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slapshot-to-the-heart · 4 years ago

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When We Went From Friends to This - a. beauvillier

One day late, but here it is! I’ve been studying for the LSAT, but finally took it today, so I’ll have some more time to be writing more regularly now. Title is from Taylor Swift’s Paper Rings. I loved getting to write this, so please please let me know what you think, my inbox is always open! Reading the tags is one of my favorite things to do, and reblogs help me know people are liking my work.

word count: 7.7k+

September 18 (sat)

Astride Leclair was the kind of person you always wanted on your side. She’d drop anything for a friend, always be the first to reach out, and would never give up on something — or someone — without a fight. She was also incredibly stubborn. Astride had also always had a penchant for adventure, which is how she found herself in a new job 600 miles and one international border from her hometown. And she hated asking for help, it really didn’t matter the circumstance. Which is how she found herself alone, trying to heft an armchair up the stairs of her new apartment building after being very rudely informed by the width of the elevator door that it wasn’t going to fit.

The lump sum her firm gave her for relocation was enough to cover a fair amount of the furniture for her new place and she tried to bring as much as she could on the drive down, but it wasn’t like she was about to rent a U-Haul and there was only so much a Honda Civic could hold. And Astride was still her father’s daughter, still would rather step on a rusty nail than pay Ikea for assembly, so by God she was going to do it herself. And “doing it herself” apparently meant dragging an 80 pound box up three flights of stairs in 90º heat in September, when New York City seemed to have not quite yet gotten the memo that the rest of the Northern Hemisphere was now in fall.

Astride finally managed to get the chair in the door, propping the door open with one of her moving boxes, unceremoniously pulling the box through the entryway as she scooted backwards into the living room. The 600 square foot expanse of her apartment was covered in boxes, more boxes, and for good measure, extra boxes. There were moving boxes, furniture boxes, shoeboxes filled with anything except for actual shoes. There was her guitar leaning against the microwave, three suitcases worth of clothes in the barely-assembled bedroom, and her dog in a crate in the corner, who had started to whine.

“I know, baby, I’ll get you out soon,” Astride said, shooting a sympathetic glance towards the beagle mix. She had adopted Poutine a little over a year ago, soon after starting her first job out of university. It was never a question whether or not she would make the trip with Astride, and thankfully it was much easier than she anticipated to find a dog-friendly apartment in Brooklyn. It wasn’t too long a walk to Prospect Park, a little under a mile, and she was looking forward to getting out with Poutine later in the day. If, that was, she actually finished unpacking enough boxes to function like a normal human being. She had picked up her mattress-in-a-box earlier in the day, but it was still sitting in the corner of her bedroom and she wasn’t particularly looking forward to a night on the hardwood floor.

---

Three hours later, Astride had finally gotten all of the boxes out of her car and began to make decent headway on assembling the chair, finally having let Poutine out of her crate. The beagle trotted around the apartment, sniffing the baseboards, boxes, and single bag of groceries Astride had picked up from Whole Foods earlier in the day. The rest of her Ikea order was coming the next day, the actual bedframe and couch along with a couple of other larger furniture pieces that she had had to leave in Montréal. Whatever she couldn’t order online she’d find at a thrift store.

Astride looked tiredly over at the kitchen. She really wasn’t in the mood to cook, and was in even less of a mood to dig through all the boxes until she finally found her set of pots and pans. She really should have taken her mom’s advice and labeled everything, but Astride was stubborn as a mule, and once she was stuck in her ways, there was precious little anyone could do to convince her otherwise. Pulling out her phone, she navigated to her Uber Eats, feeling a tiny pang in her heart as she switched her location to New York. Not the language, though. Astride was so hungry that she literally clicked on whatever place could get there the fastest, which ended up being a Chinese place a mile or so away. After placing her order — she got an extra box of chow mein so she wouldn’t have to deal with breakfast the next day — she settled back into the hair, the only fully-assembled piece of furniture in the whole apartment. Her finger hovered over her Instagram for a moment before she clicked on it, liking a few photos before going to post one of her own. It was a picture of the Brooklyn Bridge as she crossed it that morning, Poutine’s head lolling out the front window. One tap and one caption later, it was posted.

---

Anthony flopped onto his bed, his duffel landing with a satisfying thump on the floor beside him. Training camp had just ended, and while he’d certainly been keeping up on his workouts over the summer, the hours upon hours of skating had nevertheless made him more than a little sore. He grabbed his phone, opening up Instagram and scrolling through the new posts, only half paying attention. Astride’s new photo caught his eye.

Sometimes, needing a change means a new haircut. Sometimes, it means a new country. Very excited to start this next chapter in my life. Salut, New York! Anthony quickly clicked onto her profile page and read her bio. International economics analyst. Eating my way through the world one pancake at a time. BCom McGill. MTL-NYC. He read the last line over and over again. MTL-NYC. He swiped back to the photo; she had tagged herself in Brooklyn. Brooklyn. She was less than an hour away, not even thirty if the traffic wasn’t bad. But she hadn’t told him, she hadn’t said anything. Anthony felt a pang in his heart. Astride knew who he played for — obviously — and she knew that of course he’d want to see her any time they were even remotely in the same place. She knew that. Right?

He spent the next twenty minutes typing out a message to her. Then deleting it. Then retyping it. Then continuing the type-delete-retype cycle until his head was spinning. This was his best friend. Why was he so nervous to talk to her? Because she was his best friend, and as much as he hated to admit it, he really wasn’t sure where they stood. He hadn’t been sure for a long time. Hey Asty! He internally cringed at himself at the use of her old nickname. I saw you moved to New York, that’s amazing! I’m over on Long Island, so I’d love to catch up with you for coffee or something when you get a chance. It’s been too long :)

It might have been a little petty — scratch that, it definitely was petty — but Astride didn’t respond to his text that night. She didn’t have read receipts on, thank God, but it sat in her messages, without response, like something she was too scared to confront. And she didn’t even know why. Okay, fine, she knew exactly why. She had moved and suddenly they were in the same city for the first time since they were kids and he was, had been, her best friend, but why now of all times? It’s not like he was never in Montréal during the year, or like they couldn’t have committed to a weekly FaceTime or something, or at least texted more than once a month. He could have done something. And that something, that lack of a something, was what kept her from responding until the next morning, tapping out a text as she halfheartedly made her way through a bowl of oatmeal. Hi, Tito, just saw your text! Lie. I did, an opportunity for a transfer came up and I decided to take it. I figured you were pretty close by, so it would be great to catch up. I don’t start at the office for a week, if you’re free any time between now and then. That much was true. She wasn’t stupid, she knew the Islanders played on, well, Long Island, and as much as she wanted to still hold a grudge against him, her heart ached at the prospect of finally being able to see him again.

Anthony responded almost instantly, Astride having just closed the door to the dishwasher — a luxury in New York, she was told — before seeing her phone light up with the telltale bubble. I’d love to, we just finished up training camp so I’m more or less free aside from practices. A second later. Is brunch still your favorite meal?

Astride laughed. It didn’t surprise her that he remembered, but it was still touching to see him say something about it. It is.

How about Tuesday? I’ll send you the directions. It’s this little café in Flatbush, I think you’ll love it.

I’m counting on it.

September 26 (sun)

Brunch had turned into dinner, which had turned into going to a Broadway show — Anthony had insisted the moment she told him she’d never been — which had turned into him coming over for Saturday night movies, an old habit of the pair’s from their days back in Québec. Which had turned into two movies and two bottles of wine, which had turned into Tito sleeping over on the couch instead of driving the thirty-odd minutes back to his apartment. Poutine sniffed him curiously, nudging one hand with her head. Astride stifled a giggle, opening the door to the balcony. “He’s very sleepy, Poutine. It’s not good manners to wake up your guests.”

“Even when they fall asleep on your couch and steal all your blankets?” Anthony said sleepily from behind.

Astride wheeled around, greeted by a half-awake Anthony Beauvillier, who was indeed bundled in all of the blankets she owned that weren’t actively on her bed. “Tito! Oh my God, you scared me. How’d you sleep?”

He shrugged. “Not bad, about as well as can be expected.” He tapped his phone, cursing when he realized it was dead. “Do you know what time it is?”

She glanced down at her watch. “8:52, why?”

Anthony jumped up, throwing his shirt back on and grabbing his still-dead phone. “I’m supposed to meet Mat for breakfast at 9:30, and the place is,” he paused for a moment, running through the grid system in his head, “probably half an hour away? I’m never the late one, can’t break that streak now.”

“Gotcha.”

He grabbed his keys, looking back at her. “Why don’t you come? You’re already dressed, and you remember Mat, right?”

She wiggled her hand. “Kind of?” She crossed the room, letting Poutine back in. “You only want me for my charged phone and navigation system.”

“You got me,” he said, laughing.

---

“You named your dog Poutine?” Mat snickered, taking a bite of his eggs.

“Would you rather I named him Tim Horton?” Astride deadpanned. “He’s a good Canadian boy with a good Canadian mom. He needed a good Canadian name.”

Mat raised his coffee mug, tilting it over towards her. “Touché.”

Anthony waved his hand in front of Mat’s face, trying to catch his attention from where he was utterly preoccupied with destroying his sourdough toast. “Hey, Mat.”

“Mmm?” He glanced up.

“Did you know that Astride lives right by Barclays? Like, right by Barclays?”

His eyebrows rose. “No way?” Astride nodded. “That’s a great area, would have been awesome if you were here a couple of years ago. Short walk to the games.”

“That’s what I told her yesterday,” Tito responded.

---

“You’re kidding,” Anthony said, looking up at her building, then across the street to Barclays, then back to Astride, one hand tangling through his hair. “We used to play right across from here.”

Astride laughed. “I thought about that,” she said. “You know I still watched your games, right? Even after we fell out of touch?” Anthony shook his head. “You were still someone I cared about, are still someone I care about, even when we only talked a few times a year.”

Beau stood there, unable to formulate a complete sentence. As far as he knew, the last Islanders game she watched had been the 2016 opener, his NHL debut and her first year at McGill. Why did he assume that? Why did he assume the worst? You can care about people even when they’re not in your life anymore. And sometimes, if you get really, really lucky, they come back.

October 9 (sat)

“Ebs is having a barbeque thing over at his house this weekend, just stuff to celebrate the beginning of the season if you wanted to come. No pressure if you’ve got plans already, though,” Anthony said over the FaceTime.

Astride nodded enthusiastically. “That sounds great, I’d love to come! Just let me know when to show up and what to bring, and I’ll be there.”

It was almost a fifty-minute drive for Astride from her apartment in Prospect Heights to the house in Garden City, but there wasn’t too much traffic and besides, she had always liked driving. So she set off in her Civic, plugged her music in, and headed down 495. Anthony met her outside of the house, greeting her with a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek as he cocked his head towards the backyard. “Party’s this way. Come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

Astride dutifully followed, trying not to let her nerves take hold of her. Everyone might have already been Beau’s friends, but she didn’t know them, or the dynamic of everyone’s relationships, or really, what to expect at all.

He noticed her apprehension, stopping her with a feather-light touch on her arm just before walking through the back gate. “Hey, Asty. What is it?”

She let out a little huff, still upset that he could read her like a book even after all this time. “I’m just worried that I’ll feel like I’m intruding on everything, like everyone already has their friends and a group and everything, and here comes some random Québécoise who’s a friend of Tito’s—”

He laughed, turning her around to face him. “Astride, they’re going to love you. As long as you’re the hilarious, witty, caring person I know you are, they’re going to love you as much as I do, and you’re going to fit in just fine. Do you trust me?”

She gave a tiny nod. “Yeah.”

He smiled, squeezing her hand. “Good, now come back, everyone’s waiting.”

They walked through the gate, greeted by a crowd of smiling faces as Anthony brought her around to everyone to make their rounds. There was Anders, he was the captain, and his wife. There was Jordan and Lauren, and she already knew Mat, and JGP — who was excited to have another person to speak French to — and a dozen or so others, along with their respective partners and children. Anthony had gone over to talk to Mat and some of the other players, while Astride had wandered over to the drinks table. Some of the other women were chatting nearby; one of them caught Astride’s eye and waved her over to join them.

“Beau didn’t tell us he was bringing anyone!” one of the women said, pulling her over to the group with a bright smile and handing her a glass of sangria.

“Mhm,” she replied, taking a sip of the drink. “I’m new to the city, obviously, so I think he wanted me to have some people I know outside of just work.”

They all nodded. “How long have you two been together, though?” another asked. “I didn’t even know he was seeing anyone, did you?” She looked around at the others, who shook their heads as Astride’s eyes bulged.

“Together? No, no, we’re not together. We’ve been best friends for ages, but,” she shook her head.

“Could have fooled me,” Lauren said with the smallest of winks.

Astride suddenly became very interested in the floating berries in her sangria. She looked over at Anthony, who was throwing his head back, laughing at something one of the rookies had said, and smiled. But Lauren’s words kept lingering in the back of her mind. Could have fooled me. Okay, it wasn’t like it was the first time they had been mistaken for a couple; whenever she’d make the trip up to Shawingan to visit him when he was in the QMJHL, more than once she’d have to explain to his teammates that no, she wasn’t Beau’s girlfriend, they were just best friends who had known each other forever. Just best friends.

Astride had always equated her lingering feelings for Anthony to the nostalgia of a childhood crush, the safety and security that came with remembering something from a time that seemed so simple and so easy. But childhood crushes didn’t last for ten years. And that wasn’t something she hadn’t wanted to come to terms with, something she’d been putting off for years if she was being honest with herself.

“You didn’t tell me Astride was coming,” Mat commented, seeing her mid-laugh in conversation with the other girls.

Anthony nodded. “Yeah. She didn’t have any plans for the weekend and I thought it would be nice to introduce her to everyone. I remember how shitty it felt to be in a new city away from your family, don’t want her to be lonely. Plus, I genuinely think she’ll fit in great with everyone.”

Mat hummed his agreement. “She’s changed since Switzerland, don’t you think?” he asked appreciatively, referring to over five years ago, the last time he had seen her in person.

“Don’t even think about it,” Beau mumbled to Mat, seeing his eyebrows go so far up they were hidden in his hairline.

“I see a hot girl, I appreciate a hot girl,” Mat shrugged. “But don’t worry, I won’t try anything. I know she’s off-limits.”

The rest of the afternoon passed quicker than she would have thought, and after a few hours and more good conversations, it was time for Astride to leave. “Have a safe drive back,” Anthony said, giving her a hug.

“I will,” she responded.

He opened the driver’s side door for her. “I’m really glad you came, you know. Everyone liked you, you fit in great.”

