“Are you sure you’ll be okay? I know it’s a lot. We can have someone watch Morgan. I’m sure Pepper can get Rhodey to come out here,” Tony Stark asked. The now married couple had been called upon to a very last minute, and late night, work event for their company, Stark Industries.
You see, Harley Keener had a very challenging task to accomplish. He had to babysit Tony and Pepper Stark’s daughter, Morgan Stark. He’d babysat Morgan for the Stark’s numerous times, typically in situations such as when their son, Peter Stark, who just so happened to be Harley’s boyfriend, had an academic decathlon tournament and Tony and Pepper had an all day business convention for Stark Industries.
This didn’t upset Harley, not in the slightest. That particular day, Peter had come home by about 8:00 PM, only half an hour before Harley was told to put Morgan to bed. Once the four-year-old was fast asleep in her Princess Ariel bed, Peter and Harley took the opportunity to watch Peter’s favorite Star Wars movie, The Empire Strikes Back. After Peter ranted about the tournament for a whopping fifteen minutes, of course. Uninterrupted, he might add. Harley didn’t mind that either.
Harley does mind, however, when his boyfriend would come wandering into the southern teen’s apartment through his bedroom window, covered in gaping wounds and bruises. He doesn’t mind taking care of his boyfriend and or dressing his wounds for him, not at all. He minds that people in New York City are so cruel to hurt the man that he loves like this.
This was, unfortunately, a common occurrence, since Peter had become Spider-Man. Harley had met Peter years before he was bitten by a radioactive spider. The two had met after Tony flew Harley out to California, where the Stark’s lived at the time, before Pepper became pregnant with Morgan, and the family moved back to New York.
However, Peter hadn’t told Harley that he was, in fact, the infamous vigilante until a few days after they had begun dating. Which, of course, Peter’s role as Spider-Man had everything to do with the reason that this job was particularly challenging. Peter was at home, despite the fact that he was supposed to be at an academic decathlon tournament.
So, Harley was going to end up babysitting Morgan anyways, but Tony and Pepper had forced their teenager to stay home, much to Peter's dismay. Why? He had gotten the stomach flu.
With Peter’s enhanced healing, one of the powers that the bite gave him (along with being able to crawl up walls, which still gave Harley a pseudo- heart attack every time he saw it), it made his illnesses worse. Wounds, bruises, and things of that nature could heal in a matter of hours, or days in the most extreme cases. However, if Peter got even as much as the common-cold, the symptoms would be debilitating for at least a week.
So, with Peter out of commission, Harley was left to watch the four-year-old girl. And take care of his, allegedly delirious, boyfriend, who had been vomiting all day.
He can handle this.
“Yeah, Tony, I swear, I’m good. I only have to babysit Morgan for, what, two hours? Before I have to put her to bed. Then I can give Pete my full attention,” Harley insisted.
He’d known Tony since he was eleven, almost six years now. Harley knew that Tony trusted Harley, both with his son and his daughter, and that he was just trying to be considerate of Harley’s time and energy.
“Alright, if you’re sure. Thanks, kid. We really appreciate it,” Tony replied with a demeanor that was nothing but fatherly.
“Call us if you need anything, alright sweetheart? We’ll be back by morning, sometime. Whenever Tony has the guts to step out,” Pepper added, her signature, kind smile spreading across her lips.
“I will, Pepper. Promise. You can count on me. Now, go, go. I got this,” Harley ushered the two out of the door, as they were already thirty minutes behind schedule.
When Morgan heard the front door of the secluded lake cabin shut, she jumped up off of the living room couch and ran to cling onto Harley’s left leg.
“Harley! Will you play with my dolls with me, please? Petey’s been sick. Mommy and Daddy play with me, but Petey’s better. Since you date him, I think you might be good, too,” Morgan says, uncontrollably giggling. Harley smiled fondly, prying the little girl off of his leg and playfully throwing her over his shoulder.
“Oh, yeah? I think we can do that. Speaking of Petey, how about you go get your dolls from your room, then come back here, while I go check on him?” Harley suggested, gently setting her down on the mahogany, hardwood floor.
“Okay! Don’t take too long!” Morgan ordered, climbing up the stairs on all fours to her room upstairs. Harley chuckled, walking under the levitating staircase towards the hallway where Peter’s bedroom was.
Harley knocked on his boyfriend's bedroom door quietly and tentatively, as to not aggravate Peter’s heightened senses. When Peter got sick, a side effect (one that broke Harley’s heart) was his senses would go into overdrive to protect himself from danger, since illness messed with his spider-senses.
“Come in,” a congested Peter called out quietly into the dimly lit void that was his bedroom. Harley opened the door quietly, and shut it just as softly behind him. He walked over to Peter’s bed, to find his boyfriend engulfed in his soft, dark grey duvet, surrounded by an orange haze while the setting sun was projected into his room via his bedroom window.
Peter was clearly half asleep, lying on his side, his face facing the wall and his back to Harley, whilst wearing a navy blue ‘Midtown School of Science and Technology’ hooded sweater, the hood covering up his sickly pale complexion. Harley noticed that the hoodie was slightly large on him, and upon taking a closer look, he also recognized the golden-yellow letters, spelling ‘Keener’, that were spread across his boyfriend’s shoulders.
“Hey, darlin’,” Harley whispered, ever so softly, as he took a tentative seat next to his boyfriend.
“Mm, hey, Harls,” Peter replied in a mumble, instinctively curling into his boyfriend's side, his head resting in Harley’s lap.
Harley removed Peter’s soft, fuzzy hood, well, his hood, from his head to reveal Peter’s mop of soft, chocolate curls. Harley carded his hand through his boyfriend’s hair, lightly scratching at his scalp as he did so. Unlike the rest of the cabin, which smelled of pine and vanilla, Peter’s room smelt like lavender, which wasn’t usual. It was then that Harley noticed an essential oils diffuser running in the corner of the room.
“How’re you feelin’? Any better?” Harley asked softly, craning his neck down to peek at his boyfriend’s face. Peter blinked and shrugged.
“Guess so. Jus’ don’ feel good,” Peter slurred, nuzzling as far as he could into Harley’s warmth.
“Good that you’re gettin’ better, baby. Do you need anything? Soup? Tea? More water? A cold washcloth?” Harley asked in a whisper as he continued to card his hand through his boyfriend’s slightly sweaty curls.
“More wa’er. I’m kinda… yeah. More wa’er,” Peter slurred once again.
“Okay, love. I’ll get that for you. I love you,” Harley whispered before he kissed the top of Peter’s head and carefully stepped out of bed. Harley grabbed Peter’s metal, red water bottle off of his bedside table.
“Love you,” Peter mumbled, squinting as he watched his boyfriend pick up his water bottle and walk across the room. Harley opened the door and quickly closed it, just as quietly as he had opened it.
Once Harley had stepped out of the hallway, he found Morgan setting up her dolls and, in Harley’s opinion, her abnormally large doll house. How she had managed to get it down the stairs, Harley didn’t know.
Harley filled the bottle about a quarter of the way with ice, then opened the fridge, searching for the filtered water pitcher. Once he found it, he poured the water in and found a lemon-lime Liquid IV packet to pour in as well.
“Harley! Come play! I’m almost done getting ready,” Morgan demanded, standing up and crossing her arms over her chest, an angry, yet non-intimidating and adorable, expression on her face.
Harley screwed the lid into place, the water bottle making a sloshing sound as shook it with both hands to mix it together. Once he was done walked over to the living room and crouched down next to Morgan.
“I’m gonna go give this to Pete and then I’ll be right back to play with you,” Harley said, ruffling the four-year-old’s thin, dark brown, wispy hair.
“Wait! Let me bring it to him! Pleaseee!” Morgan begged. Harley, on one hand, wanted to see his boyfriend and hold him close, even if only for a few minutes. However, on the other hand, Harley did not have the energy to argue with Morgan Stark over a water bottle, which he was sure Peter could understand.
“Alright, just don’t drink out of it and don’t stay in there for too long either, okay? You’ll get sick,” Harley agreed, handing the water bottle to Morgan.
“Also, make sure you’re quiet, okay? Quiet steps, quiet hands, and quiet talkin’. He has a bad headache, and if you’re not quiet, you’ll make it worse,” Harley added.
