Fakey fake dating
‘Welcome at your favorite channel JCG! Where juicy celebrity gossip makes our day.’ Adam Cindie’s voice makes Peter’s skin crawl. His silk, conniving lisp makes him want to puke. He should ignore the jabs, should be above it. It's hard. He’s so godforsaken sick of Adam matching him with every celeb he meets. Last week he reported Spider-Man and The Hulk together. He shouldn’t watch his weekly show, he knows, but he can’t help himself. Surely it can’t be worse than being matched with Bruce’s green alter-ego?
It is.
‘Join us tonight to find out what Tony Stark is secretly doing behind Ms. Potts back.’
‘Ooooooh, wouldn’t we all like to know that?’ Harley flops on the couch next to Peter. He hands Peter a bowl of peanuts.
‘Like to know what?’ Tony enters the room, flipping through a stack of papers.
‘Who you did this time, you kinky bastard.’
‘Well, Pepper. Multiple times.’ He answers absentmindedly.
‘TMI, Tony! There’s a kid present!’ Harley shields Peters ears.
His hands are cool and strong. They send a shiver down Peter’s spine. ‘Hey! Not a kid!’ He swats Harley’s hands away, even though he’d rather keep them on his body infinitely. Yeah. He’s got it bad, thank you.
‘Oh, I know, darling.’ Harley winks, making Peter blush. ‘Here, have this. I like to watch cute guys sucking on a coke.’ He hands Peter a bottle of cola, while he gulps his own like a porn star.
‘Our NYC spies have seen Mr. Stark in very compromising poses together with… you won’t believe this, sweet viewers, but you have seen him doing the dirty with no other than Spider-Man! Check out these photo’s and form your own opinion.’ Adam’s voice sounds smug as photos of Tony and Spider-Man come into view. They are from last Wednesday, when he collapsed from a gaping head wound and needed stitches mid-fight. Tony is standing over Peter, holding his head near his crotch area, hand fisting Peter’s hair to hold it away from the wound. From the angle the pictures are shot, they do look fucking indecent.
Tony looks up and snorts. ‘Good one.’
Harley leans in. ‘Hmm, wonder if that’s what you would look like on you knees.’
Peter chokes on his drink.
Harley is watching the screen again with too much interest.
‘Our philanthropist hero should do better.’ Adam Cindie’s voice sounds stern.
‘Hey!’ Peter’s voice is indignant. ‘I’ll have you know I’m a very good catch!’
‘Yeah, according to Cindie you catch and release every week, darling.’
Peter whacks Harley on the head.
'Ouch! Little less Spider-powers next time, please.'
'I'll show you Spider-power if you don't shut it.' Peter growls.
'Tempting.' Harley's sultry voice does things to Peter's insides.
'Hey, a little less flirting on my couch would be appreciated.' Tony rolls his eyes.
'Can't do, old man. Flirting is my middle name. Now shush, I'm watching this.'
Peter sighs. Ever since Harley came by the tower for a sleep-over and never left again, they've been getting along like a house on fire. Both clever, with the same sense of humor and the burning desire to be little shits. That combined with Tony's well-stocked labs made the tower an interesting place. They've pranked everyone in every possible way. And then it happened. They were in a closet together, waiting for Happy to walk past them seething (they might have rewired his car so the horn played Baby Shark with every handle, button or switch he used). Harley was so close and holding back giggles. All Peter could think about was kissing the shit out of him. Which would be okay, considering how much Harley flirts with him. But Harley is the biggest flirt in the world. Hell, in the multiverse. He's like this with everyone. He just doesn't know where he's standing with Harley. Peter sighs again, his attention drawn back to the tv.
‘May I remind you that our spies are adamant Spider-Man is underage, people. That means our Playboy is doing the very ILLEGAL dirty. Who would've thought our hero could sink this low? Please stay tuned for more photos.’
That’s it. He can’t take it anymore. Peter switches off the television with a groan.
Tony’s still laughing. ‘Oh, Bambi. I’ve been called worse. It’ll blow over.’
‘Or there’ll be more photos of you blowing.’ Harley wiggles his brows suggestively. ‘Now, those I’d like to see.’