“It wasn’t all me,” she said, sliding into the seat, turning her head to Anthony to continue the conversation. “Everyone really did seem to go out of their way to make me feel included, I think they understood the feeling of moving to a whole new place without a big support system and wanted to do what they could to help mitigate that for me.” Astride consciously left out Lauren’s little comment, four words that had been bouncing around in her head for hours since they had been said. He didn’t need to know. She didn’t need him to know, it could confuse him and complicate things when they were just getting back into the rhythm of friendship, of being each other’s person.

Anthony tapped his fingers on the car door. “I’m glad.”

“Me too.”

Beau went to sleep that night, Mat’s words bouncing around in his head. “I know she’s off-limits.” It’s not like Cass was his sister or something, someone who would inherently be barred from his best friend’s dating pool. But Mat seemed to know right away, without having ever been told, that she wasn’t someone he could ever even consider pursuing. Why? And what did Mat seem to know that he didn’t?

November 12 (fri)

It was early November, and Anthony and Astride had just settled down at a table in Prospect Park, coffee cups warming their hands through the late fall chill. “How do you feel about last night?” Astride asked teasingly. He had a three point game, two goals and an assist in a 4-1 win over the Canes, so there really wasn’t any question that he was still riding on the high.

Beau rolled his eyes. “Good, obviously. It would have been nice to get a hat trick, but I know that’s asking for a lot and I didn’t want to tempt fate too much. They made a really good push late in the second.”

“But you won,” she said, poking his shoulder with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around her mocha.

“But we won,” he agreed. He suddenly got quiet, the kind of quiet where, if you know the person well enough, you can tell that something’s up. That they’re thinking of something. And Astride was right. “Do you ever think about Switzerland?” he asked.

Astride looked at him from the side, knowing right away that he wasn’t asking about the country. “All the time,” she admitted.

---

It was the spring of 2015, and they were in Lucerne. By they, Astride meant her, Tito, and the rest of the 2015 Canadian U18 World Cup team. And by in Lucerne, she meant crowded into someone’s hotel room with no adult supervision. Anthony wasn’t sure where any of the coaching staff had gone, but if he was being honest, he was riding on way too big of a high to even care. They had clinched the bronze medal earlier that day, celebrating with the family and friends who had made the trip out, gotten dinner, and then packed into the first team room they came to. Well, technically, Astride, Tito, and Mat had made a stop at the grocery store before meeting everyone else back in the room. The drinking age in Switzerland was 16 for everything but spirits, and everyone was planning on taking full advantage of that. The cashier gave them a look as she took her and Anthony’s French licenses and Mat’s English one, but the charge went through just fine, and fifteen minutes later they were walking back through the doorway with three cases of beer and a few bottles of sparkling wine for good measure. Astride had never been so grateful to have her own checking account.

“You ever drink before?” Mat asked her as they opened the cases.

Astride shrugged. “Not really. A glass of wine every now and again back home with my parents, but nothing too crazy.”

He held out a bottle for her, fishing around in his pocket for the bottle opener they had picked up at the store. “Have fun.”

And have fun Astride did. She had finished off two of the beers, and one of the younger teammates — she didn’t remember who — had popped open the wine. In his slightly inebriated state, it took longer than it should have to twist off the muselet, which then led to foam all over the floor and fifteen sixteen and seventeen-year-olds running to the bathroom to grab towels to try and mop it up with. And then running back to the bathroom to get the water glasses because they needed something to drink it out of, right? And then to everyone else’s rooms because they quickly realized that two cups definitely wasn’t enough to go around, and then everyone was back in the room, on the beds and around the beds, finally letting themselves celebrate. Astride was just finishing her glass when Mat spoke. “Anyone up for never have I ever?” Nobody said otherwise, so two minutes later, they were all arranged in what could very generously be called a circle, fresh drinks in hand. After a solid five minutes of repeating the rules — there was always at least one person who seemed to genuinely struggle with the idea that you drank if you had done the thing, not if you hadn’t — they were slowly but surely making their way around the circle.

Questions ranged from the mundane — “Never have I ever gotten detention” — to the raunchy — “Never have I ever had my parents walk in on me” — neither of which Astride or Tito drank to.

By the time it was Mat’s turn, he had had plenty of time to think, looking around the group with a conspiratorial grin. “What is it?” Tito asked skeptically.

He shrugged. “Never have I ever...kissed anyone in the circle.” As expected, nobody drank, but apparently that wasn’t expected, not for Mat, at least. He looked between Anthony and Astride incredulously. “Seriously? You two have never kissed?”

Anthony shook his head. “Nope.”

“How? You’ve been friends for, like, a million years, not even when you were little or anything?” he asked.

“Never,” Astride said. “Kind of hard to kiss your best friend when you haven’t kissed anyone before.” She barely even realized that everyone was still listening in.

“You’ve never kissed anyone?” Anthony asked, surprised.

Astride looked down at her hands, sipping her beer. “Nope.” She gave him a brief smile. “I know it’s nothing to be ashamed of, but no. Just hasn’t happened yet.”

Maybe it was the alcohol talking, or maybe it was feelings buried so deeply in Anthony’s mind that he didn’t think would ever see the light of day, let alone have to be confronted, that made him say what he did next. “I could—if you wanted—you don’t have to, but—” he stammered.

Astride laughed, looking at him curiously. “What is it, Tito? You’re not normally one to stumble over your words like that.”

He picked at his fingernails, an old nervous tick from his childhood that his mother was never quite able to get him to break, keenly aware that the whole room had decided to listen into their conversation. “I was just trying to say...I could do it, if you want. Kiss you, I mean. If you just wanted to get it over with, or whatever. I just figured. You know me, you trust me, you’re comfortable with me. Better that than some idiot at school who doesn’t care about you.”

Her cheeks burned as she looked over at him, but even though it took her nearly a minute to respond, she had her answer after five seconds. “Why not?” Astride flashed him the purest, gentlest smile, the kind that let him know just how much she cared about him and how deeply she trusted him. And the look on her face meant the world to him.

Anthony leaned in, his hand coming up to rest on her shoulder, his fingertips just barely touching her cheek as their foreheads leant together. “You sure about this?” He needed her to be sure.

She nodded. “I’ve had a couple of drinks, and I never imagined my first kiss would be in front of an audience,” she paused to giggle at the rest of the team, who were giving the scene their full attention in a way that somehow wasn’t uncomfortable at all, just wholesome and supportive, “but yeah. I’m sure.”

That was all the permission Anthony needed to lean forward, pressing his lips against hers, in a kiss that was soft and sweet and somehow everything Astride needed all in one. He pulled back after a moment, a goofy smile on his face. “How was it?”

Astride couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “Good, it was really good, Tito. Thank you for that.”

“What are friends for?”

---

“Friends are for kissing each other, apparently,” Astride giggled, leaning into Anthony on his couch.

He laughed, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb over her arm. “Did you ever think something was going to happen between us?” Anthony asked curiously.

Astride shrugged. “At some point, yeah. I think it was kind of hard not to, with our parents and literally everyone we spent time with saying we were destined to fall in love.” She looked down at her hands, trying not to give away the fact that at one point, she had believed them.

November 30 (tues)

“Do you want to come over Friday?” Anthony asked, sprawled out across her couch on one of his rare nights off. He had made the drive over to Astride’s apartment, cooking salmon and roasting vegetables while she took the much more daunting task of picking what to watch on Netflix. She settled on Back to the Future. “I can order in Thai, I know we’re trying to work our way through the Mission Impossibles.”

Astride grimaced. “I actually...kind of have a date Friday night,” she admitted.

Anthony made a hum of surprise. “You do?”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t act so shocked, Tito. There are men in this city of nine million who want to take me out.”

He sputtered. “It’s not that that shocks me, Asty. You’d have men lining up around the block for you if you’d give any of them a second glance. It’s just that. You never seem to bother actually going after any of them. What made this one different?”

“I mean, honestly hour?” Astride said, shrugging.

“Honestly hour.”

“I haven’t been on a date since I left Montréal, you know that. It had been a few months there too. And I’ve loved hanging out with you more, getting to know Mat and the team and everyone’s partners, but...I needed something different, too. Something that felt like a part of my life that wasn’t directly connected to the team. Which, don’t get me wrong,” she added hastily, “I love them, and it’s been so nice to be a part of that group, I just…” Astride trailed off.

“You can’t let that be the only part of your life. I get it,” Anthony added helpfully.

“Yeah,” Astride agreed. “So enter Cole. He works in a different division of the IE department, I’m obviously Europe and he’s Asia, mostly does work with Taiwan and Singapore. Um,” she said, her eyes turning towards the ceiling, “he seems really nice, did international business at UPenn, which is a great program. Speaks fluent Mandarin, uh, I think he mentioned he’s got a few fish at home.”

Anthony snorted. “What’s wrong with fish?” Astride asked defensively.

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong with fish,” he said. “Just seems like an odd choice. Maybe his building doesn’t allow pets or something.”

“Maybe,” Astride responded. “I wouldn’t know, he lives in Manhattan, over in Tribeca. Bikes to work.”

Tito laughed again. “I don’t trust people who bike to work in New York City, Asty. They have zero regard for their own lives or safety.”

She giggled. “That might be true. But I’m looking forward to it, the date, I mean. I really am. It’s been a while since I’ve really put myself back out there, and I’m ready for something good. Something real.”

He gave a half-smile from his side of the couch. “I’m happy for you, Astride. I hope you have a great time, and I hope he treats you right. If he doesn’t, just let him know that you can sic an entire professional hockey team on him with a single phone call.”

“I will,” she said. “I’ll call you when it’s over, tell you how it went.” “

I’ll be waiting,” he said.

Anthony thought back on the conversation as he sat on the corner of his bed that night, about to go to sleep. He turned his phone over and over in his hands, his eyes fixating on the chip in the crown molding that he hadn’t gotten around to fixing yet. He wasn’t lying to Astride when he said he was happy for her. He was, of course he was, who wouldn’t want their best friend to be happy? But while he wanted nothing more, nothing more, than to be able to give his full-throated support for her date, and the potential the future held for her and this Cole guy, he couldn’t do it. There was something stopping him. And the worst part of it all was that Anthony was starting to realize what it was.

---

Astride had said that their dinner reservation was at 7, some brasserie in the West Village. “That’s a French thing, right?” Cole had asked.

“It is,” Astride responded, gearing up for her translation skills to be used for the first time in months. She spoke almost exclusively French around Tito, and with JGP and Brassard, but the majority of her day was spent in English. Cole said that the restaurant had come highly recommended from one of his Wall Street friends, something that should have been the first red flag.

“Never trust the finance bros,” Reese, a German specialist and one of her friends at the office, had said. “They all think they’re God’s gift to mankind when I can guarantee you they ain’t shit.”

She had said it was at 7, so Anthony wasn’t expecting to hear from her until much later; honestly, he would have been surprised if she had called before 10. He tried not to think about what it could mean if she didn’t call at all that night. She had said it was at 7, so when he heard a knock at his door at half past nine, he practically jumped out of his skin before scrambling to open the door. His eyebrows rose when he saw Astride on the other side of the door, then his face contorted into a look of sympathy as he saw the sad smile on her lips, her jacket slung over one arm.

“Can I come in?” she asked. He nodded without question, holding the door while stepping out of the way. He padded to the kitchen, bringing out a bottle of Moscato and two glasses. Astride smiled gratefully at him as he uncorked the bottle and poured. He knew that she couldn’t do red wine when she was upset, and she was upset.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked tentatively.

Astride shrugged, sipping the wine. “Not much to tell other than it was probably the worst first date I’ve ever been on.”

That piqued Anthony’s interest. He’d never be happy that she was upset, but something told him the story wasn’t quite that simple. “What about it was so bad?”

“Where do I begin?” she sighed. “He was on time, but that’s pretty much the only thing Cole did right the entire night. He was rude to the waitress when we had to wait all of ten minutes until our reservation was ready, because the couple ahead had gone long. Then he ordered the most expensive bottle of red wine they had, without even asking me to see what I wanted. He really just was trying to show off that he could afford it. And it was a Sangiovese, and you know I hate dry wines, so I was just trying to choke the whole thing down. And then he insisted on ordering for me, which is probably the most chauvinistic thing I could think of, I mean, who does that anymore?” she asked incredulously.

Tito shrugged. It was disrespectful, absolutely, but more than that, it was just weird. If women have mouths that work, then they’re more than capable of doing something as simple as ordering their own food.

“And he kept trying to pour me more wine after the first glass, even when I told him a million times I was good.” Anthony’s grip on his glass tightened. Astride rubbed her temples with her free hand. “He just kept going on and on about work, and this big promotion he’s insisting he’s going to get even though I know for a fact that they want Maria for it. I could barely get a word in edgewise. That’s when I just decided I couldn’t take it anymore. I faked that Jean-Claude was calling, grabbed my jacket, and caught a cab over here.” She looked up at him, the same disappointed expression she had worn when he opened the door. “I was really hoping this one would pan out, Tito.”

He felt an ache in his heart. He may have been less than thrilled about the prospect of Astride going out on a date, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less to see her so despondent. He leaned over, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear that had fallen loose. “I know, Asty. And I’m sorry it didn’t.”

December 13 (mon)

Anthony and Mat were the last ones in the locker room after a morning practice. “I found this new place nearby last week that’s got great smoothie bowls, want to get one after you finish packing your stuff?” Anthony asked, looking over at Mat.

“Yeah, yeah. Sure, Sounds good,” Mat nodded, half-listening.

Anthony glanced over at him, a weird look on his face. “You good, dude? You sound distracted.”

Mat spoke abruptly, looking over at Tito with a laser-focused expression. “How long have you been in love with Astride?”

Anthony’s eyebrows jumped a foot. “In love with Astride? Why would you think that?”

Mat gave him a look, the kind of look that let Anthony know he was dead serious about what he was saying, and more than that, that he believed it. “Tito, I’m dumb, but I’m not stupid.”

Anthony leaned forward, elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. “It’s that obvious?”

“Yep,” Mat said, popping the p.

“Do you think she knows?” His voice had dropped to barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know,” Mat said, shrugging. “I don’t think so, she doesn’t seem like the type of person to really be able to know about something as big as that and not address it. Doesn’t like to keep things bottled up, it’s not really her style.”

Anthony nodded. “It’s not.” He raked one hand through his haid, his head still leaning on the other one. “God. How do you tell your best friend you’re in love with her?”

Mat put one hand on Beau’s back, comforting him as best he could. “I don’t know, Tito. I wish I could help. What I do know,” he said, “is that you’re going to have to eventually. Because it’s going to tear you up if you don’t.”

December 18 (sat)

Astride tossed one final empty can into the garbage bag. “I think that’s it,” she said, giving his living room a cursory look. What had looked like a warzone only less than an hour before now more closely resembled the somewhat-messy but perfectly respectable bachelor pad of a man in his 20s, like it should have. With the holidays approaching, Anthony had decided to take it into his own hands to host a party — alongside Astride, who he had practically begged for help — intent on showcasing his newly-acquired skills by playing bartender the whole night. He was surprisingly capable, Astride had thought, if her Sazerac was anything to go by.