Morgan nodded feverishly, padding her little feet quietly down the hallway towards Peter’s room. She twisted the silver, circular door knob and opened the door quietly. She poked her head in through the gap in the door, discovering that Peter was not in his bed.
“FRIDAY? Where’s Petey?” Morgan asked the ceiling AI in a comical, hushed whisper.
“Your brother is in his bathroom, Morgan,” FRIDAY replied so quietly that Morgan barely heard her response. Morgan tiptoed into the room, shutting the door quietly behind her. She knocked lightly, however not exactly quietly, on Peter’s bathroom door.
Before she got a response, she entered, Peter’s red water bottle still being held upright by her torso and the crook of her right arm. She found Peter hunched over the toilet, a sound she hadn't ever heard before filling the room. To Morgan’s young mind, it sounded like Peter was trying to cough and scream at the same time. Once she heard the sound of moving water, however, she could only come up with one solution.
She quietly padded out of her brother’s bathroom, shutting the door quickly. Harley said she couldn’t stay too long! She left his bedroom, quietly opening the door and shutting it behind her, although not as quietly as she had opened it. She happily skipped back out to where Harley had been sitting criss-crossed on the floor, scrolling through his phone, water bottle still in hand.
“Harley! I’m ready to play now!” Morgan cheered, jumping in the air and landing on her butt, then haphazardly setting the bottle down beside her.
Harley set his phone down, looked at Morgan, then looked at Peter’s water bottle beside her. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion before speaking.
“Why do you still have that, Mo? Did he not want it?” Harley asked. Of course, Morgan wouldn’t argue if Peter didn’t want it, she wouldn’t know to tell him that he needed to drink it. Harley would just have to go back in and tell Peter that he had to drink it-
“Oh, I didn’t give it to him ‘cause he already drank water,” Morgan interrupted Harley’s train of thought. Without a care in the world, the young girl picked up one of her dolls, particularly a doll with green skin and curly pink hair that was missing a pair of pants.
“Wait, what? What water did he have? Did he have another water bottle?” Harley asked. Even if Peter did have another water bottle, he would still make Peter trade it for the Liquid IV, since it would help him get better-
“No, I went to give it to him, and he was in the bathroom. He was drinking the toilet water, which is gross, but, mommy told me that all boys are gross,” Morgan explained.
Of course, to the four-year-old, even if she found it gross, she found that Peter drinking toilet water to be entirely reasonable. Subsequently, Harley knew that his boyfriend was not, in fact, drinking toilet water, and that he was most likely vomiting.
“Stay here, Mo. Play for a few minutes. I’ll be right back,” Harley picked up Peter’s water bottle and stood up, “I’ve gotta go give this to Petey.”
Harley quietly, yet quickly, walked down the hallway, shifting all of his weight to his toes as to not make too much noise. He found himself in Peter’s bedroom, entering quietly and finding his boyfriend hunched over the toilet, actively throwing up. He set the water bottle on Peter’s bathroom counter and crouched down next to his boyfriend, rubbing his left hand up and down Peter’s back while he used his right hand to hold Peter’s right hand.
“You’re alright, darlin’. Squeeze my hand if it hurts. I’ve gotcha, you’re safe with me,” Harley whispered, quiet enough to not aggravate Peter’s senses, but loud enough so his boyfriend could hear him over his own retching.
Peter took Harley’s offer very seriously, squeezing Harley’s hand so hard that with Peter’s super-strength, Harley could’ve sworn his bones shifted. However, Harley could care less. As long as his boyfriend felt safe and taken care of, he didn’t care what it took.
“Harls… I don’ like this. It hur’s,” Peter slurred, breathing heavily, his wide, dark brown, doe-like eyes tightly in pain.
“I know, I know, darlin’. I’m sorry. I’m right here for you,” Harley replied, shifting closer to Peter.
Peter’s body was suddenly racked with chills as he began retching once again. He vomited soon after, gripping Harley’s hand as he did so. Harley squeezed Peter’s hand reassuringly, simultaneously rubbing his back with small circles. A few moments later, Peter had been breathing heavily without vomiting or even retching. Peter sighed, falling back into Harley’s chest, far too exhausted to hold himself up any longer.
Harley grunted out of surprise before he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend protectively. Even though there was no apparent danger, Harley, instinctively, wanted to make Peter feel safe, even if it was from his own vomit.
“Wanna head back to bed, sweetheart? I think you’re all empty,” Harley suggested quietly, caressing his boyfriend's scalp gently, trying to provide him with as much comfort as he could possibly conjure.
“Mm, yeah,” Peter replied hoarsely. He winced at the sound of his own voice. He twisted his body around, burying his head in the crook of Harley’s neck. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Peter was exhausted. He finally relaxed. Peter trusted Harley implicitly, enough to melt away and let the other teen make all of the decisions.
“Don’t try talkin’ to much, it sounds like it hurts. C’mon, baby. I’ll help you brush your teeth real quick and then I’ll get you back in bed,” Harley whispered lovingly, picking up his boyfriend and setting him gently on the bathroom counter.
Harley didn’t let go of Peter, however, knowing that he wasn’t able to hold himself up. Harley sifted through the top drawer of Peter’s bathroom, searching for a toothbrush (that he would most definitely be throwing out directly afterwards).
“Can you open your mouth, darlin’? So I can brush your teeth,” Harley spoke tentatively, tucking one of Peter’s lower laid curls behind his ear.
Harley’s voice was soft, caring. It made Peter feel safer than he ever had before, at least he’s pretty sure. As the sun came closer and closer to setting under the horizon, a dark orange glow filled the room, coming through the bathroom’s skylight. Harley used his right arm to stabilize Peter, his right hand cradling his boyfriend’s head while he brushed Peter’s teeth with the other. The two teens were practically in the spotlight, surrounded by an ever deepening orange haze as the sun set.
“All done, baby. Can you spit the toothpaste out in the sink for me?” Harley coaxed, placing his left hand on Peter’s shoulder and leaning over to place a soft kiss on his forehead. Peter nodded, leaning to the left and turning his head in the same direction to spit in the sink. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, only for Harley to wipe it off with a wet paper towel, and do the same for his mouth.
“Alright, c’mere,” Harley began to pick Peter up.
Peter blinked hazily, wrapping his arms around Harley’s neck and lying his head on Harley’s left shoulder. Harley, with no help from Peter, wrapped Peter’s legs around his waist. Harley grabbed Peter’s water bottle, putting the handle on his middle finger before placing his hands under Peter’s thighs. He carefully brought Peter to bed and set him down, but Peter did not let go of Harley’s neck. Harley smiled fondly, setting Peter’s water bottle down on his bedside table before lying down next to his boyfriend. It was only then Peter let go of Harley, just to snuggle as close as Harley deemed possible to his chest.
“Are you sleepy, darlin’?” Harley asked, taking Peter into his arms and placing a kiss on top of his head.
Peter sighed before speaking, “mm, yeah. I’m tired.”
“Try and go to sleep. I’ll be back in here the second after I’m done watchin’ Morgan, I promise,” Harley promised ever so softly. Peter nodded.
“‘Kay. Thank you,” Peter whispered, kissing Harley on the cheek before lying his head back on his boyfriend’s shoulder.
“For what, Pete?” Harley asked, turning his body to face Peter, cupping his boyfriend’s face in his hands, caressing his thumb under Peter’s eye.
“Takin’ care of me. You don’ have to. ’m so gross,” Peter slurred, melting into Harley’s touch. Harely made sure Peter was looking at him, breathing in deeply before speaking.
“Don’t say that. You’re not gross for needin’ help. You deserve to be taken care of. You’re worthy of being cared for. Nothin’, and I mean nothin’, will ever change that, alright? I love you, Peter. Always,” Harley whispered definitively.
Peter’s eyes slowly filled with tears. Once he blinked, they began flowing down his cheeks, which were, thankfully, regaining their rosy pink color. Harley watched as one of Peter’s tears left a translucent streak on his cheek. He quickly, yet gently, wiped it away, bringing Peter’s head forward to kiss his temple.
“I love you,” Peter eventually whispered, taking Harley’s hand and interlocking his boyfriend’s fingers with his own before kissing the back of Harley’s hand.