Did the room just get twenty degrees hotter? Peter’s sure of it.
It doesn’t blow over, though. The following weeks there seems to be a campaign of catching Peter and Tony in the act. Several more photos are shared, all of very innocent moments, but from terrible suggestive angles. Tony becomes frustrated as people seem to walk away from his business. That’s how Peter finds himself, Harley, Tony and Pepper in a meeting.
'What is wrong?' Peter asks.
Tony cards his hand through his hair. 'It's the hate campaign from JCG.' He sighs. 'Several media outlets are boycotting our adverts.'
'That never stopped you before, Tones.' Harley replies. 'What's different now?'
Pepper steps in. 'We can handle one or two social media boycots, but it's all of them now. Even X has put our account on hold. Not to mention the regular media that are cancelling us rapidly.'
Harley whistles.
Peter feels the guilt rise. 'I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. I'll just stay away from you from now, so nothing new will show up.'
Tony turns his head to Pepper. 'I told you he'd go guilttripping.'
Pepper chastises him with a stern look. 'Not helping, Tony.' She looks at Peter kindly. 'None of this is your fault, sweetie. It must be hard on you too.'
It is, if he's honest. When he's patrolling, people stop him and tell him to quit such an unhealthy relationship. The general consensus is that Spider-Man is a victim. He hates that. When he's wearing the mask, he's strong, sassy and afraid of nothing. He doesn't want pity; it makes him feel insecure. He nods. 'It sometimes is.'
'We've come up with a plan, though. Friday has scanned the CCTV and has gathered enough counter-evidence of all the incidents. Different angles show different things. We're planning to distribute them through the still available channels.'
'And I've called Christina. Told her Adam Cindie's setting me up. Gave her the evidence.' Tony looks grim. 'She was already working on it. They have an item about cancel-culture and juice channels in two days. It’s about how JGC spread fake news Christina planted herself. So this is right up her alley. They're working day and night to incorporate our story.'
'Sounds like a decent plan.' Harley hums.
'But it would look even more decent if Spider-Man wasn't single.' Pepper adds, looking at the two of them intensely. 'If he was seeing someone.'
Peter doesn't follow her immediately. 'I'm not, though. And it would be kinda awkward to just pluck someone of the street, right? Not to mention keeping the secret identity thing a... well... secret?'
Harley sighs exasperated. 'For such a genius, he's pretty daft in the emotional department. Ain't he?'
Pepper tries to hide a smile. 'Well, maybe you can explain, Mr. Keener.'
'Darling, she's talking about us.'
Peter's normally quick on the uptake brain screeches into a complete halt.
'So, cutie patootie', Harley's voice is laced with faux sweetness, 'would you please fake date me? I promise to be a gentleman and uphold your honor.'
Tony snorts. 'Like he hasn't been trying to get in his pants since the day he walked in.'
Peter feels mortified. Has he been that obvious? And then the realization hits him. He has to pretend to love someone he already loves. Fuck.
'Don't worry, honey bunch. We can break up after if you want.' He winks at him. 'But once you've tasted the Southern charm, you'll never want to go back.'
Tony gags, as Pepper stands. 'We're going to do a press conference in a week, after the news has settled. I suggest you get to know each other by then, set boundaries and align your stories.' She pulls Tony up and exits, a tad bit too quick for Peter's taste. But before he can delve into what's happening, it dawns on him what she means by setting boundaries. Fuck. They have to talk if it’s okay to hold hands or even kiss each other. This'll be a long week.
Harley seems to have the same realization. 'Soooooo... Wanna try out some kissing, hon?' He puckers his lips and makes smooching noises.
Peter groans and lets his head drop to the desk. Long week. Check.
Pepper has set them up for a dinner date that evening. She even made little conversation cards to make it easier to align their stories. Harley holds the door open for him. When they step into the private dining room Tony has (because of course Tony has one) in the tower, Peter's overwhelmed by the romantic feel of it. To his surprise Harley pulls out the chair for him and makes sure he's settled, before sitting himself.
'Soooooo. Let's start. I'll go first. Or do you wanna go first? And maybe we should stick to the truth as closely as possible? Makes it easier.'