He smiled at her. “Thanks, Asty. And thanks for staying and helping clean everything up, you really didn’t have to.”

She tied the bag off and set it by the door with the other one. “I wanted to. And besides, I’m staying over,” she said, looking over at Anthony, “so what did you think I was going to do? Lock myself in the guest room while you cleaned up the whole apartment by yourself? What kind of a woman do you take me for?” she asked in mock offense.

Anthony laughed, sitting down on the couch with a satisfying thump, pulling Astride into his side when she settled next to him.

“I’m so glad we got back in contact,” she said, muffled against the fabric of his hoodie. “I’m so glad we’re friends again.”

He felt guilty; more than that, he knew that the guilt, at least some of it, was deserved. “I should have done more,” he lamented. “I should have done more to keep in contact, more to show you I cared, more so you’d know that your friendship is one of the things I value most in my life.”

Astride gave a small smile. “It’s a two-way street, Tito. Sure, I won’t lie and say that you really put all that much effort into keeping in contact. You didn’t.” He winced, she shot him a sympathetic look. “I love you, but you know me. I don’t mince my words. But I definitely could have done more than text you congratulations or leave a thirty-second voicemail on your birthday. We both could have done more. We both should have done more,” she said, correcting herself. “What do you think happened, though? Where did we go wrong?” As much as she might have hated it, Astride was that kind of person. She went through every bad decision in her life with a fine-toothed comb, needing to know what went wrong, needing to know what she could have done differently.

“I think,” he began, “that it was just so easy to get distracted from ‘back home’ things. From our friendship, from my relationships with my family. From the important things, the things that I should have made an effort to prioritize even when the season got hectic and games got hard. And I’m not trying to make excuses,” he added quickly, “but there was just something about where I was, physically and mentally. I was 19, a rookie in one of the biggest cities in the world, and I think I just lost sight of things. Between the practices and games and going out and community events and trying to get in more than five hours of sleep a night, it was a lot,” he admitted. “It was stressful, probably weighed on me more than I wanted to admit. And I don’t want to sound ungrateful, because I’m well aware I was — and am — living a life thousands of kids would kill for, but there’s a lot that goes on behind the scenes that you don’t really understand unless you’ve been through it. I don’t have many regrets from my rookie season, or really many in my career so far. Don’t regret moving for minors, don’t regret going to the Isles, don’t regret any of the contracts I’ve signed or plays I’ve made. Well,” he smirked, “maybe a few. But the one big one? The only real regret I’ve had? Letting you go.”

Astride swallowed hard, choosing her next words carefully. “What do you mean, letting me go?”

Anthony let out a hard sigh. He’d put it off for long enough. He couldn’t do it any longer. “Never telling you how I feel.”

“How you feel?” Her voice had dropped to a whisper, her fingers tangling in the fringe of the fleece blanket that was slung over the couch cushions.

“Like I love you so much my heart could burst.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “How long have you known?”

He looked at her with a soft smile. “Ever since Switzerland.”

“Six years?”

“Six years.” He reached out slowly, so slowly, pushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear when she didn’t move back. They sat in silence for a moment, and when Anthony spoke again, his voice wavered. “Asty? Say something.”

Astride’s lifted her head, finally meeting his eyes. “I knew since I was 15.”

His face split into a grin, wider and wider until she was sure she’d never seen a bigger smile. “You did? You do?”

She nodded, leaning forward so their foreheads were touching. She put her hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat fluttering butterfly-fast underneath her fingertips. “I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you since I knew what love was, Tito.”

He pushed forward, pressing his lips against hers for the first time since 2015, the first time since Switzerland. It was gentle and meaningful and somehow communicated all of the love and emotion that had been built up between the two of them in the past six years. Anthony pulled back after a minute, his lips pink and slightly puffy. “Tell me where your head’s at, Astride.”

“Is it too cliché to just say that this might be the happiest I’ve been in years?”

He shook his head, smiling. “Not at all.” But there was something that she wasn’t quite letting go of. “What is it, Astride?”

Astride sniffed. “I want this. You and I, I want it so mad it hurts. I just hate the idea that we’d turn into some sort of cliché. Childhood friends who grow up and fall in love, but something goes wrong and they split up and suddenly the dynamic of everything is messed up and I don’t want that, Tito. I don’t know if I could deal with you hating me because of how things ended.”

“But things don’t have to end, Asty. Every broken heart, every date where some asshole has stood you up has led you to know that you deserve more. You deserve so much more, Astride, you deserve the sun and the moon and someone who would hang them in the sky for you. It doesn’t have to end in heartbreak. It doesn’t have to end at all.”

Astride had always been someone who was cautious, someone who thought before she acted and never spoke without thinking through every possible outcome. But this was one of the times that she couldn’t do that, one of the times when, as much as she may have hated it, she needed to take a leap of faith. And so she did. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Anthony asked, his voice lifting.

She nodded, the happiness on her face unmistakable. “Okay.”

And as Astride and Anthony FaceTimed her parents to break the news, her mom slapping her dad’s shoulder, claiming that she had “called it” back in 2014, Astride was filled with a sense of undeniable, irreplaceable joy. The kind of joy that the poets write about and artists put brush to canvas trying to depict, the kind that most people go their whole lives only hoping to get a glimpse of. The kind that made Astride more certain of one thing than she had perhaps been in her entire life. It didn’t have to end in heartbreak. And this one didn’t have to end at all.

And as they stood two years later in a little church in their hometown, promising in front of their family and friends and the entire New York Islanders to love each other for the rest of their lives, Astride finally believed it.

#anthony beauvillier #hockey smut #hockey writing #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl smut #nhl writing #new york islanders

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fluffymcu · 4 years ago

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Letting Loose

Part SEVEN

This series is TICKLE related.

Series Summary: You’re the little sister of the one and only Captain America. You’re also the youngest girl on the team, so that automatically makes you the avengers’ little princess. And they spoil you as such. They have become your amazing family and you don’t know where you’d be without them. This series will show random adventures and fluffy events in the daily life of the reader and her family, along with an unexpected turn later on as you read.

A/N: I’m so excited to be writing this series! This is my first time writing one and I’m a bit nervous but I hope it all goes well. :) The first few chapters will be about random events, not really following a timeline until Chapter 9. Hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 2,653

Previous Next

------

You were woken up by Peter slapping your face lazily with his hand. You groaned and stirred in your sleep and open an eye up to see what he wanted. He was half asleep too, just patting your cheek and telling you to wake up. “What?” You hummed, your morning voice cracking a bit. It wasn’t light outside, so you knew it was early. But then you realized why he was waking you up. “Oh.” You said, perking up and sitting up on your bed. “Ok, come on let’s go.” You threw the covers off you and went to your bathroom to brush your teeth before going down to see the guys off. They were leaving for their mission today and you wanted to see them and wish them luck.

Peter slid off the bed, lingering on the floor for a few seconds before shooting himself up with a huff and pulled on his shirt on the floor that he took off in the middle of the night. He waited for you to finish up in the bathroom before following you out to the window room, which was the room that you had to go through to get to the backyard where the Quinjet was. You saw Nat, Bucky, Wanda, Tony, Steve, and Sam when you came in, and you both smiled and said good morning.

You went to give Nat a hug, squeezing her tight. “I’ll miss you. I’ll see you in 2 days.” You smiled. Nat rubbed your back affectionately and agreed. You moved onto Wanda, giving her a tight hug as well, her kissing your cheek and smiling at you. “We’ll come back soon.”

Lastly you went to Bucky, him lifting you up and kissing your cheek, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Have fun at the movies ok? You’ll tell me all about it when I come back.” He said, giving you a sweet smile and put you down. You watched as they walked outside towards the Quinjet and left, disappearing into the sky.

“Alright then. That’s that. You kids do what you're gonna do and get everything done before noon.” Steve said, patting you back and leaving to his room. You grinned at Peter excitedly. Steve had explained to you that morning that he was allowing you both to skip school today and do something fun to take our minds off the mission, which is why you were now going to go watch a movie that was coming out in the theaters with the team. You were basically jumping in place right now; You hadn’t gone to the movies in quite a long time with everyone. There weren’t many movies that caught their attention but when it did, they would make plans to go see it.

----

You and Peter worked to get what you needed to get done; laundry, dishes, homework, etc. It was about 11:30 and tony suggested that everyone had a snack before leaving. “Get something light to eat to hold you until after. Not anything too heavy cause we’re going out to eat later.” He said. Everyone ate a granola bar and you ran upstairs quickly to put on an outfit. Once the clock hit 11:45, you all were out the door.

Since it was Steve, Tony, Pepper, Sam, Pietro, Peter, You, Clint, Bruce, and Thor, you all had to take the van to the movies. It looked a bit extra, but to transport a big family like yours, it was necessary.

You and Peter sat in the back, in the last 2 seats. They were all separate seats, one on each side on the van. The van was a twelve-seater, so all of you fit perfectly. Everyone buckled up and Clint started to drive towards the theater. Since the compound was a bit secluded, it took a while to get to the city but it was a good pass time to listen to music and talk about Star Wars with Peter. There was traffic as you got closer to the city, so you and Peter took your seat belts off to face each other fully. You were sitting facing him with your leg tucked under you. Peter went from Star Wars, to explaining the physics of the multiverse. You smirked as he talked, loving when he would geek out like this. While he was going on about it, you leaned back and brought your other leg up to rest in across the van, on his lap. He probably didn’t even notice since he was so into what he was saying so you laid your head back against the glass, nodding at what he was saying. You weren’t as sharp as him when it came to multiverse physics or quantum stuff, but it was still interesting to hear what he had to say. After a minute, Peter was calming down from his nerd high and you giggled lightly, shaking your head. “What?” He asked, a small smile on his face.

“You are such a nerd.” You hummed. You meant it with love of course, but apparently Peter didn’t take it that way today. He gasped and put his hand to cover his heart, feigning offense.

“What'd you just say?” He asked, a hint of mischief clear in his tone. You sat up a bit to look at him right. You were about to explain that you were kidding but the only thing coming out of your mouth were giggles as he grabbed your leg that was on his lap and scratched his nails under your knee. That was an extremely ticklish spot you had and you squealed, pulling at your leg. You brought your other leg from under you and put it on the floor to get more grip to pull. You began to laugh louder the longer he stayed in that stop so you tried to use your other leg to kick his hand away. “Plehehehease!” You begged. Peter however, saw this as an opportunity to grab your other leg. “Please what? Get your other leg too? Of course!” He teased. You felt your cheeks heat up and you laughed, slumping more and more in your chair. Peter was now having a firm grip on both your feet and squeezing right above your knees.

You threw your head back and fell to your side, desperately trying to get your legs free. Tony turned behind his seat to look at you both and smirked, chuckling at you and Peter’s insatiable need for games. “Peheheheter! Quihihihit it!!” You hiccupped, shrieking when he moved off his seat and got closer to dig into your sides. You were now trapped, since you were laying on the seat on your back, not having anywhere to go with another seat blocking the front and Peter towering over you at the side.

This made it almost impossible to defend yourself as peter dug his digits into the middle of your belly. He laughed along with you, switching up to your ribs, scratching his index and middle finger at your upper ribs close to your armpits. “Tickle tickle tickle!” He teased in a babyish voice, knowing you could never stand being teased like that. Your face was practically scorching as you fell into silent laughter. Peter laughed at how a few little teases could make it that much worse for you. He grinned widely as shook all his fingers into your ribs. You arched your back violently, shaking your head side to side. “Are you gonna take it back?” He asked, not stopping his attack. You couldn’t form any words, so you just nodded frantically, mouthing for him to stop. Luckily, peter did, helping you sit up and sit in his own chair. You let out an exhausted sigh, melting onto the seat and resting your head on the window. Peter chuckled and sat back in silence, giving you moment to recover. He knew you meant it with love; you would always say that when he would go full nerd on you. But since peter was kind of an impatient person, he got bored easily. And when he got bored, he usually found it most entertaining to torture you whenever he wanted.

Fortunately, traffic had finally loosened up and you got to the theater 10 minutes later. You all hopped out of the van once you parked and made your way into the theater. Many people there were a bit surprised to see almost the entire Avengers team in a movie theater. You received quite a few stares from people, and a few fangirls who asked tony and your brother to take a picture with them. After things settled down, Steve took you to the snack bar to get you some candy. You got a cherry Icee with Nerds candy and gummy worms. Everyone got their own snacks after and got their tickets.

-----

You all made your way to the assigned room and took your seats. You sat next to peter and thor, trying not to eat all of your snacks before the movie even started. The movie was funny and entertaining, eliciting a lot of laughter from everyone in the theater. You all left as soon as the end credits started rolling, since you all were very hungry now. “That was a good movie.” Thor chuckled, everyone else nodding in agreement. “So where are we eating at?” Clint asked. Everybody shrugged and stood in a circle in a secluded corner of the theater lobby.

“I kind of want seafood.” Bruce hummed.

“Ehh, I say pizza.”

“That’s too repetitive. We eat pizza all the time. I say burgers.”

“Burgers sound good, that’s a good post-movie food.” Tony chuckled. You all agreed on burgers, finding a good burger place a few blocks away from the theater. “This place also serves pizza do those who want that.” Clint cheered at that and you made your way back to the van and drove to the restaurant.

----

The place was nice, not too crowded and it had a nice patio to eat outside. It had a really nice vibe to it; almost as if it wasn’t located in the middle of NYC.

You followed everyone inside the restaurant, lining up at the counter to be seated. There were a few people in front of you, waiting for their seats. Peter, Clint, Pietro, Pepper, and Tony took seats at the benches while Bruce, Thor, Steve, you, and Sam were standing in line. You were standing behind Thor, Steve standing behind you. He had his arms wrapped loosely around your shoulders, swaying you gently side to side. You were letting him sway you, daydreaming about random stuff and assignments that were due soon, listening to the mixed, loud chatter of everybody in the restaurant.

It was taking longer than expected to be seated, and everyone was growing hungrier and more impatient. Your hopes were lifted when you saw the waitress come your way, but were slightly disappointed by what she said. “Hello, I'm so very sorry for the long wait, we’ll be ready with your seats in 10 minutes. We just had a small setback but now we’re back on track.” She said with a smile. The team nodded with a grateful smile and sat up a bit in their seats. You leaned back into Steve again and he put his hands on your shoulders, absentmindedly massaging them. He added a bit of pressure, squeezing close in between your neck and shoulders, causing it to feel weird. Ticklish. You coughed, shrugging your shoulders up a bit to show your discomfort.