“So much, sweetheart,” Peter whispered again.
“I love you more,” Harley whispered, kissing Peter on the forehead again. The sun had set and the sky was beginning to coat itself in a shimmering blanket of stars. Harley’s lips turned upwards into a smile.
“Sleep well, love. I’ll be back before you know it,” Harley whispered before sneakily and quietly leaving the sleepy boy and shutting the door softly behind him. He walked into the living room, finding Morgan playing with dolls.
“You were gone for… forever! You owe me a lot of playtime now!” Morgan said loudly, both excitement and child-like frustration lacing her tone.
“I guess you’re right, Mo. I do owe you a lot of playtime. But, I wasn’t gone for that long,” Harley argued.
Morgan furrowed her eyebrows in astounding disagreement, a look her father was very familiar with. She formed her hands into fists and placed them on her hips, staring up at Harley.
“FRIDAY? How long was Harley in Petey’s room?” Morgan asked the AI. She craned her neck upwards to look at the ceiling, something that Harley struggled to wrap his head around.
He’d grown up dirt poor, and without a father figure, before meeting Tony. Once Harley had helped Tony defeat Extremis, Tony had promised Harley that once his family moved back to New York, he would make sure that he was able to find his family a nice apartment in New York. Harley, his sister, Abby, and Harley’s mother had all taken the offer gratefully and moved into the apartment about four years ago. He was glad that Morgan and Peter had grown up in a stable environment with two parents that loved them.
“Harley was in your brother’s room for fifteen minutes, Morgan. And for three minutes before that,” FRIDAY replied factually.
“What’s fifteen plus three?” Morgan asked.
“Eighteen,” Harley and FRIDAY replied at the same time. Morgan pressed her eyebrows together, as if she was trying to calculate something. She eventually took her hands off of her hips and began counting on her fingers. She put up each finger one by one, eventually stopping once she’d gotten to ten.
“I only know how to count to ten, so that’s how long you have to play with me. I’ll make FRIDAY count. FRIDAY! Tell me when ten minutes are over please!” Morgan called out.
“Of course, Morgan,” FRIDAY replied.
Harley and Morgan played with Morgan’s dolls for ten minutes. During that time, Morgan had created a narrative with a blue-skinned doll with super long purple hair and a pink doll with blonde hair that had very clearly been chopped off. The blue doll was a sea-monster and the pink doll was a fairy. Harley was having a hard time understanding what was going on with the dynamic of the fairy and the sea monster, but it didn’t seem to matter once Morgan’s timer had gone off.
“Ugh. It’s okay, we can play again soon. Don't forget the story, okay?” Morgan said, borderline scolding Harley for a potential crime that, unbeknownst to her, he had already committed.
“I won’t forget it, Mo. It’s bedtime now, though. It’s 8:30,” Harley announced, taking Morgan’s hand and leading her upstairs to her bedroom. He opened her bedroom door and asked Friday to turn on her lamp.
Once the lamp was on, Harley helped her change into her pajamas, since that was something she still struggled with. When he picked her up, he held her up by her torso and her legs, wrapping his arms firmly around her, before spinning around in a circle and making airplane noises.
“Bbbbrrrrr, Morgan comes in for the landin’! Boom!” Harley brought her to about eight inches above her bed and dropped her on it.
Morgan burst out in a fit of giggles before she reached over to her bedside table and picked up a book titled ‘Goodnight Moon’.
“Mommy reads this to me before bed,” Morgan informed Harley, despite the fact that he, too, had read the book to her at least three times.
Morgan handed Harley the book after he sat down on the edge of Morgan’s Princess Ariel bed. He knew that he’d read the same book to Abby when she was little. He looked at the book and then back at Morgan. Harley smiled before positioning himself to sit next to Morgan. The little girl yawned and then leaned up against Harley’s arm.
“I’ll read it, Mo. I always will,” Harley opened the book, laying it down in between his and Morgan’s laps so that they could both see it well.
“In the great green room, there was a telephone. And a red balloon, and a picture of the cow jumpin’ over the moon and there were three little bears sittin’ on chairs…”
Once Harley had finished the story, he discovered that Morgan was fast asleep and leaned up against his arm. Harley smiled and shut the book lightly before setting it aside on Morgan’s bedside table. He gently laid Morgan down on the bed, careful not to wake her. He then turned off Morgan’s lamp and turned on her Sebastian night light. He walked back over to Morgan, pushing her hair back before placing a kiss on her forehead.
“I love you 3000,” he whispered. She smiled. Harley chuckled quietly. He knew that this was Morgan’s routine. Even though Morgan wasn’t really sleeping, she would be genuinely asleep within the next twenty minutes or so. Harley quietly padded down the stairs, immediately headed for Peter’s room.
He knocked on the door lightly, waiting for a response. When he didn’t get one after a couple of moments, he opened the door softly and stuck his head in the room. He could see his boyfriend’s peaceful silhouette in the dark room. Harley left the door open a crack, just in case Morgan needed something.
“FRIDAY, can you make sure all the doors that lead outside and all of the windows are locked, please?” Harley asked quietly and politely.
“Certainly, Harley. All of the entry point doors and windows are now locked,” FRIDAY confirmed.
“Thanks, FRI,” Harley replied in a hushed whisper.
Harley stepped further into the room and sifted through his boyfriend’s closet, finding a pair of pajama pants and a tee shirt. The tee shirt was definitely Peter’s, but the pajama pants might’ve been Harley’s. Once he changed, the iridescent glow of the moonlight illuminated the room's darkest shadows. Including Peter. Harley smiled, forever grateful that Morgan only knew how to count to ten, so that he could finally be with his boyfriend uninterrupted.
Harley carefully got into bed and pulled the dark grey duvet over himself. The movement caused Peter to stir and eventually wake up. Peter opened his dark brown eyes and began to squint. Peter, in a spider-like fashion, did not have fantastic vision in the dark. Harley chuckled.
“You’re cute, darlin’. C’mere,” Harley spoke softly as he gently positioned Peter to lay on his chest.
Peter nuzzled into Harley’s warmth, his spider-like tendencies making him crave the heat when the room cooled down. Peter closed his eyes, trusting his boyfriend to keep him safe and warm.
“Hey,” Peter whispered as he wrapped his arms around Harley’s torso.
“Hi,” Harley giggled quietly, running his hand up and down Peter’s back.
“Can you kiss me?” Peter asked quietly. Harley chuckled.
“You don’t even have to ask, darlin’,” Harley replied before he kissed Peter’s nose tenderly. Peter smiled, giggled, and then tapped his lips with his pointer finger, signaling that he wanted Harley to kiss them. Harley smiled as well, and shook his head fondly.
“I will, baby. Just drink some of your water first, okay? It has Liquid IV in it to get you feelin’ better,” Harley said, reaching over to grab the water bottle from his bedside table. Peter shook his head.
“I wan’ a kiss firs’,” Peter mumbled, pushing the water bottle away. Harley sighed, sat up, and drug Peter with him, forcing his boyfriend to sit up.
“You can have a kiss, Pete. Just drink some water first,” Harley whispered, unscrewing the water bottle’s lid and putting it up to Peter’s lips.
Harley used his left hand to cup Peter’s chin and held the water bottle in his right hand. He gently tipped Peter’s head back and pressed the opening of the bottle to his lips, letting the cold liquid flow through so Peter could drink it. Peter kept his eyes closed, likely due to his own exhaustion, and swallowed some of the water. Harley took the water bottle away from Peter and then screwed it shut.
Peter leaned into Harley’s side, nuzzling his head into the crook of Harley’s neck. The luminous glow of the moon illuminated Peter’s bedroom, encasing both Peter and Harley in an aura of tranquility, warmth, safety, and love. Harley smiled, gently turning his boyfriend to face him. He leaned forward, kissing Peter gently and lovingly on the lips. Peter smiled, lying down and resting his head on his boyfriend’s lap.
“Thank you. Are you feelin’ any better?” Harley whispered, lightly scratching Peter’s scalp.
“Mm, a lil’. My s’omach hur’s,” Peter slurred, sniffling after he spoke.
“I know, baby. I’m sorry. Do you feel like you have to throw up at all?” Harley spoke quietly, making sure not to aggravate Peter’s heightened senses.