Yeah, Peter is truly fucked. Close to the truth, he says, and all of that without making clever-as-fuck-Harley see right through him.
Harley picks up a card. 'When have you first met? Easy. That was four months ago, in the tower.'
‘Can’t argue with that one.’ Peter agrees and grabs a card too. 'What do you find physically attractive about your partner? Why did you get an easy one, Harls?'
Harley bats his eyes. 'You wound me, hon'. Can you not name a single attractive thing about poor little me?'
Well, that's not exactly a problem, is it? Peter can name a thousand things. What he needs now is to name a few of them without raising suspicion. 'I like your hands.'
Harley looks at his own hands, wondering. 'Why?'
Peter swallows. 'You create the most awesome things with them. That, and I have a hand thing.'
Harley laughs. 'You really do?'
Peter wants to make light of it, but he can't. 'Stick close to the truth, right? I like strong hands with slender fingers.'
'Huh, whaddaya know. Might be hope for me.' Harley smirks. 'I love your brain.'
'That's not a physical thing, Harls.' But fuck, it makes him blush.
'I wasn't finished yet. I like your brain and your gorgeous doe-eyes. And of course, there's that muscular ass.' Harley shows him a toothy grin. 'I'd love to sink my teeth in those buttcheeks. Honey.'
Peter is glad he's already red as a beet.
'What do you find most annoying about the other?' Harley reads the next card. 'That's an easy one! You have your head up your ass sometimes. Even in all your cleverness, you can't always see what's going on around you.'
'Care to elaborate?' Peter feels slightly annoyed at how easy Harley comes up with his reply. Plus he doesn’t get what he means and he fucking hates it when he doesn’t.
Harley's mouth twists up in a grimace. 'You go find that out for yourself, darlin'. As you're doing it right now.'
And isn't that an odd thing to say? Peter's mind whirls, not able to make out what Harley means.
'Your turn.'
'I... I wish I knew when you are serious. I can't always tell if you're serious or just goofing around or flirting.'
Harley barks out a laugh. 'Oh, hon'. I'm always serious when I'm flirting with you.' He winks.
Peter sighs. This is just what he means.
'My turn again. When did you first realize you were attracted to the other? When I walked through the door and saw those big Bambi eyes turn to me, I was a goner. Didn't know if you'd swing my way yet, but I was definitely hoping you did. Which way do you swing, by the way?'
'All ways. And I don't mean by web.' Peter smirks lopsided.
Harley snorts. 'That was a bad one, darlin'. I prefer men, but I've been with a woman occasionally. You still have to answer the question, tho.'
'I-' Peter finds his tongue stuck to his palate, unable to form words.
Harley looks a tad bit sad. 'It's okay to say you're not attracted, Pete. We'll just think of something together.'
Peter hates the sad look on Harley's face. He has to start talking, or his friend will feel hurt. 'I... it was when we were stuck together in that broom closet.'
Harley lights up. 'Heck, yea. That time we were running from Happy. Who knew you were so devious? Baby shark? That's bound to be on the torture music list.'
'Hey! That was your idea!'
'Uh-uh, sure. That's another thing I hate about you, Parker. The way you're always deflecting the blame on me.'
'Oh!' Peter squeaks out indignantly. 'You're being so unfair!'
Harley laughs again, the one that makes Peter's stomach swoop. 'So easy to provoke, hon'. Want me to kiss that pout away?'
'I might?' It's out of Peter's mouth before he can stop himself. Shit. 'I mean, we still have to decide just how far we're willing to go, right?' It's lame, but Harley seems to think he's serious. Pfieuw. Disaster averted.
Harley studies him seriously. 'I think we have to show affection to make it believable.'
Peter nods.
'So, I'm guessing: holding hands, wrapping my arm around your shoulder, hugging?'
Peter smiles. 'We already do that, Harls.'
'Yeah, and still that head's up your ass.' Harley mutters, before adding: 'I have to look your way a lot, like a lovesick puppy. Your mask will shield your eyes, but it would be good to turn your head my way often.'
'What about kissing?' Peter's proud of how steady his voice comes out.
'I figured you wouldn't want that.' Harley answers.
'Why?' Peter is astonished.
'Because you don't have much experience in the matter?'