Steve smirked and continued, massaging closer to your neck. It started to tickle a lot more so you giggled and whined at him, trying to step away but he kept you in place, increasing his speed. “Steheheve!” You growled. He chuckled and started to flutter his fingers in your neck all of a sudden, making you squeal loudly and recoil. You bent over a bit towards the floor to get your neck away from him, and stepped away, accidentally bumping into Thor. He turned around out reflex and looked away again when he realized it was just you. “Stop!” You scolded.

“Stooop!” Steve mocked, wearing a big smirk. You tried to give him a death glare to get him to back off but you apparently didn’t look intimidating enough since Steve grabbed you back and held you in a loose headlock, using his other hand to poke at your belly. You face was hidden by your hair since you were bent over, and you tried curling in on yourself more to protect your belly. You bit your lip, trying to contain the laughter that wanted to explode out of you so bad. Steve chuckled evilly, changing his technique to pinching your waist, going all the way up and down your torso. You broke out into giggles, reaching behind him to push at his back to get out of the hold.

Steve ‘tsk’ed and brought his hand under to pinch at your armpits, immediately making you bring your arm down. You started to blush profusely as you started to realize people were probably watching you be embarrassed by your brother. You laughed loudly when Steve scribbled his finger in your belly button, sliding his hand under your shirt. You let out a high-pitched squeal that was almost too high for anyone close to hear, but Steve laughed when he heard it. You desperately slapped at his hand and wiggled around enough to free yourself.

With a loud pant, you pushed yourself away and kept him at arms length. Steve giggled your messy hair, looking like you just got in a fight with a bull. “God, you’re so embarrassing!” You whined in between your residual giggles. Steve let you get away and you ran over to Tony, snuggling up to him. Tony wrapped an arm around you and sighed, resting his head in the wall and closing his eyes.

A few minutes later, you were all called over to your table, eager to eat. You sat next to your brother and across from Peter. Pepper was sitting on your other side, next to Tony. You ordered your food and you were playing iMessage games with Peter while you waited for your food to arrive. You grinned when the waiter placed your burger on the table, thanking him and digging in. Since Steve’s burger hadn’t arrived yet, he was constantly stealing your fries. It took a lot of self control to not growl at him for taking his 10th fry. You were fine with sharing anything, as long as it wasn’t your gummy bears, ice cream, or fries. But you stood strong and let him take the eleventh. Finally, he stopped and you thanked the higher force up there in the heavens that he did.

In the next few minutes, everyone had their food, quickly digging in. You were thankful for this event today, because it took your mind off the mission that Bucky, Nat, and Wanda were on. By the time you had all gotten home, it was night time. Only one more day after this and they were home.

You spent the rest of the night in Steve’s room, cuddling with him while he read his book. He had a record player in his room and some soft 40’s music was playing softly in the background. Although you mostly had modern music on your spotify playlist, you really enjoyed the old music that he would play. It made you feel a little nostalgic, but it was a good feeling. It didn’t take long for the music and Steve softly rocking you side to side to make you fall asleep. He smiled faintly when he saw your sleeping form and laid you down next to him. It was then when he realized it was late, and turned off his lamp to go to sleep.

#ticklish!reader #tickle fight #avengers tickle #marvel tickle #tickle fluff #peter tickles reader #peter x reader #steve tickles reader #avengers #marvel

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marjansmarwani · 4 years ago

Text

You Can Learn to Love (Again)

A Tarlos Teacher AU // 14.3K

[Read on ao3]

TK Strand needs a fresh start. He needs to get as far away from the memories and temptations of NYC as he possibly can so when he finds an opening at a prestigious high school in Austin, he jumps at the chance.

As things fall into place he is surprised to find just how well he fits into Austin; how well this new life he built for himself suits him. There’s only one complication: another (insanely attractive) English teacher by the name of Carlos Reyes whose existence does not fit into TK’s carefully constructed plans. The universe, however, seems to have another plan entirely.

Or, the Teacher AU absolutely no one asked for.

Welcome to the most self-indulgent thing I have ever written! I had a good time writing it and I ended up really liking it though, and I hope you do too. Huge shoutout to @officerrxyes for helping me with the edits and putting it up me throughout the entire process.

-----

This is not how he had wanted to start his first day. He had been hoping to make a good impression, maybe make it through the first week without drawing too much attention to himself.

The universe had other plans, it seemed.

It had started with the traffic. He was still new to the area and had severely underestimated how heavy traffic was in this city (really, who knew?) Thankfully he had been nervous enough that he had left his apartment almost an hour earlier than he should have had to for a 4-mile drive, which had gotten him here with about 10 minutes to spare.

If it had just been that, it would have been fine. He could have shaken it off, gotten into his classroom and been ready to face the day with plenty of time before his students showed up. But no, it couldn’t be that simple. Instead, he was stuck here, in his current predicament.

By the time he arrived there was not a parking spot to be found. He had anxiously circled the parking lot twice before spotting an empty space miraculously close to the front doors. He thought maybe his luck had finally changed - until he tried to open his door. The car next to him was parked so close that he could barely even get his door more than an inch let alone wide enough to get out. He glanced over to the passenger side to find that car was almost as close. He banged his head against the steering wheel in frustration. Of course. Of fucking course - he had moved across the country, managed to get a job in one of the best high schools in the state, and now he was going to blow it because he was trapped in his car. Typical.

He forced himself to take a deep, calming breath before examining the situation again. There might just be enough room on the passenger side to open the door and squeeze out. Then he would just have to wait long enough that the other cars would be gone before he tried to leave at the end of the day. Totally doable — he just had to climb over the center counsel. He examined the layout and sighed. There was no way to do this gracefully. He took a silent moment to mourn his nice professional wrinkle-free first-day outfit before he resigned himself to the inevitable.

He had known it was not going to be a graceful process, but he had still underestimated exactly how awkward it would be. He cleared the counsel and got one foot on the ground outside the passenger door before carefully sliding himself out, careful not to let his door hit the car beside him. Once he had both feet on the ground he reached back in to grab his bag, which he pulled out before closing the door and walking to the back of the car. Once he was free of the confined space he took a deep breath as he smoothed out his clothes, wiping away any wrinkles.

“That was pretty impressive,” someone noted, voice full of amusement.

TK spun around to find an incredibly attractive man standing behind him, looking him over with a raised eyebrow. TK wanted to shoot back something clever but instead he tripped over his words, stuttering through half-formed thoughts before he blurted out “thanks.”

Inwardly, he groaned. Because this morning hadn’t been bad enough - now he was a stuttering mess in front of this guy who possibly had the most gorgeous eyes TK had ever seen and had just used those eyes to watch TK climb out of his own car like a contortionist. He was really winning today.

“Anytime,” the stranger returned with a grin. They stood there, not saying anything for a few more moments until the stranger continued, “Well I guess I should,” he trailed off gesturing towards the building. TK nodded vaguely before a glance at his watch pulled him back to reality, “Oh, yeah. Me too.”

“Well, I hope you have a good first day. My name is Carlos, by the way.”

“TK,” he offered, plastering on what he hoped was a charming smile.

Carlos grinned at him, “I’ll see you around, TK.”

And with that, he was gone. TK watched him walk away until the snap of the door closing behind him dragged him back to the present. He glanced at his watch again only to see that he only had two minutes before he would officially be late for his first day.

“Shit,” he muttered to himself before hiking his bag up in his shoulder and sprinting towards the door.

------

“Don’t forget to get those syllabi signed!” TK called to the retreating backs of his second-period freshman class. “Whether or not you think it’s stupid does not change the fact that it is an easy grade!”

This earned a few chuckles from the students still gathering their things and he flashed a grin at them. Despite the rough start, the morning has actually gone pretty well. His first two classes had gone smoothly and the kids seemed like a good bunch. He was optimistic about the year. Now he was looking at his first prep period of the day and since there was no grading to tackle yet he figured this was as good of a time as any to try to get the lay of the land, so to speak. Plus, he needed to find the copier. He had printed out the syllabi for the first day on his home printer but there was no way he was going to keep doing that. He fully intended to use the school provided resources, thank you very much.

He was just about to grab his ID and keys and head out in pursuit of a copy machine or faculty room when someone stepped into his classroom. TK recognized him but couldn’t put a name to the face.

“Hey Mr. Strand, I just wanted to stop by to see how your first day was going. I’m Judd Ryder, one of the Assistant Principals.”

TK smiled at him, crossing over to shake his hand, “I remember you, you were on my interview committee, right?”

He nodded, “That’s right. I was pretty impressed by you, I think you’ll do great things here.”

“That’s very kind of you to say, I hope I can live up to it,” TK responded, a little taken aback by the praise.

Mr. Ryder shrugged, “I was impressed by your thoughts on curriculum, but really I think you’re going to do a good job connecting to the students. You’ve got the freshman this year and they need that. That connection might be the difference between failure and success for some of them.”

TK nodded, unsure of how to respond. He fiddled with his lanyard for a moment before the AP laughed, shaking his head; “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dump all that on you - my wife is always telling me I don’t need to voice every thought that pops into my head and, well clearly that’s a problem for me.”

TK relaxed and smiled at the older man, “It’s fine, it’s nice to hear such good things, it’s just the first day and all—a lot to take in, you know?”

Ryder nodded, “I hear that. Anything I could help with?”

“Actually, yeah—any chance you could point me towards a copier? My printer at home will never recover if I try to do much more with it.”

“Sure thing, I’ll take you there. It’s on my way anyways,” he said over TK’s protests, “no trouble at all.”

They step into the hallway and once TK is sure the door to his classroom is shut and locked behind him they move down the hall, back towards the main hallway. Judd keeps up a steady stream of conversation all the way and TK nods and makes noises of agreement where necessary. It’s not that he doesn’t like Judd, he’s just not used to such an amicable relationship with administrators. It had never been like that in any of his previous schools. He liked the feeling of familiarity but knew that it would be a while before he ever completely bought into it. He was much more likely to err on the side of polite professionalism.

They had arrived at the faculty room now and as TK went to open the door it swung open as another teacher stepped out. He was a little older than TK and his eyes went wide as he halted inches from colliding with him. Judd laughed from behind TK, “Well I was going to say you two should meet at some point, so I guess now is as good a time as any. TK Strand, meet Paul Strickland, one of our Earth Science teachers. He’s also your neighbor.”

Paul grinned and stuck out his hand, “it’s good to meet you, man. I was going to stop by later on, but bumping into each other works too I guess.”

TK chuckled and took the offered hand, “I suppose it does. So you’re my neighbor, huh?”

Paul nodded, “And part of the grade level team. You’ll actually be seeing the rest of us in a bit—we have common planning 5th period.”

TK nodded, he had noticed that on the schedule. “Cool, well, I’ll see you then. In the meantime, I should get some copies done while I have a chance.”

“Don’t use tray 3—it always jams.”

“Thanks for the tip.”

“Don’t mention it; I know how much it sucks to have to spend your entire prep clearing out a paper jam.”

“Still, I appreciate it.”

Paul nodded and then with another smile and a wave to Judd, he was gone. They watched him go for a second before Judd spoke again, “You have a solid team to work with in your wing, I’m sure you’ll all get along fine.”

“I think you might be onto something,” TK agreed. Then, with another thanks, he stepped into the faculty room, leaving the Assistant Principal behind.

---

Two periods later and TK was starting to remember how exhausting the first week of school was. The endurance it took to do this all day was nothing to scoff at, and each year in September it needed to be built up again. Somehow each year, he managed to forget that. As the last of the 4th-period stragglers filed out he sank into his desk chair and leaned back, allowing himself to take a deep breath. All he wanted to do was sleep for a week, but he still had common planning, hall duty, one more class, and an apartment full of boxes waiting to be unpacked. Sleep was a luxury he couldn’t afford right now.

A knock at his door wrenched him from his fantasies of peaceful sleep. He jumped to his feet, blinking the exhaustion out of his eyes as he looked towards the door to find Paul and two others standing on the threshold.

“The first week is always the hardest, isn’t it?” Paul noted as he invited himself into the room, the other two at his heels.

TK nodded, only cutting off for a yawn, “You could say that,” he finally got out.

Paul gave him a sympathetic grin before turning to his two companions. “Guys, this is TK Strand, the new English teacher. TK,” he said turning to face him, “this is Marjan Marwani and Mateo Chavez, Math and Social Studies teachers respectively.”

TK gave them each a nod and a smile. “So, we’re the ninth grade team?”

“One of them,” Marjan confirmed, settling onto one of the desks. “So you better get used to us - we’re stuck together and you get to see our lovely faces every day for this common planning period.”

“Where do we meet for that, by the way?”

“Your room of course,” Marjan said with a raised eyebrow, “the newbie always hosts.”

Paul rolled his eyes. “She’s kidding,” he informed TK, “but we do usually meet in here because there are more tables so it’s easier to spread out.”

“Fine with me,” TK replied with a shrug, “you guys are more than welcome.”

The others smiled their thanks before Mateo spoke up.

“So TK,” he asked in what was clearly meant to be a casual tone, “how long have you been teaching?”

TK raised an eyebrow, “This is my 4th year, why?”

“Damn it,” Mateo swore mournfully as Marjan let out a bright burst of laughter.

When TK shot Paul a confused look he stifled his own laughter long enough to explain, “Mateo here is our probie. He’s only in his second year and he’s desperately hoping to find someone lower on the totem pole than him. You being new to the district and pretty young, he thought maybe he had a chance.”

Now TK grinned outright as he turned his gaze back to Mateo, “sorry to disappoint you probie, but I already put in my time as the newbie. You have my sympathies though.”

Mateo pouted as the other two laughed lightly at him. TK shook his head fondly and sat on one of the desks to survey this group—his new team.

As Marjan crossed to Mateo to ruffle his hair and Paul rolled his eyes at the pair while not quite being able to hide his smile, something settled in TK’s gut. They were going to get along just fine. More than that, TK had a feeling that as long as he had this group at his side he’d be fine. Maybe, despite the disastrous beginning, this year might not be the disaster he feared after all.

---

After the first day, things went pretty smoothly. He’d settled into a routine and beyond the usual unpredictable nature of teenagers, he had everything under control. He was feeling pretty confident about this change—for once he may have actually made the right choice. He wanted to savor that feeling, but there was still one more unknown element to his work life that he hadn’t gotten to experience yet: the department meeting. So when Thursday rolled around he waved goodbye to the rest of his team and set off to find room 306.

If his past experience was anything to go on this meeting would likely be nothing more than a waste of time. Just something they are mandated to do where they talk about goals and test scores and analyze data without actually accomplishing anything actionable. But it was still something new; a potential disaster waiting around the corner for him. He’s almost convinced that’s what it’s going to be too - everything else is going far too well. Something has to give at some point.

He found the room and entered cautiously; scanning the room as he took an empty seat. Everyone else is chatting amongst themselves and while a few sent him curious glances as he entered, for the most part everyone is minding their own business. He was so focused on surveying the room that he almost jumped when the chair next to him was pulled out and someone slid into the seat beside him. He looked over to see a woman smiling at him warmly, “You must be TK Strand,” she said by way of greeting.