“Not a lot. Jus’ a lil’,” Peter replied, sighing after speaking.
“That’s good, darlin’. How about you try goin’ to sleep, hmm? I’ll be right here, I’m not leavin’,” Harely assured the other teen.
Peter nodded, leaving his eyes closed. Harley repositioned himself, lying down on the New York teen’s bed and repositioning Peter to lie on his chest. About ten minutes had passed, Harley listened as the lake water lapped against the dock and the shore outside of Peter’s window.
“Harls? I can’t sleep,” Peter whispered eventually.
Harley tugged Peter closer, using his right to hold the other boy and using his left hand to trace lines from the bridge of Peter’s nose to his hairline with his pointer and middle fingers.
“I’m right here. I’m not goin’ anywhere,” Harley whispered ever so softly. Harley kissed the crown of Peter’s temple, holding his boyfriend close.
“It’s cause ‘m scared,” Peter whispered, so quietly that Harley barely heard him.
Harley’s eyebrows furrowed in concern, wishing he could hold Peter closer than he already was. However, if Harley pulled Peter any closer to his chest, he was sure that he would squish the poor boy.
“What’re you scared of, love? I’m here, I’ll protect you, I promise. You’re safe with me, always,” Harley promised, holding Peter ever so slightly tighter.
“When ‘m sick, I get nightm’res ‘cause my senses think ‘m in d’nger. Then I get nightm’res,” Peter whispered, lying his head on Harley’s right shoulder and under his chin.
It made sense, really. The reason everyone has to tiptoe around Peter when he gets sick is because his senses get ramped up to the max. However, Harley never took into consideration that it was Peter’s spider senses and not just his five senses that were ramped up. If Peter’s spider senses were ramped up, it was only logical that his neurological sensors would reflect danger in his dreams.
“You’ll be okay. I can’t stop the nightmares from happenin’, but I’ll be here to wake you up from them. I promise,” Harley whispered, placing a kiss on the top of Peter’s head.
“Mk, thanks, Harls. I love you,” Peter mumbled, using the little energy he had left to lean upwards and kiss his boyfriend on the cheek.
Peter felt a sense of somnolence wash over him, his exhaustion finally catching up to him.
Harley took a deep breath and carded his hand through Peter’s hair, pondering about something he can never quite wrap his head around. Peter was one of the nicest, if not the nicest human being on the planet. What had the poor boy done to deserve any of this? Sure, he was Spider-Man, he took most of it on willingly, but Harley felt that maybe the world could be just a little bit kinder to Peter to repay him for his good deeds.
“You don’t have to thank me, baby. I’ll be right here, keepin’ you safe. Always,” Harley whispered, smiling as his boyfriend finally fell asleep. Harley sighed, closing his eyes as well, holding Peter close to keep him safe and warm.
————————
Peter’s breath came in sharp, panicked bursts as he struggled to free himself from his vibranium restraints. He was wearing his red and black Spider-Man suit, suspended in the air by the chains that had captured him, his toes barely touching the ground. His mask had been ripped off hours ago. The air was thick, and the room that Peter was being held in was so cold that the heater his dad had installed in it wasn’t helping to warm him up. Before the bite, he could’ve handled this temperature.
“Hm, d’you think this’ll do it?” A man with a rough, scruffy voice asked. Peter blinked, trying to take in the situation.
“If this doesn’t do it, I don’t know what will. Make sure you tell Toomes what we’re up to,” another man spoke and Peter watched as a door opened and a boy with his hands tied behind his back was thrown in. Peter winced, internally cursing himself as he was unable to do anything. When the boy rolled over, groaning in pain, Peter froze, his breath hitching.
Harley.
“…Peter?” Harley asked drowsily.
“Shit, Harls, I,” Peter coughed, gasping for air, his body doubling over, “how are you here? I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
Harley sighed, rolling over to stare at the ceiling. The ceiling was disgusting, covered in black mold spots where it wasn’t just rotting away.
“Sorry? Sorry? I got kidnapped because of you, Peter! God, I never should’ve gotten into this with you!” Harley yelled, anger more than evident in his voice.
“Harley, please-”
“No! I’m sick of you, Peter! I’m always doin’ all of this shit for you, and it’s never even worth it!”
Before Peter could reply, his mask was ripped off by a man he didn’t recognize. When did he get here? Then, Adrian Toomes entered the room. The Vulture. The villain who’d trapped Peter under a collapsed building. Peter’s breath caught in his throat, helplessly dangling in the air as the chains started tugging him higher and higher into the air, Toomes somehow staying level with him. Why wasn’t any of this making sense?
“Ahhh. Spider-Man. It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Peter? Too bad I have your little boyfriend here, huh? Oh, and believe me, he is not happy with you,” Toomes taunted, roughly grabbing Peter by the chin and forcing their eyes to meet.
“Wake up, sweetheart, you’re alright. I’ve gotcha,” Harley spoke ever so softly, his tone so tender, so caring, it had to be manipulative.
Harley’s voice sounded close, not like it was at all beneath him as he was continuously raised higher and higher into the air.
“No one is coming to save you, Peter. No one loves you, you’re finished,” Toomes spat, scratching Peter across his cheek.
Peter thrashed wildly as he tried to get away from Toomes. He was horrified. He wanted to get out of his restraints so he could save Harley. He was terrified of Toomes, especially after the warehouse incident. But, most of all, Peter was mortified by the thought of losing Harley.
“That’s it, darlin’, you can do it. Just wake up for me,” Harley whispered softly.
Peter’s eyebrows furrowed, partly out of pain and partly out of confusion. Why did Harley sound so close? Why did he sound so tentative?
“You’re dreamin’, baby. I'm right here, wake up, you can do it,” Harley whispered once again.
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With that, Peter shot up in his bed, his breaths panicked and irregular. Harley sat up, too, rubbing his hand up and down Peter’s back rhythmically, to which Peter flinched and backed himself into the corner where his bed’s headboard met the wall. He hadn’t opened his eyes.
“NO! LEAVE ME ALONE! LET HIM GO!” Peter yelled, his screams breaking Harley’s heart, especially because he knew that his own screams only aggravated his spider-senses.
“Pete, it’s me, it’s Harley. You’re safe, I promise. Can you open your eyes for me, baby?” Harley whispered.
Peter shook his head. Harley was tied up on the floor beneath him, he wasn’t going to fall for these tricks. However, Peter found inconsistencies. Why did his clothes seem so loose fitting? He was in his suit, wasn’t he? Why was he able to move his arms? Wasn’t he being hoisted in the air by vibranium chains? Why did Harley sound so kind, so caring? Wasn’t Harley mad at him? Peter was curious, because, of course he was. So, despite every single fiber of his entire being telling him to do the opposite, Peter opened his eyes, looking over his knees.
Harley felt a sense of protectiveness wash over him as he stared tentatively into his boyfriend’s sweet, innocent, chocolate doe eyes. He watched Peter take in his surroundings, anxiety radiating off of his shaking body. Harley wanted nothing more than to scoop Peter into his arms and hide him from the terrors of his own mind, but he didn’t want to scare the poor boy.
“Harls?” Peter asked eventually, looking his boyfriend in the eyes.
“That’s me. What can I do for you right now, love?” Harley asked, positioning himself to sit criss-crossed in front of Peter.
Harley was sure that he’d never been so heartbroken as his boyfriend threw himself into Harley’s arms and broke into a fit of loud, violent sobs. Harley wrapped his right arm around Peter, holding him as close as he could to his chest. He buried his nose into Peter’s shoulder and cradled the back of his head with his left hand.
“I gotcha, I gotcha, darlin’. No one’s comin’ for you. No one will get you while I’m around, baby. I love you so much,” Harley whispered, kissing the side of Peter’s head once he’d finished speaking.
“Harls… they… I’m sorry! They took you and you were so mad, but I couldn’t help! I promise I would have, I promise! I love you and I never want anything to happen to you ever, especially not ‘cause of me!” Peter rambled, suppressing his sobs until he finished speaking.
“Baby, baby. I could never, ever, be mad at you,” Harley whispered ever so gently, leaning back to lovingly wipe the fresh tears off of his boyfriend's face.
“If you’re sure,” Peter whispered in response. Harley chuckled, cupping Peter’s cheeks in his hands.
“I’m sure, darlin’. Now, sleep. You deserve it. I’ll be keepin’ you safe, I promise,” Harley whispered, taking his boyfriend into his arms once again and lying down.
Peter’s sobs had eventually devolved into small cries, his emotional state evening out as time went on. Peter melted into Harley’s touch, trusting his boyfriend implicitly to take care of him and make all of the decisions, just as he had in the bathroom.
“I love you, always, darling,” Peter whispered, kissing his boyfriend’s chest.
Harley chuckled, carding through Peter’s hair with his fingers.
“I love you more, sweetheart,” Harley replied.
With that, both teens fell into a deep, much deserved sleep.
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Tony and Pepper came home late at about 4:00 AM, just before the upstate sun would begin to rise. Tony unlocked the front door with his fingerprint, guiding Pepper inside by placing a hand on her back lovingly. They both kicked off their shoes, far too exhausted to lay them neatly on the shoe rack (which was a mess anyways).
“I’d better go check on the boys. Do you wanna go check on Morgan?” Tony asked, hanging up his coat on the rack before turning around to take Pepper’s coat off for her.
The house was quiet, a sense of summer-like tranquility taking over their home as Tony and Pepper’s shadows basked in the atmosphere, the last of the moonlight dancing around them.
“Yes, I will. I’ll see you in a few, Tony,” Pepper replied, kissing her husband on the cheek before she walked up the floating staircase to her daughter’s room.
Pepper opened the door quietly, finding that Morgan was fast asleep, her mouth hung open and her ‘Goodnight Moon’ book placed neatly on her bedside table. The red aura that illuminated her room, thanks to her Sebastian nightlight, left a comforting glow for the four-year-old.
Pepper walked up to her special, miracle baby girl, placing a kiss on her forehead. She stroked her daughter's hair back, smiling as Morgan unconsciously melted into her mother’s touch. Morgan and Pepper had always had a special bond like that.
Meanwhile, downstairs in Peter’s room, Tony was checking in on his boys. He found them both asleep in Peter’s bed, notably wearing each other's clothing, a perfect combination with Peter’s stomach flu. However, Tony couldn’t help but smile as he looked at his boys, cuddled up together. Tony may be Iron Man, but Harley was the real hero, that’s for sure.
Tony quietly stepped over to Peter’s bed, dimming the moonlit spotlight that had previously been casting over them. He leaned over to Peter, placing the back of his hand on his forehead. After being a dad for sixteen years, he had practically mastered how to pick up a rough temperature just by putting a hand on his kids’ foreheads. From what he could tell, Peter’s temperature was about 100° Fahrenheit, so at least it was getting a little bit better.
He placed a tentative kiss on both Peter and Harley’s heads and quietly left the room, leaving his boys to get the rest that, he could tell, they desperately needed. He shut the door silently behind him and walked up the floating staircase, past Morgan’s room and around the corner to his and Pepper’s bedroom. He opened the door, finding Pepper standing near the edge of her side of the bed, folding laundry.
The room was dimly lit by the soft, golden glow of their identical bedside lamps. Tony smiled at her, shutting the door quietly behind him. He walked over to his side of the bed, standing by the edge of it. Pepper smiled before speaking.
“How’s Peter feeling?” She asked softly as she folded one of Tony’s shirts, placing it in his designated pile on top of their brown duvet.
“He’s not as warm as he was yesterday, his temperature was about a hundred degrees,” Tony replied, scraping half of the unfolded clothes to his side of the bed so he could fold them himself.
“Morgan didn’t seem sick at all, which is good. I don’t know what we’d do if she caught one of Pete’s spider-illnesses,” she sighed, shaking her head at the thought.
“Oh, I have a detailed plan in place if that were to ever happen,” Tony stated as-a-matter-of-factly.
“Oh, good, I was worried,” Pepper replied sarcastically.
“Y’know, you say that now, but when Morgan gets one of Peter’s flus, you can figure it out,” Tony replied, waving his left hand around to emphasize his point as he effortlessly folded one of Morgan’s floral t-shirts with his right.
“Okay, now hold on-” Pepper began before she and Tony heard a loud, rustling noise from Peter’s bedroom, which was directly under theirs.
“So sorry to interrupt, but it seems that both Peter and Harley have both entered Peter’s bathroom. I have also come to understand that Peter is in distress,” FRIDAY informed the exhausted couple.
Tony sighed, walking over to Pepper’s side of the bed and then promptly placing a kiss on her cheek before he left the room. He walked down the hallway, quickly peeking in Morgan’s room. Although his original plan was to b-line for Peter’s bedroom, he quickly walked over to the sleeping four-year old and placed a quick kiss on her forehead. After quietly exiting Morgan’s bedroom and shutting the door behind him, Tony padded his feet down his home’s floating staircase and walked down the hallway to Peter’s room.
He quietly opened the door to his son’s bedroom that had Star Wars posters and memorabilia adequately covering every scalable surface (including his irregularly high ceilings, which freaked Tony out a little bit, considering the only way Peter could reach the ceiling was by climbing on them). He walked over to Peter’s bathroom door, quietly turning the doorknob once he heard the unmistakable sound of his son’s retching. He was met with quite a sight, a clearly exhausted Harley hovering over his poor, shaking boyfriend, who was practically vomiting out his insides.
Peter must have sensed that Tony had entered the bathroom, because he leant back into his boyfriend before turning his head to look at his father, who was currently standing drowsily behind the pair.
“Been throwin’ up all nigh’,” Peter slurred, lazily throwing his arms around Harley’s neck and pressing his closed eyes into Harley’s shoulder.
“I can tell, bud. Let’s get you back to bed, yeah?” Tony suggested, walking closer to Peter and squatting down behind Harley to ruffle his son's hair.
Peter pondered this for a moment. It was an easy decision, really. Of course he wanted to go back to bed. However, he also craved to be cared for. Which he knew that, realistically, his dad would care for him anytime he needed it, but in that moment, he craved the tentative care that he’d received from his boyfriend just hours before.
“Mm, no’ yet. Harls got to brush my teeth first,” Peter slurred. Harley smiled, placing a soft kiss on the top of his boyfriend’s head. He laid his nose in Peter’s hair, trying his best to comfort the poor boy.
“Yeah, sorry, Tony. I’ll have him out in just a minute,” Harley spoke quietly, lifting Peter up and setting him on the counter, yet still holding onto him since Peter didn’t have the energy to hold himself up.
“Don’t you dare apologize for taking care of my son, Keener,” Tony warned, his tone nothing but fatherly, before continuing, “do you want me to stay, Underoos? Or are you okay?”
“‘m okay. I love you, Dad, I m’ssed you,” Peter replied, his eyes remaining closed as he laid his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder.
“I missed you, too, bambino. Sleep well, okay? Get feeling better. I love you,” Tony said, walking over to his son and placing a soft kiss on his temple, squeezing Harley’s shoulder as he quietly left the teen’s bedroom.
“Okay, love. I’ll brush your teeth for you and then we’ll get you in bed,” Harley informed his boyfriend, who only nodded in response.
Harley picked up the same toothbrush he’d used earlier, which he had conveniently forgotten to throw away. Once Harley had finished brushing Peter’s teeth, he looked at the digital clock that rested in the corner of Peter’s bathroom counter. It read 4:47 AM, it would only be a few minutes before the sun rose.
Harley had never known timeliness like this until he met Peter. When he spent his first week at the Stark’s mansion in Malibu one summer, he remembered counting all of the clocks he found. While he couldn’t remember the exact number, he remembered it being striking to him. You see, Peter had always needed time to function properly and to stay on track. Peter was always losing track of time, so having clocks all over the house helped him a great deal.
“Alright, you’re all done. Let’s get you into bed,” Harley whispered, finding his boy to be already half asleep. Harley chuckled, lifting Peter up and out of the dimly sunlit bathroom that he most definitely needed to disinfect, and into his bed. Peter groaned at the sudden loss of contact, reaching his arms out in a blind search for his boyfriend.
“I know, darlin’. Just a second, I’m gettin’ your water bottle,” Harley spoke softly, picking up the red metallic water bottle, cursing himself when the ice sloshed around the inside, causing Peter to cover his ears protectively. Harley winced, carefully setting it down next to Peter.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Harley whispered, carefully removing Peter’s hands from his ears and kissing each of Peter’s hands delicately.