He nodded and her smile somehow grew as she stuck out her hand, “I’m Grace Ryder, one of the 10th grade English teachers and yes, Judd Ryder is my husband,” she confirms.

TK chuckled as he took her hand. Apparently, his surprise at hearing her name was more evident than he had thought, “It’s nice to meet you Grace, and I’m afraid I don’t have a very good poker face.”

She laughed lightly and shook her head, “No, you do not. I can’t say I blame you though - new school, first department meeting, and someone comes up and knows your name - I’d be flustered too. But my husband has mentioned you so I figured I’d check-in, make sure you weren’t left out for the sharks. They do love fresh meat.”

TK raised an eyebrow, “It’s not that bad, is it?”

“They like a laugh, but from everything I’ve heard I think you’ll do just fine.”

TK was going to ask what she meant by that when her expression shifted again as she spotted something over TK’s shoulder.

“They’re not all bad though,” she said with a smile. “In fact, here’s one you should meet. Reyes!” The last part was directed at someone behind TK. He turned to see who Grace was intent on him meeting and froze.

“TK,” Grace was saying as the man walked over, “This is Carlos Reyes, one of the Senior English teachers and an all-around good egg.”

Carlos chuckled and TK felt a shock run through his body at how wonderful of a sound it was.

“You’re too nice to me Grace,” Carlos was saying as he bent down to give her a quick one-armed hug.

Grace swatted at him, “I am exactly as nice to you as you deserve. Carlos, this is TK Strand - the new Freshman English teacher.”

Carlos turned his smile on TK, who was fairly certain he was going to melt in this very spot from the warmth of it, “We’ve met, actually—in passing. I didn’t know you were in the department, how’s it been so far?”

“Good, it’s been good,” he managed to splutter out after a few moments and the mortifying realization that he had been quiet for too long and Grace and Carlos were both looking at him.

Carlos kept smiling at him, “That’s good to hear. I’m sure I’ll see you around but feel free to let me know if you need anything. I’m in room 214.”

TK nodded and then with a wave, Carlos was gone. TK shook himself from his stupor to find Grace giving him a pitying look, “Oh honey,” was all she said. Her voice was low, but it was clear she was suppressing laughter.

“What?” TK demanded, even as he could feel a blush creeping up his cheeks. Grace just shook her head and let some of the laughter escape. He turned away from her petulantly but she reached out and put a comforting hand on his arm.

“I’m sorry dear,” she said through her laughter, “I’m not making fun of you, really. I can’t say I can blame you either; he is quite something.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he responded stiffly.

“Yes, I’m sure you don’t,” Grace said, making an effort to match his tone. He rolled his eyes and shot her an exasperated look but she just kept chuckling quietly even as the meeting started.

It was good to know he had been right about this meeting being the disaster he had been waiting for—it was just not the kind he had anticipated.

----

The days marched on and more and more it felt like any other school year. TK had fallen into a routine; he had found his stride. He had found his footing with his students; he had found friends in his team. This change—the new job, the new school, the new state—was going so much better than he had anticipated. When he had sent in the application, it had been on a whim. He had been floundering in the shambles of what had been and desperate for a direction, a way out. This job had seemed like a desperate hope; a future he could only dream of surrounded by the wreckage of his old hopes and plans. He had just needed a point to aim for, an exit sign to direct him out of this mess. He had never expected it to actually work.

But against all odds and his own firmly held beliefs he made it work, he hadn’t failed. It was an exciting prospect, but also a terrifying one. With things going this well, it was only a matter of time before the proverbial other shoe dropped. He does everything he can to prevent that eventuality. He works hard, throwing himself into every lesson plan and every assignment. He tackles any administrative task as soon as possible, never letting anything sit on his desk. Above all, he takes a wide berth around room 214. Carlos’s smile may live in his head rent-free, but he can’t afford a distraction. Especially not one like him —one so objectively perfect. He’s not ready for that and to be so close to the possibility would break his still-healing heart.

He almost welcomes the distraction of his traditional beginning of the year benchmark essay—right up until he gets a look at the stack awaiting grading. He is in the middle of the first period’s stack when the rest of the team walked in for common planning.

“It’s only the second week of school,” Mateo noted, “isn’t it a little early to be assigning essays?”

“No,” TK explained, looking up from the paper he was reading, “because it’s my job to get them to high school level writing by the end of the year for the sake of all of the other English teachers and I need to know where they are at now so I know what to focus on.”

Marjan leaned on the corner of his desk and poked at one of the piles apprehensively, “Learn anything yet?”

TK sighed wearily as he circled yet another use of “bc” and left a comment indicating that abbreviations may have their uses, but they did not belong in academic writing. “Yes,” he said, looking up from the paper before him, “I have learned that we have a lot of work to do.”

Mateo chuckled and Marjan winced sympathetically. Paul, who had grabbed one of the essays off the stack and was skimming it, raised an eyebrow.

“I do not envy you, man,” he noted as he replaced the paper, “and I thought trying to hammer the format of a lab report into their heads was hard. This is next level.”

“Academic writing is something completely different from what they’re used to,” TK pointed out reasonably, “It’s my job to teach them how to do it,” he paused here as he glanced back down at the paper before him. “Doesn’t make it any less painful though,” he said with another sigh.

The others settled down at and on the desks nearest to his and watched as he skimmed through another paper, pausing occasionally to make a comment or correction. After a few minutes he looked up at them, eyebrows raised.

“Are you all just going to sit there and watch me grade these or…”

Mateo shrugged and Marjan grinned back at him, “We’re offering you moral support, didn’t you know?”

He scowled and grabbed an old worksheet from the table beside him and balled it up to throw at her. She dodged it expertly and grinned even wider. Paul sighed from a nearby desk.

“Now children,” he admonished, voice filled with exasperation as he rolled his eyes at their antics.

“She started it,” TK pointed out reasonably. Paul shook his head and stood up.

“I think that as long as we can agree that there are no pressing matters to be discussed we can all take this time to work on our own grading, in our own classrooms. Any objections?”

Marjan looked like she was going to say something, but at TK’s narrowed eyes she sighed and shook her head.

“Good,” Paul declared with a nod. “Good luck with all those, man,” he added to TK as he headed to the door. TK wearily waved his thanks and then they were gone. He leaned back in his chair and sighed, rubbing at his tired eyes. He loved what he did really, but sometimes when faced with the stack of 120 essays and the reminder that other content areas didn’t have to do this, he sometimes regretted not following his father’s footsteps. Firefighters didn’t have to grade essays.

Inevitably, he would recall all of the reasons he didn’t join the family business: the long hours, the danger, the toll it had taken on his father over the years both physically and emotionally. Then he would think of all the reasons he loved teaching anyways and go back to work. This time was no exception. The only difference was that as he picked up his pen again to continue grading he felt a pang of guilt in his chest. He should really call his father. It had been too long. He knew that his dad was trying to give him space, trying to give him the time he needed to adjust on his own terms; but his dad had been the one thing in New York he hadn’t needed distance from. He was the one thing he had regretted leaving. He needed to call him - he owed him that much. More than that, it would be nice to hear his voice. After he finished this class’ essays, he promised himself, he’d take a break and call his dad during his lunch.

Fate seemed to have a different plan though as the next thing TK knew students were entering his classroom. He glanced up at the clock in surprise, only to find that he had worked straight through his prep and lunch without even noticing it. He sighed and put down his pen, standing to go greet his students at the door. His dad would have to wait, it seemed. He plastered on a smile and got ready to start the lesson.

At some point, Marjan appeared in his doorway, a sheepish look on her face. He nodded to her and instructed the kids to read the next section in the text on their own and be ready to share some thoughts from it before he crossed the room to meet her.

“What’s up?” he asked, expression furrowed.

She held up the papers in her hand, “I forgot I promised the SPED teacher I would get these 408s sighed during our common planning. I have all the documents that you can look over later, but for right now could you just sign so I can get these back to her?”

He smirked at her as he took the papers; flipping through them to see what students he was signing for, “How could you have possibly forgotten? Were you so busy doing something else that maybe it slipped your mind?”

“Haha,” she responded drily, expression far from impressed. He shook his head and chuckled, but pulled a pen out of his pocket and used the wall beside the door to sign his name on the appropriate lines. He went to hand them back to her, but pulled up just short and held them just out of her reach, “do I have your word that you will provide me with the proper documentation for all these students so I can be assured I did not just commit fraud by signing these?”

She rolled her eyes at him, “Yes, I will bring them by at the end of the day.” With that she held out her hand for the papers, which he passed back to her. Then she was gone, and he turned back to his class.

“Alright, I asked you to have things to share, so who’s going to break the ice?”

There was the typical teenage silence before one of the girls in the back raised her hand tentatively, but not before glancing at her friends.

“Aniyah, what do you think?” TK asked her with a grin, perching himself on his desk.

“Mr. Strand, are you and Ms. Marwani dating?”

TK blinked at her. He glanced around at the rest of the kids in the room, none of whom seemed surprised by the question. “No,” he answered slowly, “why would you ask that?”

She shrugged awkwardly, glancing at her friends for support, “You guys just seem really close, and almost like you’re flirting?”

He shrugged, “No, we’re just friends, definitely not dating—not that it is any of your business.”

One of the boys in the front smirked at him, “I don’t know Mister, you two seem pretty friendly, I think maybe you’re in denial.”

TK met the kid’s eyes and raised a single eyebrow as he said drily, “I can assure you she’s not my type.”

Most of the kids nodded sagely, but a few seemed puzzled. He rolled his eyes and stood up, “Okay, ‘discuss Mr. Strand’s love life’ time is over. Don’t think you’re going to distract me enough that I forget about the homework. Anyone else want to share any thoughts on the reading—you know, the class work; that thing we’re here for?”

A few hands raised but even as he called on them he was chuckling to himself. Marjan was going to love this.

----

As time progresses TK sticks to his plan: do his work, make a good impression, avoid Carlos. He’s successful in that last goal too, for a while. But of course, nothing good can last and one October afternoon in the faculty room, his streak is broken.

He crossed the room towards the mailboxes without glancing around and didn't think to check his surroundings until a familiar voice called for his attention.

“Hey TK, how have things been? You settling in alright?”

He froze, slowly glancing up from the flyer about the can drive he had been reading. He knew before he saw (there was no mistaking that voice) but his heart still skipped a beat just the same.

“Carlos, hey. Yeah, it’s been great actually. No problems at all.”

Carlos grinned at him and TK had to remind himself how to breathe. “Glad to hear it. Oh,” he said suddenly, “this is Michelle Blake, one of the school social workers. And my best friend,” he added with a roll of his eyes when Michelle, apparently, gave him a pointed look.

She grinned at his addition before turning to face TK. She looked him up and down appraisingly before speaking, “It’s nice to finally meet you TK, Carlos has mentioned you.”

TK flicked his gaze to Carlos who was very intently studying the rice in his lunch and studiously avoiding both their gazes. “Nothing bad, I hope,” he said lightly.

Internally, he was panicking.

“Definitely not. Nothing but the truth I’m sure, and the truth was all good.”

“Right,” TK said with uncertainty. He waited, but Michelle did not speak again. “Well,” he said eventually, “I should get going. I just wanted to grab these flyers and then I was going to try to use the rest of my prep to try and put together a mini-unit for Halloween.”

At this, Carlos looked up, “What are you thinking?”

TK shrugged, “I was leaning towards Poe. Always a classic, and in my experience, kids have always liked his stuff.”

“I have some materials you could use, if you’d like. I’ve done that before, so I have most of the stuff in one of my binders.”

“Really?” he didn’t even bother to hide the surprise in his voice.

Carlos nodded, “Sure. You can stop by at the end of the day, if you’d like.”

TK hesitated. One the one hand, there was the pact he had made with himself: no distractions. On the other, there was a unit he wouldn’t have to plan. Which meant more prep time to spend on grading, which meant less work to take home.

“That'd be great, thanks. Room 214, right?”

As if he could have forgotten.

Carlos nodded in confirmation, “See you later then?”

“Absolutely.”

Then with a smile to the pair, TK was gone. He didn’t realize he was still grinning until he ran into Paul outside of his classroom. The other teacher looked at him suspiciously, “what has you looking so chipper?”

“Nothing,” TK said too hastily, judging by Paul’s look, “one of the other English teachers has materials I can use for a unit I wanted to do so as long as they work out, that’s an entire unit I don’t have to plan.”

Paul nodded appreciatively, “That’s a lucky break.”

TK nodded again before excusing himself and stepping into his own classroom. The rest of the day flew by and before he knew it he was seeing his last class out the door. Once they were gone and the hallway was mostly clear of students, TK grabbed his things and headed up to room 214. There’s a trophy case down the hall and he stops and anxiously checks his reflection before approaching the door to room 214. It’s open but TK hovered at the threshold nervously, knocking on the doorframe to get Carlos’s attention. He looked up from his desk and the smile that spread across his face at the sight of TK nearly had him holding onto the doorframe for support.

“Hey,” he said in what he prayed was a normal voice, “I was just here for those files, if you still wanted to give them to me?”

“Actually, I’ve changed my mind and you can’t have them.”

“Oh,” TK said, “I’ll just go then, sorry for—”

“TK, I’m kidding,” Carlos assured him as he stood up from his desk. “I offered them, didn’t I? Besides, we’re working on college essays and applications; there won’t be any time for Poe this year.”

“That’s a shame,” TK noted as he took a few tentative steps inside the room, “but I’m sure they’ll appreciate it when they have their applications done.”

“That’s the hope,” Carlos agreed, “but right now they’re not too fond of me.”

TK chuckled and Carlos looked up from the bookshelf he was scanning to see TK still standing a few feet from the door. “I don’t bite,” he deadpanned, “you can come in.”

TK laughed nervously and crossed the room, coming to a halt several feet away from Carlos. The other man continued scanning the shelf and upon finding what he was looking for made a triumphant noise before turning to face TK, holding out a binder. TK raised an eyebrow and took it, glancing over at the shelves that were filled with neat rows of binders all clearly labeled.

“You are aggressively organized,” he noted.

Carlos chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah. I know it looks like a lot, but after switching grade levels a few times it’s the only way I can keep anything straight anymore.”

TK nodded as he slipped through the binder, “That’s fair. I used to have a lot of binders like that too, but I thankfully digitized them before I moved down here. I can’t imagine transporting all those across the country would have been fun.”

“No, I can’t imagine it would be. Guess it’s a good thing I have no intention of leaving.”

TK looked up from the binder to see Carlos studying him. He smiled at the other man, who returned it before settling onto the desk across from TK.

“I didn’t realize you were new to the area.”