“‘s okay, sweethear’, you didn’ mean it,” Peter spoke softly. Harley smiled, lovingly pushing Peter’s curls back before helping him drink a few sips of water.
Once Harley had set the water bottle aside, Peter used his spider-strength to pull Harley down to his bed. Peter absentmindedly brought Harley closer to his chest and carded his fingers through Harley’s hair. He laid his duvet over the both of them, settling in.
“Get some ‘leep, Harls. I know you nee’ it,” Peter whispered, lying his own head over Harley’s.
If the rest of the occupants of the Stark’s upstate lake cabin had been awake, they surely would’ve been able to feel the love and affection emanating from the New York teen’s bedroom. As the two basked in the deep red glow of the upstate sunrise reflecting off of the lake, they felt a sense of tranquillity and solemnity wash over them.
“I love you, Harls,” Peter slurred sleepily, kissing the top of Harley’s head tentatively.
“I love you more, darlin’,” Harley whispered, nuzzling his head further into his boyfriend’s chest.
Soon, both boys fell into a deep sleep, feeling comforted by the lapping of the lake water on the shore, birds chirping outside Peter’s window, and, most importantly, each other’s presence. As the upstate sun rose over the horizon, FRIDAY took it upon herself to close Peter’s mechanical blinds.
But, of course, who would Harley be to expect a night of multiple hours of consecutive sleep at the Stark’s? It was only a couple of hours later that Harley awoke to a distressed Morgan shaking him frantically. He immediately looked to where Peter was lying hours prior. Harley felt a sense of relief wash over him as he took in his boyfriend's peaceful form next to him.
“Harley! I’m scared,” Morgan whispered, climbing up into Harley’s lap. Harley sat up, taking the four-year-old into his arms protectively.
“You’re alright. I gotcha. Nothin’ll get ‘cha. What’re you scared of, bug?” He asked quietly, pulling back, just slightly, only to find tears filling in the four-year-old’s innocent, brown doe eyes that matched those of her brother and father.
“I had a bad dream ‘bout Petey. He was so scared! He was with Daddy fighting the bad guys, but they got him!” Morgan cried, lying her head on Harley’s chest. Harley sighed, rubbing his hand up and down the four-year-old’s back.
“Petey’s just fine, Mo, I promise. I’ll keep both of you safe, always,” Harley whispered, bringing her closer to him. She sniffled in his arms, lying her head on Harley’s shoulder, unconsciously basking in Harley’s safe arms.
“I wan’ to go see Mommy and Daddy,” she replied, lifting herself from Harley’s hold and wiping her snotty nose on her sleeve.
“I’ll take you up to their room, c’mon,” Harley whispered, letting Morgan wrap her tiny hand around one of his fingers to hold as they both got up from Peter’s bed.
Thankfully, Peter continued to sleep without as much as a stir as Morgan and Harley quietly exited his bedroom. Harley went up the stairs slowly as Morgan took her time, needing to step on each stair once with each foot. After a moment or two, the pair had reached Tony and Pepper’s bedroom door, which had been left open by a crack.
The hallway was dimly lit, but a soft yellow glow, presumably from one of their lamps, leaked out from under their bedroom door. Morgan took a step back wrapping her arms around Harley’s leg, hiding herself behind him.
“What’s wrong, bug?” Harley asked, peeking down at her.
“I’m scared. Wha’ if they get mad at me? They wanna sleep,” Morgan whispered.
"They won’t be mad at’cha, Morgan. They just wanna help you feel better, okay? Let’s go talk to them?” Harley whispered, practically dragging the four-year-old into her parent’s room.
As much as he loved Morgan, he was exhausted and worried about his boyfriend. He felt anxious leaving the poor boy alone for more than a moment or two, especially when he was feeling as sick as he was.
“Tony,” Harley tried, shaking the man’s shoulder, to no avail.
“Tony,” Harley tried again, shaking Tony a little bit harder.
Tony sat up, disoriented as he saw Harley standing in front of him. His first thought was that Harley had come up to tell him Peter was throwing up (or worse, given his poor son’s luck), but instead he found his little girl standing in front of him, her eyes glossy as she held onto Harley like a lifeline.
Tony’s heart sank as Harley’s look of exhaustion and worry (for either Peter, Morgan, or both, Tony wasn’t sure, though it was likely the latter) etched into his features. The look resonated with Tony, as it was a look that he knew all too well. It was a look that Harley and Peter shared often, considering Harley and Peter’s enrollment at Midtown and Peter’s job as Spider-Man.
“Oh, sweetheart. What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Tony asked, sitting up in his bed and resting against the headboard. Morgan sniffled, hiding herself behind Harley’s leg.
As much as Harley wanted to be there for the little girl, he desperately wanted to go back to bed. What he didn’t know was that Tony could tell just how exhausted he was.
“She ‘fraid you’ll be mad at ‘er,” Harley slurred, exhaustion more evident in his face than it was in his voice. Tony’s expression softened, both out of concern for Harley and worry for Morgan.
“I could never be mad at you, baby. C’mere,” Tony whispered as he opened his arms for his little girl to take comfort in.
She quickly let go of Harley to practically jump into the comforting arms of her father.
“I had a bad dream, Daddy! You- you and Petey were fighting bad guys and… and then they got him! He was so scared and you were so scared, too!” Morgan cried, which was enough to wake her mother as well.
“Oh, baby. Daddy and Petey are both safe, okay? So safe. You don’t have to worry about them,” Pepper whispered, kissing her daughter’s forehead and running her fingers through her dark brown hair.
After a few minutes of Tony and Pepper comforting Morgan, she’d fallen asleep lying in her parents arms. Tony laid her down in between them, as it was clear she would be staying with them for the rest of the night.
“How are you feeling, buddy?” Tony asked, getting off of his bed carefully so as to not wake Morgan.
“Hm?” Harley mumbled, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands.
Tony made his way over to Harley and placed a hand on the southern boy’s back comfortingly. Harley leaned into the touch, stepping forward slightly and resting his forehead on Tony’s shoulder. Tony took the boy into his arms, holding him close to his chest. He stayed quiet for a moment as he let Harley lean against him.
“Here, let’s get you back to bed, yeah?” Tony asked, guiding the exhausted teenager out of his bedroom and towards Peter’s.
“I don’t mind, just… wanted to make sure she was okay,” Harley whispered, sighing after speaking.
“Still, you’re not gonna play boyfriend and babysitter at this hour. Pep and I got it from here, promise,” Tony argued.
Harley nodded, allowing Tony to help him into his boyfriend’s bedroom. Once they entered, as quietly as Harley had left, Tony helped Harley into bed and pulled the covers up and over the southern teen. To Harley’s left, Peter was sprawled across the bed haphazardly.
“He sleeps like a disaster,” Tony muttered, his tone playful.
Harley chuckled, looking over at Peter, who had stirred at the commotion.
“Hmm, Harls?” Peter’s voice was groggy, blindly reaching out for his boyfriend until he finally latched onto Harley’s arm.
“I’m here, darlin’,” Harley whispered, brushing Peter’s hair back gently, “go back to sleep.”
“You ‘kay? Where’d you go?” Peter asked, lying his head on his boyfriend’s chest.
“I went up with Morgan, she had a bad dream. Your dad is right here, too,” Harley whispered, pointing to Tony’s silhouette that stood in the center of Peter’s room.
“Hi, Dad,” Peter mumbled, clearly half asleep, “I have bad dreams, too, sometimes.”
Tony sighed, walking over to his son and lying down next to him, just like he had when Peter was a little kid. He carded a hand through Peter’s hair, smiling as he leant back into the touch, even if it was just slightly.
“I know you do. I’ll always be here to protect you, Roo. Even when you’re all grown up. Same goes for you, potato boy,” Tony quipped, smirking at Harley.
Peter wasn’t coherent enough to understand what was going on. However, Harley definitely was.
“Oh, whatever, Tony Stank,” Harley replied, a smirk of his own spread across his lips.
“I knew I shouldn’t have told you about that,” Tony whispered, only to earn a laugh from Harley. However, Harley's laughter was soon cut off by a yelp of his own pain. Peter had dragged Harley down by the shoulder, forcing his boyfriend to lay down on his chest.
"Harls, 'm tired. We should both go to sleep. We nee' it," Peter muttered, his eyes closed as he loosely held onto his boyfriend, running his tired hands up and down the southern boy’s arms.
Harley chuckled huskily, lying his head contently on Peter’s chest. He closed his eyes, nuzzling further into his boyfriend’s warmth. Tony smiled beside the two of them. He couldn’t be prouder of his boys. They had always had something special ever since Tony had flown Harley out to California that one summer. Tony knew that it wasn’t brotherly, but he couldn’t say that it was romantic, either. Nor did he assume that it was, they were eleven-years-old when they’d met for the first time. However, Tony wasn’t able to say that he couldn’t tell they’d always had a special type of bond. With that, Tony stepped out of the bed, pressing a kiss to Peter’s forehead and giving Harley’s shoulder a light squeeze. Soon, both teens had fallen fast asleep and Tony was determined to keep it that way. Well, to the best of his ability.
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It was 7:00 AM, 7:23 AM to be exact. Harley was awoken to violent rustling on Peter’s side of the bed. The southern boy sighed, sitting up. Once he processed where he was and what had happened in the last ten hours, he was wide awake and on high alert. Peter shot up in bed, tangled in grey bed sheets that significantly contrasted his sickly white complexion. He had sweat lining his hairline and Harley could hear how upset the brunette’s stomach was.
“Okay, okay. You’re alright, darlin’. C’mon, bathroom!” Harley spoke hastily, forcefully helping Peter out of bed and into his bathroom for what seemed to be the hundredth time.
Of course, Harley didn’t mind, but he was exhausted, Peter was exhausted, and the pair just needed a break. Harley helped Peter as he vomited vigorously into the porcelain toilet bowl. Harley wordlessly offered his hand for Peter to take, just as he had the previous day. Peter took it, squeezing Harley’s hand with an iron grip. Harley used his free hand to lightly massage Peter’s scalp as he began dry heaving into the toilet bowl.
“Harls, hur’s,” Peter rasped, leaning into his boyfriend’s touch. Harley sighed, tentatively taking Peter into his arms.
“I know it does, Pete, I’m sorry. Don’t talk right now, okay? It’s hurtin’ you,” Harley whispered, taking his hand that Peter wasn’t holding and running it through the New York teen’s brunette curls.
Peter laid his head under Harley’s chin, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. Harley took a deep breath as well, kissing the crown of Peter’s temple tentatively.
“I love you, sweetheart. I’m sorry you feel so bad. I wish I could do more for you,” Harley whispered.
He began helping Peter onto the counter, holding him steady while he squeezed strawberry toothpaste onto Peter’s orange toothbrush. Peter hated peppermint. More than he hated the pythagorean theorem, which said a lot. It had to do with his spider genetics.
Peppermint was the one thing that Harley knew helped with nausea. Which, of course, didn’t apply to Peter, so Harley couldn’t use it. Hence, why Harley was currently brushing the teeth of his sixteen-year-old boyfriend with Tom’s of Maine Silly Strawberry toothpaste. Once Harley had finished brushing Peter’s teeth, he rinsed off the toothbrush and set it next to the sink. Peter sighed, lying his head on Harley’s shoulder.
“Thank you for takin’ care o’ me,” Peter whispered, placing a kiss on Harley’s cheek.
Harley smiled, combing Peter’s hair back with his hand. This may have been the third time that Peter had thrown up in the past twelve hours, but Harley truly didn’t mind. He didn’t care about how much sleep he lost, as long as Peter was safe and taken care of.
“You don’t have to thank me. Let’s get some water and then head back to bed, yeah?” Harley whispered, picking Peter up and off of the counter.
Peter held onto his boyfriend like a koala would hold into its mother as Harley carried him back to bed. Harley set the brunette down on the bed, supporting him by holding up his back while he, carefully, grabbed Peter’s water bottle off of his bedside table. He latched his right hand under Peter’s chin to tip his head back and slowly poured the liquid into his boyfriend’s mouth. Peter took a deep breath after he drank a few sips of water, thankful for the ice-cold liquid that eased his scratchy throat. Peter laid down, lying his head in his boyfriend’s lap. Harley’s heart melted at the sight, running his left hand through Peter’s brown curls.
“Let’s go back to sleep, darlin’. It’s pretty early,” Harley whispered, positioning Peter to lay on his chest.
Peter didn’t give Harley anything more than a nod before drifting off. Harley smiled, taking Peter’s hand into his own and running his thumb up and down the back of the brunette’s hand. Of course, Harley would do anything to change the circumstances, but he couldn’t say that he didn’t enjoy these intimate moments with his boyfriend. Eventually, Harley drifted off as well.
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It was 8:34 AM, and Morgan Stark was up and running. Of course, her abundance of energy had awoken her parents, who hadn’t gotten much more than four hours of sleep. However, after being parents for sixteen years, the two were quite used to losing sleep due to energetic toddlers. It was a blessing that the four-year-old had even managed to sleep past 6:00 AM. After the three of them had woken up, Tony, Pepper, and Morgan made their way downstairs for breakfast. Tony and Morgan sat on the living room couch while Pepper was in the kitchen, just one room over, cooking eggs and bacon for the three of them.
“I wanna go get Harley! We were playing dolls yesterday. I was the sea-monster and Harley was the fairy. We have to keep playing, Daddy!” Morgan insisted, tugging on Tony’s sweatshirt to grab his attention.
“Not right now, sweetheart. Harley was up with you and your brother most of the night. He needs some sleep. I can play with you until breakfast is ready,” Tony offered, taking Morgan’s small hand into his.
Without much warning, Morgan suddenly jumped from the couch and barreled towards the hallway that led to Peter’s room. Pepper, thankfully, turned off the stove and was able to grab her before she could get too far. She grabbed Morgan by her underarms and began to bring her back to the couch. Even whilst Morgan was kicking her feet rapidly, Pepper managed to get the four-year-old seated.
“Why can’t Harley play? I wanna play with Harley!” Morgan whined, tears welling in her big brown eyes.
“Harley is exhausted, baby. He hardly slept because of how much your brother was throwing up last night,” Pepper explained calmly, running her soft hand through Morgan’s hair as she squatted down in front of her.
Morgan furrowed her eyebrows, as if she was processing the words that she had just heard. Her lips formed into a pout as she crossed her arms in disapproval. Tony did his best to stifle a laugh as he looked at his daughter’s frankly adorable expression.
“Is Petey gonna feel better soon? I heard him screamin’ last night. He kept saying ‘let me go!’ I think he was talking to Harley, ‘cause he doesn’t wanna get Harley sick. But Petey loves Harley! I want Petey to feel better so he can be with Harley,” Morgan informed them.
Tony and Pepper shared a knowing look, unsure of what to say. Sure, they could feed into Morgan’s childlike naivety and let her believe that Peter’s screams were simply to protect his boyfriend from the flu, but Tony figured that they were going to have to have the ‘your brother is traumatized’ talk with their daughter eventually.
“Yes, he’ll feel better soon, love,” Tony sighed, “but, I have to tell you something about Petey.”
Tony thought about how he was going to phrase this. Tony has played many games of ‘Would a Four-Year-Old Understand’ in his sixteen years of being a parent, but he had never, ever had a talk like this with either of his kids.
“You know how sometimes Petey goes with Daddy to fight bad guys?” Tony asked. Morgan nodded, her eyebrows furrowing slightly, as if to say ‘where is this going?’
“Sometimes, Petey fights bad guys on his own, some pretty scary ones. He doesn’t stop fighting, even when he gets sleepy. So, there’s been a couple times where Petey got very hurt. Which was pretty scary for him. Sometimes, he has bad dreams about those times and he thinks that it’s real,” Tony explained.
Albeit, Tony knew it wasn’t the best explanation, but he wasn’t sure how else he could explain Peter’s post traumatic stress to a four-year-old.
“What Daddy is trying to say is Petey has bad dreams most nights. Petey didn’t scream last night because he’s sick, it was because he had a bad dream,” Pepper added.
“I have bad dreams too, Mommy. I think Petey should just go sleep in your bed like I do. It makes me feel better,” Morgan replied.