TK nodded, “Just moved here from NYC about 2 weeks before school started.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, “that’s ambitious.”

TK sighed and nodded. “Wouldn’t have been my first choice, but everything happened so fast. Thankfully everything has worked out pretty well so this may not be the horrific disaster I thought it would be.”

“That’s optimism for you,” Carlos observed dryly. “What brought you down here, if you don’t mind me asking.”

TK’s hand froze in its journey down the page he was reviewing as his other hand clenched the binder tightly.

“Just looking for a fresh start,” he said evenly, keeping his eyes firmly planted on the page before him and praying that Carlos could not hear the racing of his heart.

If Carlos noticed anything odd, he didn’t let on.

“That’s a big change. Did you come down here alone?”

“Just me, myself, and my boxes.”

“So why Austin then? I could be wrong, but it seems like a pretty big change from NYC.”

“I wanted to leave the city and try something new. I saw this opening here, researched the school, and decided it was worth a shot. What about you though,” he asked, switching gears and looking up from the binder, “Austin born and raised?”

“Yep, go Longhorns,” he said with forced enthusiasm. TK raised a skeptical eyebrow and Carlos pushed on, “never mind. So,” he continued, and TK noticed a change in his tone that had him looking up again, “leave anyone behind in New York?”

There was silence for a moment as their eyes met and they both knew what was really being asked.

“Just my dad.”

“Yeah, I only have my family too. But there’s a lot of them so that’s more than enough.”

TK smiled in spite of himself. “My mom’s in New York too, but she’s always traveling for work so really it’s always been just me and my dad. Honestly, leaving him there was the hardest thing about this move, and the only thing I regret.”

He paused in the wake of his words, surprised by how much he just shared with this near stranger but before he could dwell on it Carlos was giving him a reassuring smile that set his nerves at ease.

“Sounds like you’re close.”

“We are,” TK confirmed, voice growing softer as he thought about his dad. “He’s still my hero, always has been. He’s a firefighter, and I thought I wanted to be one when I was young too. But as I got older, I saw the toll it took on him and decided to take a different path. I still love and admire him for doing it though. I couldn’t picture him doing anything else.”

There was quiet in the room again. TK started to panic, thinking that maybe he shared too much (he still can’t believe he said any of that), but something about Carlos makes him feel so comfortable he hadn’t even noticed until the words were already out there. He’s about to apologize when Carlos speaks.

“I get that. My dad was a cop and it was the same way when I was growing up. He was larger than life and my hero; I wanted to be just like him. But then I got older and decided I didn’t like the reality of law enforcement as much as I had the concept. I decided I could do more good from inside a classroom and well, here we are.”

“Here we are,” TK agreed, “who would have thought?”

Carlos laughed appreciatively and the sound washed over TK with all the warmth of sunlight. He smiled back at him before turning his gaze back to the binder. The conversation flows easily between them and before TK knew it he caught a glance at his watch and let out a curse when he realized how late it had gotten. Carlos gave him a questioning look and TK gestured up at the clock, “We should have left ages ago. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hold you up; I’m sure you have things to do.”

“It’s fine, this was nice. Maybe if you stop by more often, we can chat in smaller increments. Otherwise I’m afraid this is just going to keep happening—I don’t think I’ll be able to let you go quickly if I don’t think there is a chance of it happening again within the next year.”

TK rolled his eyes, “Well excuse me for being busy settling into a new school.”

Which was a reasonable excuse. There is no way anyone would suspect he had been avoiding the other man (even though he absolutely had been).

Still, this had been nice.

He fingered the strap of his bag as he picked it up, “maybe we can continue this during lunch tomorrow? I’d like to actually ask you some questions about the materials, which is what I came here to do before we got sidetracked.”

Part of TK was praying he would say no.

Instead, he grinned, “sure, I’d like that. Until tomorrow then, Mr. Strand.”

“See you then, Reyes.”

And with a wave, he was gone.

His heart was still racing as he climbed into his car. He leaned against the seat and sighed. Operation avoid Carlos Reyes had officially crashed and burned. This was a terrible idea; he should find a reason to cancel tomorrow and go back to avoiding him as much as possible. This was a risk he didn’t need to be taking.

But even as he sat here, he couldn’t ignore the warm feeling of the aftermath of a pleasant conversation. His mind was shouting at him that this was a terrible idea, but he was having a harder time believing it with every passing second. His rules said no dating, but there was no reason they couldn’t be friends, right?

[Continue Reading on ao3]

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos fic #my writing #userkimmy #userjilly #userac #usermaximus #sunshinestrand #lonestarbabe #lire-casander #bellakitse #sneetchestoo #reyesstrand #moviegeek03 #captainstennerstar #tarlosbuddie

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wolveria · 5 years ago

Text

Unable to perceive the shape of you - Ch. 6

Pairing: Connor x f!Reader x Nines

Summary: After breaking the RK twins out of the MarineLife facility, you were determined to return them to the ocean before getting caught by your employer.

What you hadn’t counted on were the brothers deciding you belonged to them.

Prompt: Mermay! (Shape of Water/Splash AU)

Word Count: 2.9k

AO3

When Nines offered to drive, you tried to say no. There was no way he knew how to drive, but he insisted he was a fast learner, and you were barely able to stand.

Connor had explained the reason why with his cheeks tinged an adorable blue. Something about ceta semen having a ‘sedative’ effect on humans. Your response was to give him a goofy smile and tell him that meant you were ‘drugged on his cum.’

His face had gone an impressive shade of blue as he’d led you out to the car.

It turned out Nines was a decent driver, or seemed to be from your limited view of the backseat, your head resting in Connor’s lap. He hadn’t exaggerated about the strange aftereffects, though in all honesty, you didn’t mind. Connor’s fingers trailed lightly across your hair, fingertips rubbing your scalp, you thought you might have died and gone to heaven. Even the pain in your legs was unnoticeable, something you hadn’t experienced in years.

You were going to joke if ceta semen had magical healing properties but you fell asleep before you could, and by the time you woke up, you were sober and aching again. Not a magic cure-all then, but a temporary, effective distraction.

It would have been scientifically interesting if you hadn’t been so shocked at your own behavior. You’d had sex with, not one, but both of them. You hadn’t planned for it to happen, and now that it had, your stomach churned terribly with nerves.

As if that wasn’t complicated enough, you had the two bite marks on your shoulders that meant something very specific to ceta behavior. Were they aware of what the marks meant? They’d bandaged your shoulders with the supplies meant for them, and apart from apologizing for biting you (“I don’t know why I did it,” Connor had said, brows furrowed), they hadn’t said anything else about it.

They couldn’t possibly know. According to the records, they’d been wild-caught very young and hadn’t been old enough to be taught by other wild cetas. It had just been instinct, nothing more. You weren’t going to tell them that cetas only bit during sex to mark their chosen, lifelong mate.

What would be the point in telling them, anyway? It wasn’t like you were a viable mate to begin with. Plus, you would reach the coast by the end of the day, and they would be gone from your life forever. Leaving you only twin scars to remember them by.

You buried your face against Connor’s thigh, wishing you were drugged or high or whatever. The biologist in you wondered why their semen even had that affect. Was it simply a mismatch of biology? Or was it a way to actually lure and capture their prey, like a spider with a web.

If so, you were a thoroughly captivated fly. Connor’s fingers had started moving in your hair again, and your eyes were already half-closed as you fought to stay awake.

You couldn’t stay in Connor’s lap forever, unfortunately. Rubbing your eyes, you pulled yourself into a sitting position, wincing at the sharp pain in your spine from the awkward position.

“What do you guys want for lunch?” You stretched and cracked your back, wincing as you you stared out the window at the slanted sunlight. You frowned. “Or… dinner. How long did I sleep?”

“A few hours,” Connor said, tilting his head. “You seemed tired and we didn’t want to wake you.”

“Oh.” Your cheeks warmed uncomfortably. You were supposed to be taking care of them, not the other way around. “We can stop for something to eat then—“

“We can’t stop.”

Nines voice cut through yours, short and tense in a way that was unlike him. When your looked at him, you realized the tablet attached to the dashboard was on, muted but on a 24-hour news channel.

“What?” you asked. “Why not?”

“Show her.”

Connor leaned forward and tapped his finger on the screen. You’d forgotten he said something about stealing smartphones belonging to the techs to use them, and he definitely seemed comfortable using technology.

He sat back but stayed close, his knee pressed against yours. The news segment played, unmuted now.

“Today in what can only be described as an egregious theft, two Ceta sapiens were stolen from the research facility known as MarineLife. It’s suspected that this woman, an employer of the company, is responsible for the missing creatures.”

You stared at the blond newscaster as she read your name aloud, and when they showed your employee pictures on the screen, the car slightly spun around you.

“If you have any information of the whereabouts of this woman, contact the proper authorities immediately. Do not approach the suspect as these animals are dangerous and highly aggressive.”

“They know what my car looks like,” you said once the news clip ended. “The police will have my registration. We have to ditch the car. Find a new one. Steal one, or, or something.”

Connor said your name, but you barely heard it.

“I should have thought of this. I should have anticipated—“

“It won’t be a problem for now,” Nines said, effectively cutting you off again. “I have been using your GPS to keep us on rural farm roads. No one should stop us.”

“What if they do?” you asked faintly. You didn’t miss the way Nines gripped the steering wheel tighter.

“We will make it to our destination. I won’t allow anyone to get in our way.”

You shivered and wrapped your arms in front of your stomach. The warmth of Connor beside you wasn’t enough to ward off the cold feeling of dread tucked along your spine.

Since going into cities with your car and showing your face was out of the question, so was NYC. You’d planned to drive them to the beaches and let them go there, directly into the ocean. Now having to evade authorities, Nines drove the car further north of the city toward the Hudson.

True to his word, you only stopped for bathroom breaks. Aside from sunglasses you didn’t have anything to hide your face, so you were careful to avoid cameras, even as Connor assured you they were interrupting the feeds with echolocation bursts.

At least ten hours from when you’d left the motel that morning, you finally arrived at your destination, a mystery to you since Nines wouldn’t say where you was going. Between him and Connor, they’d completely taken over the journey and you didn’t have much say in the matter. You’d convinced Nines at one point to let you drive, and after a couple of hours of magnifying leg pain, you gave up and let them handle maneuvering the backroads of New York.

You should have been impatient to get them to freedom, but you couldn’t help but be relieved, if not a little confused, when Nines turned down another backroad deeper into the maple and birch forest.

You narrowed your eyes at the road but couldn’t read the sign you passed in the darkening twilight.

“Where are we going?”

In the rearview mirror you watched as Nines’ eyes flickered to Connor’s in that way of silent communication. As if to prove your suspicions, Connor turned to you and answered in place of his brother.

“Someplace safe where we won’t be seen for the night.”

Racking your brain, you tried to think but couldn’t think of any places in the area that would fit that description. It wasn’t until the car passed other parked vehicles, some of them trailers and campers, that it finally clicked.

“Oh.” You rubbed your aching knees. “I don’t have any camping equipment. Just some blankets, and it’s going to get chilly.”

“We will make due,” Nines said in his usual dismissive manner.

You didn’t know if he meant to come across as so cold, but it didn’t stop you from leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms, pointedly looking out the window. You were growing self-conscious, even anxious over what had happened the night before. Neither brother had mentioned it, when it had filled your thoughts for most of the day.

Connor gently nudged you with his elbow. He’d been beside you the entire time, either in the backseat with you or in the front seat as you’d driven. Practically connected at the hip all day, even he hadn’t mentioned anything about last night, and the tension in your stomach wound tighter. A taut bowstring about to fire or snap in half.

So it was no surprise when Connor touched you, you flinched hard in your seat. His brown eyes went rounder and he moved closer.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.” You gave him a quick upturn of your lips. “Just tired.”

Connor’s brow sharpened as he studied you closer. You tried not to squirm in your seat. The bumpiness of the dirt road, if it could be called that at this point, helped cover the movement.

Nines turned the car into the forest and carefully maneuvered the vehicle through the trees until he came to the edge of a clearing. He put the car into park and turned off the ignition.

The sudden silence, without the sound of the engine or traffic or city noises, was an uncomfortable pressure on your ear drums.

Desperately needing to fill the dead air, you asked, “Are you sure you two don��t want to leave tonight?”

Connor slightly tilted his head but Nines’ shoulders stiffened from where you could see them under the headrest.

“The Hudson isn’t far,” you continued, forcing yourself to sound neutral, as if each word didn’t hurt somewhere in your chest. “We could be there in less than an hour, and you could follow it out to the sea. You could… go home.”

Connor shifted in his seat and slightly leaned forward, brows so sharp there was a crease between them.

“What about you?” His eyes searched yours, his teeth worrying the inside of his cheek. “They’ll catch you. Punish you for helping us.”

“I’ll be fine.”

It was almost funny how your lies had changed. You were the one without hope now. Trapped in a pool of water with no way out. But the lie was as necessary now as it had been then in order to protect the twins.

“Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

Connor opened his mouth but Nines cut him off.

“You want us to leave, then?”

You were completely taken aback by his hostile tone.

“What? No. Of course not. Nines—“

He was already moving, shoving the door open and shutting it hard behind him. You quickly lost sight of him in the dim tree line.

Your mouth hung partway open, at a loss of what to say.

“He’s scared.”

Connor’s words were delicate and his eyes soft, moving from where his brother had disappeared and down to your face.

“He’s afraid to lose you. We both are. We know it’s unavoidable if we go back home.”

“If?” Your voice rose slightly, your chest tightening. “There is no if. You-you have to go back home. There’s no other option. You can’t—“

Connor reached out and took your hand from your lap, twining it between his, leaving you warm and without a voice.

“Maybe… we could find a way to work.” His words were slow and careful but his expression was one of lingering hope. “We can survive on land so long as we’re hydrated frequently. With our abilities we could easily disrupt ATMs and cameras, so money and moving around won’t be an issue. The Canadian border isn’t far, and we—“

His words had sped up, the excitement in his voice building, and it hurt you to have to cut them down.

“Connor, you can’t.” You squeezed his hand tight, pleading with him to understand and not make this difficult. “You and Nines have to go home. You don’t belong in this world. Why would you even want to stay when it’s been nothing but cruel to you?”

He tilted his head and angled his brows upwards.

“Because you’re in it.”

Your mouth opened but no words came out, and you were left like that, gaping stupidly at him.

Connor leaned closer, a gentle tug teasing his lips.

“Did you really think we would leave you behind? Let the humans lock you away after you risked your life to save us?” His expression folded into something slightly pained. “Nines hasn’t told you, has he? What they were going to do to him after I was sent to the breeding facility.”

You shook your head, mouth too dry to speak as your gut twisted. You hadn’t actually thought about it, but knowing your employers, it couldn’t be anything good.

“They were going to kill him.”

A darkness passed over Connor’s face, one that was rare to see but genuinely frightening.

“‘Destroy him,’ is the phrase they used. Afterwards, they planned to take him apart. Disassemble him to learn more about our species.”

Connor searched your face. “Do you understand, now? We owe you our lives. The both of us.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” Your words had to fight past the lump in your throat; your grip on his fingers must have been painfully tight. “This isn’t about me.”

Connor raised his other hand to tangle his fingers in your hair and leaned forward as if to kiss you. Instead, he leaned his forehead against yours as his hand cradled the back of your neck.

Somehow it felt more intimate than a kiss, sharing the same breathing space with him and feeling the heat radiating off his skin through his clothing. A tremble rippled down your spine when Connor sighed and you felt the puff of air against your lips.

“We’re not abandoning you.” The smile tugged at his lips again. “Especially Nines.”

You frowned at the very confusing statement. If anything, you felt like the tension between you and Nines had gotten worse since last night, and you couldn’t understand why.

Connor caught sight of your frown and raised a brow. “You’re important to him. Have been since we first met you. You… treated him like a living being. No one else at that place did. You even gave him a name.”

You remembered it all too well. On the official research documents, the twins were labeled as RK800 and RK900, and they’d never bothered to give Nines a name. Dr. Stern had given Connor his name, and you’d found out why the other brother had been left as ‘RK900’ late one night while you were cleaning the offices.

Dr. Kamski was tucked away in his office also working overtime, but there was an open bottle of whiskey on his desk. It had been obvious he’d had more than a sip, and you imagined that was the only reason why he’d started talking to you.

“Do you know why we gave a name to the cute, little one, and not its larger, aggressive sibling?” He’d smiled with the same warmth as a shark. “Temperament. Everyone loves Connor, or as much as one can love a wild animal. But its twin, that hulking beast… well… there’s only so much you can do with a vicious creature like that.”

Dr. Kamski had leaned in uncomfortably close, smiling in a way that didn’t meet his eyes, and said, “You name the family pet. You don’t name the livestock.”

You hadn’t known exactly what he’d meant at the time, but knowing now what they’d had planned for Connor and Nines, it made you sick down to your bones. You wanted to hide your face from Connor, at the gentle look he was giving you. It was undeserved.

“Yeah,” you grumbled. “I named him like a pet.”

“He didn’t see it that way. Still doesn’t.” Connor’s thumb rubbed across the back of your knuckles as if to soothe you.

“Aside from me, you were the only other person who’s ever been kind to him,” he added, a teasing edge to his voice. “I know you care about him too.”

“Of course I do,” you said, it wasn’t even a question. “That’s not… not the issue, Connor. I don't want you two to be caught because of me. It’s not worth it.”

Connor slightly lowered his head, giving you a piercing stare that turned his brown eyes into dark stones.

“I think that’s for us to decide.”

Connor leaned forward and pressed his lips against your forehead. Unable to resist or deny him anything, you closed your eyes and basked in the warmth, leaning into the touch. Already your internal walls were breaking down and you wanted to tell him yes, you would stay with them no matter what.

But you couldn’t make that promise, not when it put their lives at risk.

“Just think about it, okay?” Connor’s smile was so faint it almost wasn’t there, though the sadness was. As if he knew the thoughts running through your mind as there wasn’t anything he could say to stop them. “There’s still time.”

Pulling away from you, Connor opened the door and got out of the car, leaving you cold and alone.

A glimpse of your life without the RK twins in it.

Next Chapter

#detroit: become human #detroit become human #mermay #mermaid au #connor x reader #nines x reader #rk1700 x reader #mermaid connor #mermaid nines #rk800 #rk900 #my writing #my fanfiction

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jaskiers-sweetkiss · 4 years ago

Text

Worth It

Pairings: Dousy, background Pepperony, FitzSimmons, Philinda, Mackelana, and Huntingbird

Word Count: 2.8K

Warnings: mentions of violence, mentions of gun use, mentions of ptsd, light swearing

a/n: Here’s my soulmate au for day 6 of @aosficnet2 ‘s AoS AU August! It’s got Modern Man!Daniel Sousa based on Enver’s appearance as a police officer in The Avengers.

___

Daisy “Quake” Johnson - Inhuman, hacker, Agent of SHIELD, and now she could add “Avenger” to her list of descriptors. The agent hadn’t been entirely surprised when she’d received an impromptu meeting with Director Nick Fury about her powers. At the time he had told her he was putting together a team, a group of people with super-human abilities that would work together to defend the world if the threat arose. She had signed on, she was already a SHIELD agent and she’d had plenty of training with her ability from her mom growing up at Afterlife, but she never met the team. Well, until about 24 hours ago. They were a bit of a nightmare (a complete shitshow if she was being blunt), none of them had worked together before so it was no surprise that they were butting heads. Daisy got along just fine with Natasha Romanoff aka the Black Widow as the two of them had crossed paths from time to time within SHIELD, but she couldn’t say the same for scientist Bruce Banner (the Hulk), billionaire Tony Stark (Iron Man), or the first-ever superhero Steve Rogers (Captain America). Of course, now they were also dealing with a Norse god of thunder who was supposedly good and his brother who was apparently bad. Thor, Stark, and Rogers: three massive egos in one aircraft.

Judging by the footage they were streaming from the museum Loki was more than just bad. Daisy had always been wary of powers, her mom had taught her that. Power was extremely dangerous when put in the wrong hands, that’s why Afterlife was so selective in choosing who got to go through terrigenesis. Loki was clearly the wrong hands and even though she really hated the men she was surrounded with, if they were the world’s only hope then she’d put up with them.

“So you expect me to believe there is life on other planets?”

Daisy sighed, trying not to get too frustrated. The man had been in the ice for seventy years, he missed a lot and probably had no reason to expect that “aliens” existed. Of course, she had known the truth since she was a child: not only was it highly probable that life existed elsewhere in the galaxy, but she was part-alien herself. Of course, no one else knew that. Inhumans were a secret from the rest of the world and it would need to stay that way.

“Oh, I’m sorry Seismic Activity, did you know that already?” Stark asked sarcastically, raising a brow at her and she rolled her eyes.

“It’s Quake, actually, and yeah, I knew that, statistically, it was highly probable that alien life exists,” she bit back, glaring at the man, “Just about everyone in this century knows that.”

“Agent Johnson if you have some sort of issue with when I was born then you should just come out and say it,” Cap said, a frown on his face as he sat up in his chair.

“Look, I couldn’t give two shits whether you were born yesterday or a thousand years ago, I just don’t think we really have time to be debating extraterrestrial life right now,” Daisy said, fighting the urge to roll her eyes again as she gestured to the holoscreen displaying Loki’s cell.

“She’s right, gear up.” Director Fury said. Daisy wasn’t sure when he had entered but she was glad he was taking her side. “We’re under attack.”

Daisy nodded, rushing out of the room to find her gauntlets and her weapons. It wasn’t a great idea to quake on a giant helicarrier so she’d probably be fighting old school.

“Woah, what the hell is that Johnson?” Natasha Romanoff was sneakier than Fury and Daisy hadn’t even known she was in the room until her wrist was tightly in the woman’s grasp.

She sighed, tugging her arm out of the redhead’s grip and slipping on her gauntlet to cover the writing. The marks weren’t uncommon, most of the world had them. They developed at age 16 and were usually the first words your soulmate said to you. However, not everyone got one or soulmates died and SHIELD specialized in utilizing the soulmark-less. That’s not to say there weren’t agents with soul marks in the organization, for ordinary agents SHIELD held a mostly don’t ask, don’t tell policy. Typically the only way to get into high-risk assignments like the Avengers was to prove the lack of a soulmate, but of course, the Avengers were less than typical.

“They make exceptions for people with powers.” She brushed it off, slipping on her other gauntlet.

“That doesn’t change the fact that you’re connected to someone,” Natasha argued and Daisy huffed, turning away.

“Stark’s got a mark, and he’s actually met his soulmate. If something happens to me mine’ll never know what they missed.”

Daisy quickly slid her various knives and guns into place in their holsters before leaving, effectively putting an end to one of the worst conversations she’d had in a while. She didn’t need the Black Widow to guilt-trip her, she had herself for that. She’d heard the stories about the pain people felt when their soulmate died and it often kept her up at night, but right now she had a job to do and she’d be damned if she sacrificed the world for one person she hadn’t even met.

Of course, her dedication to the cause hadn’t mattered much, she still wound up on the floor of the helicarrier with Phil Coulson bleeding out. She didn’t know the man super well, but he was usually the agent present whenever an 0-8-4 was discovered and since Daisy was something of an 0-8-4 herself, they crossed paths pretty frequently. She knew he was an upstanding and kind man, she knew he was a good agent, and she knew he didn’t deserve to die like this.

It wasn’t long until Fury came and swept him away and Hill ushered her back into the briefing room where some of the others were gathered. They all looked worse for wear and apparently they were about ready to give up. The Hulk was gone, Loki had jettisoned Thor from the airship, and he has the tesseract and would likely be taking over earth shortly. Daisy couldn’t believe it.

“I just watched several good agents die, and you want to throw in the towel? Do you have any respect for yourselves?” She questioned, glaring at Rogers and Stark.

She stormed out when she was met with silence, passing Fury in the hallway. She wanted desperately to change out of her skintight Quake suit and get cleaned up, but she wasn’t ready to give up the fight yet, opting instead to unzip the top half, tying the sleeves around her waist. She wandered around the ship like that, her sports bra the only thing covering her torso, before finding herself on the top deck, leaning over a railing.

“Have you met them yet?”

Daisy turned to see Rogers gesturing to her wrist where the words “Who the hell are you?” were written in a neat script.

“Nah,” she shook her head, barely concealing her disappointment with a smile.

“You’ll find them eventually, or they’ll find you.” He gave her a tight-lipped smile.

“Thanks for not berating me for risking my life while my soulmate is out there somewhere.”

“Hey, I hid my makr to join a highly experimental drug trial and enlist in World War Two so I don’t have much room for judgment.” He joked and Daisy laughed, feeling a little better.

___

Daniel Sousa had been sure this would be another day at the station as he slipped his uniform over his shoulders, covering the soulmark on the back of his shoulder. Soulmarks appeared when a person turned 16, appearing at the place where their soulmate would first come in contact with them. The combination of the location of his mark and the words (“Probably your only chance at survival now let me go”) had always been a mystery to him though he hoped he would solve it soon.

He took the subway to the station, just like he did every morning. Daniel was a police officer for the 99th precinct in NYC which was about a fifteen-minute subway ride away from his apartment. Despite its obvious flaws (thanks MTA), he liked taking the subway - it was more environmentally friendly than driving himself, it was much faster than trying to make it through New York traffic or walk (though sometimes he did walk when it was nice and his leg wasn’t bugging him as much), and the crowds increased the probability that he’d come across his soulmate.

She wasn’t on the subway today again and so Daniel resigned himself to daydreams of how they might meet. He hoped it would be romantic, that she’d bump into him accidentally (it was the best way he could explain the back of his shoulder), maybe he’d catch her as she tripped over him and they’d lock eyes and she’d take his breath away. He pushed away the fears that she would be freaked out by his prosthetic or the fact that her words on his shoulder didn’t fit that scenario at all. He wanted their meeting to be perfect for her.

He was ripped away from his thoughts by his partner, Jack Thompson, telling him they had to go check out a call downtown. There weren’t any detectives involved so it likely wasn’t anything serious- probably a noise complaint or something equally mundane.

Daniel had been right, the call was a typical noise complaint, easily solved and probably ignored as soon as they left the building (Jack bet they’d be back in 24 hours, Daniel gave it 32). However, he never could’ve guessed that when they went to climb back into the squad car a portal would open up in the sky and a bunch of space creatures would attack earth. Thompson grabbed the radio to inform the station of the situation. It took a few minutes of convincing (he didn’t blame them, he only believed it because he was seeing it) and a few more to figure out what to do (there really isn’t an official protocol for Hostile Alien Invasion) before they were told to stay put and that backup was on the way.

Daniel reached for his gun, steeling himself for the fight he was sure he was about to be involved in. An alien invasion would be a really bad time for his crippling ptsd. Still, he was sure his hand would shake if he had to actually lift his gun, his finger would hesitate on the trigger, he’d have to fight to keep his eyes open because if he closed them all he’d see was Afghanistan.

“Sousa you with me?” Thompson asked, snapping him from his thoughts.

He nodded, letting out a shaky breath, when had he stopped breathing?

Thompson nodded, more to himself than to Daniel, “Good, cause we’re going to get through this.”

___

If she had been really thinking at all, she might’ve wondered if she was having an out-of-body experience as she moved through the streets of Manhattan with the purpose of a woman on a mission. The Avengers were scattered across the borough trying to fight the Chitauri with mixed success. It seemed like no matter how many they blasted, quaked, shot, or struck with lightning more kept coming through the portal. Daisy was taking out as many of the aliens as she could while trying to command the local police forces- badges or not, they were purely human and severely underprepared to fight this threat. Their services were more equipped to evacuate and protect the civilians.

She hadn’t been paying attention when she knocked into someone’s shoulder. It was a police officer, she noticed, though where most of the officers she’d seen seemed ready to take on the Chitauri head-on, he looked terrified.

“Who the hell are you?” The man questioned, quickly grabbing her wrist before she could run off.

“Probably your only chance at survival now let me go.” Daisy bit back angrily and the man gasped, dropping her arm and backing away like she had burned him.

“You’re- we’re-” The man stuttered and even though he could’ve been about to say anything (maybe “you’re Quake!” or “We’re gonna die!”) Daisy knew exactly what he meant. She knew from the burning sensation on the wrist he had been holding. He was her soulmate.

“Oh my god, I don’t have time for this!” Daisy yelled angrily, quaking the alien that had appeared behind the man.

She silently cursed fate or destiny or whatever was behind this for planning her soulmate meeting during a literal alien invasion.

“Listen, I need you to leave the frontlines- spread the word: all officers are to evacuate as many civilians as possible. Focus on protecting them.” She ordered making an effort to put the world-altering event before the life-altering event she had accidentally just stumbled upon.

“Who’s going to be there to fight?”

Daisy quaked another approaching Chitauri soldier. “Leave that to the people with powers.”

The officer nodded mutely, seemingly stunned into silence.

“Sousa!” Another officer called out, “Quit chatting we have a job to do!”

The dark-haired officer, her soulmate, nodded to the man and started to move away.

“Officer Sousa!” Daisy called, taking steps backward herself, “Maybe we can get some coffee when this is all done?”

“Sure but how’ll I find you?” He asked, turning back to stare at her hopefully.

Daisy’s steps were picking up speed, the urgency of the day not lost on her. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll find you!”

And with that she was off, turning on her heels and sprinting towards Stark Tower.