Pepper smiled, running her hand through Morgan's hair and placed a kiss on her forehead. Tony sighed, grabbing his wife’s free hand and squeezing it reassuringly. Pepper looked up at her husband to find him flashing a warm, loving smile at her. Pepper returned the gesture.
“I know, baby. Petey has a hard time telling Mommy and Daddy when something is wrong. We’re working on it,” Tony replied, studying his daughter's expression.
Morgan wasn’t sure what to think. If Petey was too sleepy to fight bad guys, why did he keep fighting them? Doesn’t he need a break sometimes? Also, why was he afraid to talk to Mommy and Daddy when he had a bad dream? He could just sleep in their bed like she does. That always made her feel better!
“He can keep sleeping, Daddy. Will you play with me?” Morgan finally agrees, looking up at Tony.
Tony chuckled, taking his daughter into his arms and placing a kiss on the top of her head. As much as Tony adored his daughter’s alikeness to him, it was a brutal awakening as to how others might perceive his character.
“I’ll always play with you, Mo,” Tony agreed, situating himself and Morgan on the floor in front of her dollhouse.
“I’ll get back to breakfast then. Don’t be too loud, okay? Can’t have Peter and Harley losing any sleep!” Pepper said, kissing Morgan on the forehead and her husband on the check before retreating back to the kitchen.
“Alright, Pep. Will do,” Tony replied, nodding in agreement.
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It was early afternoon before Peter and Harley eventually emerged from Peter’s room. Tony immediately noticed that Peter didn’t seem nearly as sick as he had the night before. Harley’s eyebags had lightened by what had to be about a thousand shades.
“Good morning boys! Well, good afternoon,” Pepper greeted the both of them, walking up to her son and placing a hand on his forehead.
“Tony? Does he feel any warmer to you?” She asked, removing her hand from Peter’s forehead.
Tony placed the back of his hand on Peter’s forehead, furrowing his eyebrows as he tilted his head back and forth. Peter didn’t feel much cooler, but he didn’t seem any warmer either, so at least he was finally on the mend.
“Maybe a little bit cooler, but not any warmer,” Tony replied.
Suddenly, Peter stumbled backwards and let out a grunt. He hardly caught himself when his little sister tumbled into his legs and wrapped her little arms around one of them.
“Daddy told me you have bad dreams, Petey. I have them too. When you have one, you need to go sleep in Mommy and Daddy’s bed, okay? Or you can sleep in my bed! Just don’t be alone,” Morgan ordered, a sense of determination in her tone.
”I, uh, yeah. I will, Mo,” Peter replied, placing a hand on his sister’s small shoulder
He was clearly congested, as his voice was incredibly nasally. Harley subtly grabbed Peter’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Peter grimaced, scrunching his nose and pursing his lips as he realized why Morgan was bringing this up. She had definitely heard him screaming last night. She eventually let Peter go, abandoning him to return to her beloved dollhouse.
“How about a late lunch and a movie? You can pick, boys,” Pepper suggested, ushering both of them to the couch.
Once they sat down, Peter immediately burrowed his head into Harley’s side, covering his ears. Harley’s heart tensed at the sight of his boyfriend. His senses were still cranked up to the max and he hadn’t been exposed to this much noise in a few days.
“Do you want your ear plugs?” Harley asked quietly, carding his hand through Peter’s hair.
Peter nodded, “and a blanket? I’m cold.”
Harley chuckled, pressing a tentative kiss to the crown of his boyfriend’s temple. He couldn’t help but feel sorry for the poor boy. A large part of what kept Peter going was his passion for helping others. This was how the world repaid him? Harley stood up after a moment or two and got a pair of Peter’s earplugs and his favorite fluffy, orange blanket from his bedroom. He also grabbed his red water bottle, just for good measure. He set the water bottle on the black, sleek, metal end table and put Peter’s yellow earplugs in each of his ears. He laid the orange blanket over Peter’s small form and sat down next to him. Sprawled across the couch and laid his head in Harley’s lap.
“That any better, darlin’?” Harley asked ever so quietly.
Peter nodded, jumping a little bit when his mom handed him the TV remote. He smiled at her, leaning into her touch as she cupped his cheek with her hand.
“I’m sorry you don’t feel good, honey. Do you want some of your water?” She asked.
Once Peter nodded in response, she handed the water bottle to Harley, trusting the southern boy implicitly to take care of her son. Harley flashed a toothless smile and took the bottle from her hands, unscrewing the bottle before tapping Peter’s shoulder.
“Here, darlin’. Can you sit up for a minute? Just gotta get some water in you, then we can watch whatever you want,” Harley asked.
Peter sat up, opened his eyes, and allowed Harley to tip his head back so he could sip from his water bottle. Peter drank the water gratefully as it eased his aching throat. Harley set the water bottle on the end table and positioned Peter to curl into his side once again. Peter navigated all of the services on the TV, eventually landing on Netflix and choosing a movie called ‘Daddy Daycare’ with Eddie Murphy. Tony eventually joined them, sitting next to his son. Peter had missed his dad over the past few days, so he opted to hold Harley’s hand and lay his head on his Dad’s shoulder.
“I love you, Roo,” Tony whispered, kissing his son’s brown curls.
“Love you too,” Peter replied.
For a few minutes, the living room was quiet other than the TV playing. Tony watched as Harley’s thumb slowly caressed the back of Peter’s hand. Peter would laugh occasionally, usually coughing after he did so. The movie eventually ended. Pepper had made the three of them a late lunch. She made Tony and Harley sandwiches. She made a ham and cheese sandwich for Harley, and a turkey, lettuce and tomato sandwich for Tony. She made Peter his favorite tomato soup and a grilled cheese, hoping and praying that the poor boy would be able to hold it down. Thankfully, he did, much to Harley’s surprise, due to how much the brunette had vomited the previous night.
Eventually, night came back around. Harley was going to stay for a couple more nights since Harley’s mom didn’t mind her son staying over at Tony’s after everything the man had done for her family. After saying goodnight to Tony, Pepper, and Morgan, Harley and Peter retreated to Peter’s room.
“I think I need a shower, Harls,” Peter announced, pulling off Harley’s sweatshirt, leaving him shirtless. Harley couldn’t help but stare.
“Like what you see?” Peter joked, tossing the sweatshirt to Harley.
“Whatever, spider boy. Do you need help in the shower, or do you think you’ve got it?” Harley asked, setting the sweatshirt on the foot of their bed.
”I’ll be alright. Can you toss me a sweatshirt, please? And a pair of sweatpants,” Peter asked, giggling when Harley tossed them directly at his head.
“Dude!” Peter squealed, throwing the clothes towards the bathroom behind him.
Harley gasped, gently taking Peter into his arms and falling onto their bed.
“You did not just call me ‘dude’,” Harley giggled, lightly pushing Peter away from him so he could look the other boy in the eye.
“You’re right, I didn’t. I’ll be back in a few. Do you wanna shower, too?” Peter asked, releasing himself from his boyfriend’s hold and picking up his clothes from the floor.
“Yeah, I will,” Harley smiled, looking over to Peter.
After about ten minutes, Harley heard the shower shut off, only for his boyfriend to emerge a moment later, wearing a pair of black sweatpants and a sweatshirt that Harley knew had come from his closet back in his apartment. Soon, Harley had showered as well, opting to wear one of Peter’s sweatshirts and a pair of flannel pajama pants that were likely Tony’s.
As the New York sun set along the horizon, shades of pink, orange and yellow cast themselves into Peter’s room through his bedroom window (which Harley had half the mind to open whilst Peter was in the shower). Harley and Peter laid in their bed, taking in each other’s presences. Harley held Peter against his chest, his arms wrapped around the brunette protectively.
“I love you, Harls,” Peter whispered, placing a kiss on his boyfriend’s chest.
Harley chuckled, kissing Peter tentatively on the lips. Peter smiled, bringing Harley’s lips right back to his once Harley let the kiss go.
“I love you, Pete. So much, darlin’,” Harley whispered.
As the sun eventually fell under the horizon, Peter Stark and Harley Keener felt safe in each other’s presence. No matter the circumstances, or even the time of day, they would always, always, be there for each other. And that was more than enough for the both of them.