___

Daisy stared at the computer monitor in front of her. It had been a few days since the Chitauri attack and while New York and her mental state was still a disaster, she needed to do this. The file she had found in SHIELD’s database was a welcome distraction, as was the handsome face staring back at her from the screen.

Daniel Jordan Sousa. Born 1984 in Twin Falls, Idaho. Served one tour in Afghanistan before being discharged due to an injury resulting in the amputation of his left leg.

She scrolled down to the contact information.

Cellphone: (xxx)xxx-xxxx

Bingo.

Daisy: Hi, it’s Daisy Johnson, your soulmate? I was wondering if we could get that coffee?

She was surprised by how quickly he responded.

Daniel: I’d love to!

Daniel: btw how did you get my number?

Daisy: It’s a bit of a story, mind if I tell you over that coffee?

Daniel: does 1:00 work? Maybe we could grab a bite to eat while we’re at it?

Daisy smiled before checking the time, 11 o’clock. She had two hours to get ready.

Daisy: 1:00 sounds great. I know a cute place off 12th ave

___

Daniel had no intention of pulling his soulmate from the field, he knew it was where she wanted to be and he’d never dream of taking it from her. However, he’d be damned if he wasn’t out there to watch her back. So, he joined SHIELD not long after they met. Despite his prosthetic, he climbed the ranks relatively quickly though Daisy wasn’t surprised. She had seen his record both in the military and the police force, Daniel Sousa was a damn fine agent.

The two weren’t in any hurry relationship-wise. They had moved in together fairly quickly but even two years later they had yet to get engaged. It was a bit of an anomaly - soulmates were usually hitched within a year of meeting each other but Daisy didn’t really hold much stock in a piece of paper declaring their relationship valid and Daniel decided he really didn’t need that paper either as long as he still had Daisy. Besides, with their separate jobs at SHIELD, they didn’t really have much time to plan engagements or weddings.

In 2014 the pair were recruited to an elite team by Phil Coulson, the man Daisy could’ve sworn had died in her arms, the man the Avengers were told had died. She had shaken her head at Fury when she found out. “You manipulative son of a bitch,” she had said though she had meant it fondly. Who knows what would’ve happened when the Chitauri invaded if he hadn’t done what he had.

Daisy and Daniel joined scientist duo and soulmates Jemma Simmons and Leopold Fitz as well as Coulson’s soulmate Melinda May on the Bus, a giant plane Fury had given Coulson as reparations for his death. The team had its bumps in its initial missions but they quickly became a tightly knit family that only grew when Coulson took over as Director of SHIELD after the Hydra takeover.

When Daniel finally proposed Jemma had been her maid of honor and Bobbi and Elena had been her bridesmaids. Likewise, Fitz had been Daniel’s best man and Mack and Hunter had filled out the rest of the groomsmen roles. It had been a small but beautiful wedding, Daisy’s mom had allowed them to have the ceremony at Afterlife and Coulson and May had been their officiants.

Daisy had cursed fate when they met, but looking back she realized it was all worth it for this.

___

a/n: I had no idea how to end this. Also, I have no clue where the 99th precinct operates in NYC (if it even exists) I just wanted to make a Brooklyn 99 reference. Though I’m realizing belatedly that B99 takes place in Brooklyn and probably doesn’t operate in manhattan but oh well.

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tales-of-spring · 4 years ago

Text

morning siren | Chapter 2: The Baker

Pairing / Ship: Steve Rogers x neutral reader

Featuring: Steve Rogers, mentions of Sam, Bucky and Tony

Words: 2349

Category: Writing Challenge, Fic, Vanilla, Soft Fluff

Warning: Steve who is completely smitten and shy, baker!reader, compliments, light flirting, first time meeting, Steve’s POV

Summary: While on trip in a new city, Steve visits a bakery and is startled when he meets the baker working behind the counter.

Author’s Note: Part two for my entry for @finleyjayne‘s Rainbow Writing Challenge! I chose the prompt ‘’Apples and Oranges’’ paired with Steve Rogers, enjoy! Part three will follow soon, so keep your eyes peeled!

Steve’s heart was racing in his chest as he stepped outside of the bakery. He breathed the cold morning air deeply in through his nose in an attempt to calm himself down. This has never happened to him, not like this, not since..

He breathed out through his mouth and looked around him, glancing into the shop window to find that you had already disappeared back into the kitchen. He blinked for a moment, not knowing what to do. You really got him good, but alas, he managed to snap out of the trance and return to what he was gonna do. He climbed on top of his motorcycle, but couldn’t help himself to wait till he was somewhere else to eat the cookies he bought. He opened the paper wrapping and grabbed one of the cookies, biting slowly into the baked sweet..

Earlier that morning..

It was five am, Steve’s usual time of getting up. It was a matter of routine, and he did it ever since he joined the Avengers. And even though he was on a relaxation trip, he had no intention of shedding the routine that worked so easily for him. To be quite frank, sometimes Steve’s routine was the only thing keeping him sane. It reminded him of his..past days, in the war. It comforted him greatly and so every morning he got out of bed, put on his work out clothes, and did his exercises. Just because he’s a Super Soldier doesn’t mean he shouldn’t keep up his condition, or stop combat training. He was made into a sharp blade and it was his job to keep it that way. He was sad however, that he couldn’t beat Sam or Bucky in his laps, or on the mat, or in weightlifting. Steve figured that sometimes being alone creates more focus, and he went on his way.

He’s been to this city a few times so he knew a decent route to take, it didn’t compare to the one he takes in New York though. Steve liked a good scenery whenever he was jogging, and there was nothing better then NYC. This was not too shabby though. The traffic was unusually quiet and peaceful; only some buses, bikers, people walking on the sidewalk here and there. It was nothing compared to the bubbly booming streets of his home city, he liked this though. He even passed a a few young people jogging, all with headphones in of course. Steve appreciated that the youth were doing something useful, but why block out nature’s music with whatever next hip-hop, rap, dubstep song was on the number one chart’s this time? Steve liked natural ambience; people talking, vehicles driving, animals in the water, tree branches rustling.

When Steve was back at his temporary home - a vacation house owned by Tony - he had already broke out a sweat, his heart was racing and he was simply dying for a hot shower and breakfast. Steve undressed and put the temperature of the shower on hot, and stepped in. This is the second place on earth where Steven Rogers could ‘’relax’’; the hot shower. He could wash all the worries, all the responsibilities, all the stress, all the pain, right off of him. He sighed out deeply as he washed his body with his usual shampoo. He had already shaved so once he stepped out of the shower dressed for the day, he made a straight B-line towards the kitchen.

Steve decided on a light breakfast this morning, he had planned to go into the city and do some sightseeing, some shopping and he didn’t want to skip any chances of tasting the city’s cuisine. Some pancakes with cereal and fruit would suffice. The sun was already out shining brightly and it made his light toned blue blouse look more navy colored.

Chewing away the pancakes he made, Steve checked if the team had left him any messages or updates, but nothing, his inbox was empty. He sighed in a slightly disappointing manner. He didn’t mind the whole relaxing-doing nothing-taking-your-time thing - which was the idea of his team - but there was something about sitting still for too long that made him a bit restless. He puffed out his cheeks and finished the rest of breakfast.

The leather jacket hanging near the door was once of the few things that reminded him of his past, so it was no surprise that Steve brought it with him. He took a bag with him in case he decided to buy some things, you never know what you’ll see once you step foot in an American shopping centre. With the bag in hand, the jacket hugging his broad figure and the keys of his motor cycle pocketed, he left.

Steve was so used to the busy atmosphere of New York that once he stepped outside, he froze out of surprise at the sight of the streets; they were still nearly empty. What time was it? Around 9:30 he believed. By then, his home city would’ve been crawling with cars, taxis, people. Here just a few slow driving cars passed by. Steve saw a total of three buses pass in the last thirty minutes and the most action he saw on the street was a pigeon flying over an old lady and almost hitting her with his poo. He blinked, this city couldn’t be anymore unusual. He shook the odd feeling off of him and hopped onto the motor cycle. The engine roared which secretly made him smirk in excitement like a little boy in a candy store.

For some reason, Steve was craving something sweet. He’d get those urges sometimes to indulge in unhealthy foods. Today it was sweets, but not like licorice or candy. No, something else was needed to satisfy Steve’s yearning for sugar. He looked around, hoping to find something, and out of the corner of his eye he spotted a white-painted window frame. His head turned, his eyes now resting on a corner building that stood out due to it being completely white and made of brick. It was a cute sight, the building had flowers growing near the windows and on the walls. Dainty tables and chairs were spread in front of it. A sign hung above the door, and in big and swishy letters colored with pale yellow and soft pink, it read; ‘’The Mad Batter’’

He chuckled at the reference to Alice in Wonderland. Finally, a reference he did get. He squinted his eyes in doubt, should he go there? So far it was the only place to even have the lights on. Everything else usually opened around elven, which he learned from a kind woman who was walking down the street and saw Steve’s confusion. He road up to the building and parked his motorcycle besides the empty sidewalk.

He pushed the door open gently, which made a little bell ring above of him. He proceeded to step in and look around. From somewhere in the back, perhaps a kitchen, came a rather pleasant sound. Or..no wait, not a sound, no. Steve frowned in focus and tried to listen more clearly. It was someone singing, singing along with the radio perhaps. He knew this song..

’Whisper in my ear, baby..’’

It was from Paul Anka, Steve thought to himself. It was released after he got stuck in the ice, sure, but he discovered it when he resurfaced and went to research all of the music that was released from up to that point, particularly in the jazz genre. He licked his lips, whoever was singing along had some serious talent. He closed his eyes for a quick, sneaky moment, and imagined himself slow dancing to this song.

’Words I want to hear..’’

If only he could see who was singing it. Were they the only employee around? Steve snapped out of his trance and looked around him. If it wasn’t for the emptiness of the store, Steve would’ve been very embarrassed, the building was completely empty except for the two of you.

’Tell me, tell me that you love me too..’’

God, Steve was quite smitten with that voice. He looked around, stood on his toes to see if he could capture a quick peek through the circular plastic window in the door that separated him and this mystery siren. He bit his lip and doubted if he should ring a bell, or knock on the counter. He wanted- no, needed to see you, but he didn't want the singing to end.

Steve Rogers got what he wanted though. The door opened and in walked the baker that serenaded him without them knowing it. Everything for Steve went in slow motion the second that door opened. He stared at bakers face, their hair, their eyes. Oh god, they were one of the cute ones. The baker had some flower on their face, their hair a little messy but non unprofessional. The sun shined perfectly through the windows and reflected onto the counter, making the baker bask in a glorious morning glow. Steve’s breathing slowed down and all he could do was take in the sight before him.

‘’I-I’m very sorry sir, usually no one comes in until 11 and I was so caught up in my routine that I-..’’ Steve had unnoticeably snapped out of the bakers spell and realized that they were apologizing. For what could such a beautiful being apologize for, Steve wondered. He crookedly smiled at the baker trying to somewhat lighten the situation. ‘’It’s okay, really. It happens to the best of us, it’s really no problem.’’ Steve had shook his head and waved off the apology, but not in a mean way. Silence ensued as the baker nodded apologetically towards him. Steve felt himself staring at them again. He felt them staring at him too. He carefully examined the baker’s presence, which was nothing but pleasurable and enjoyable to be around. The silence, the staring, it stayed like that for a little while. Both pair of cheeks grew red but eye contact remained.

‘’Uh- uhm, can I- can I get you anything?’’ The baker awkwardly stumbled on his words, probably due to nerves Steve figured, which only added to how much he had already taken an interest in this person. Steve - as even awkwardly as the baker - fiddled his wallet out of his pocket and threw a quick glance on the glass counter an the chalkboard behind the baker. ‘’Uhm, yeah, what’s your uh, your specialty?’’ Steve could see the baker had to think for a second. He almost admitted it was because of, well, him, but he didn’t want to assume anything. Secretly though, Steve knew the baker was in the same boat as he was. The baker walked over to the edge of the counter and explained that yesterday’s specialty - a French orange tart with whipped cream - was still available, and that today’s specialty, an apple pie, was being made currently. Oof, apple pie sounded very attractive to him right now, but it would be a ready later. Of course he could just wait here, but that just seemed awkward.

Steve licked his lips in anticipation to make a decision, his eye jumped across the different rows of baked goods and sweets. ‘’I can also- uhm, put down your name and reserve a piece of apple pie for you if you’d like.’’ A warm feeling was triggered in the middle of Steve chest and he felt his eyebrows raise in surprise. He could come back here a second time, talk to the baker again, maybe even dare we say... make a move?

‘’Uh- yes. Yeah, that would be great, thanks.’’ But that didn't still his current hunger though, he needed something small to eat enough space will be left for the pie. His orbs flew over the rows again and they landed on a single row of cookies. Bingo. ‘’In the mean time I think I’ll just get two of those..chocolate chip cookies, please.’’ The baker began wrapping them up, opening the counter and grabbing a notepad in lighting speed. He laid the cookies onto the counter, Steve grabbed a five dollar bill, already knowing it’ll be too much but the baker could keep the change. They blushed at the small sentiment and put the bill into the register, closing it after.

Steve grabbed onto the cookies and turned around, making way for the door but he was cut off by the baker’s voice. ‘’Wait, sir!’’ Did he forgot to give through his name? Oh god, way to make an impression, Rogers. Steve turned to the baker halfway. ‘’I need your name for the- the apple pie.’’ He chuckled and walked back to the counter, to them. His eyes immediately went back to theirs, a somewhat equally romantic and amazed look plastered on his face. ‘’Of course, my apologies, it’s uh..’’ Steve ran his tongue across his lips, the nerves were getting to him. ‘’My name’s Steve. Steve Rogers.’’ He saw how the baker wrote down his name and tore the piece off the notepad. Maybe later today they could exchange phone numbers. Just maybe. ‘’I’ll come back later today for the piece, okay?’’ He ensured the baker and they nodded. Steve nodded back and finally made his way to the door once again.

But it wasn’t time just yet. God, could the tension get any higher? ‘’Steve.’’ The baker called out. He turned his body halfway, his head turned so he looked over his shoulders to them. ‘’I’m Y/N.’’ Steve felt himself smile at hearing their name. ‘’Gotcha, so you’re not just a pretty face?’’ He said the words before he even knew what he was saying, and he damned himself from saying it. Was it too straightforward? Too extra? He hoped he didn’t ruin it. Y/N’s reaction was priceless though. A red glow on their cheeks accompanied by a shy look to the ground. Steve smiled and quickly slipped out of the shop, already waiting impatiently for later today..

#Steve Rogers x reader #Steve Rogers x neutral reader #Steve Rogers x neutral!reader #Steve Rogers fluff #marvel universe #marvel fluff #marvel #steve rogers #avengers fluff #avengers #RainbowWritingChallenge

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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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