Peter sputters. 'Whatever makes you think that?' He's not the world's biggest hunk, but he's experimented quite a bit. 'There's a reason I know I swing all ways, Harley.' He smiles what he hopes is flirtatious.
'Oh.' The sad look returns.
'What?'
'That means you're just not attracted to me, does it?' Harley shrugs. 'Seeing as you've kissed several others.'
'Wait, what? I'm confused, Harley. Why do you... I...' Peter shakes his head. 'I wouldn't mind kissing you at all.' There. He's said it.
Harley laughs uncomfortably. 'You make it sound like a fucking chore, Peter. But I suppose fake dating to you is just that.'
That's it. Peter gets up quicker than Usain Bolt and strides over to the other side of the table. He grabs Harley by his lapels and pulls him up. 'It isn't.' He presses his lips to an incredibly stunned Harley. A Harley who isn't moving. Who isn't returning the kiss. Who is practically a rag doll in his arms. Shit. Peter pulls away. 'I'm sorry, Harle- hmpf'
He's cut off again by Harley, who presses his lips on Peter's and wraps his arm around his neck. He feels Harley's tongue prod gently between his lips. Then he leans back and asks: 'Do you think it'll be more believable with or without tongue? I'm okay with both.'
That short-circuits Peter's brain. Damn, they were just doing this for the fake dating, weren't they? Well, he sure as hell wasn't, but Harley seems to think otherwise. 'I...' He pushes himself off Harley, raking his hand through his hair. 'Fuck, Harley.'
Harley's mouth twitches. 'I think fucking during that press conference would be bad for you friendly neighborhood image, wouldn't it?'
Peter swallows, shaking his head to prevent his brain from imagining thát particular scene. 'Yeah.' He sits again. He looks up through his lashes. Harley looks off, shaken. 'I'm sorry, Harley. I shouldn't have sprung that kiss upon you like that.'
'Don't worry about it. I liked it.' Harley manages a crooked smile, but Peter can feel his heart isn't in it.
And then his mouth does it again. Talking without his consensus. 'I really liked it too, Harls. I really like yóu. Have liked you for quite some time.'
'Good one. Let's keep practicing those lines.'
'For fucks sake, Keener! I mean it!' Peter's volume turns up. 'I fucking have feelings for you, you- you- utter douchebag!'
Harley's eyes widen. 'You are serious?'
'I wish I wasn't. I'm sorry for spoiling this, Harls. I just can't hide it anymore.'
Harley grabs him over the table and kisses him. Hard, his tongue flicking angrily between Peter's lips, demanding access. Peter opens his lips and before he knows it, they're tonguing and lapping filthily. The angle is awkward and off and it's still the hottest kiss Peter ever had. When they gasp for air, Harley manages a: 'you are serious, right?'
'Did that feel like insincerity?'
'Nah, hon'. That felt like I wanted to grab you everywhere.'
'What made you hold back?'
'The fucking table.'
Peter grabs the sturdy Mahogany dining table. It's heavy, but he can carry a bus. He swings it away, making it crash against a wall. He'll check if it's broken later. It's not like Tony couldn’t afford a new one if it is.
'Damn, that's hot.' Harley follows his movements. 'I love it when you show off that strength.'
'Shut it, Keener.' He presses his lips on Harley's again, pulling him flush against himself. if he uses a bit more power than needed to show off, Harley doesn't mention it.
Peter feels Harley's erection press against his own. 'Bedroom?'
'I thought you'd never ask.'
*
When they wake up in Peter's bed, both sated from the night before, Harley says: 'we have to tell them, right?'
Peter nods. 'Doesn't feel right if we don't. Fakey fake dating would be too brainsplitting. And you told me once you loved me for my brain, so I'd better keep it intact.' He pulls Harley into a searing kiss. They make out some more and then get dressed for breakfast.
Peter is nervous when he enters the kitchen for breakfast. Tony and Pepper are both there. Good, so he can get this of his chest immediately. 'Harls and I... We've got to tell you something.' He squeezes their intertwined hands. 'We're together.'
Tony waves his hand impatiently. 'Yeah, yeah, that was the whole point of this exercise, wasn't it.'
Peter clears his throat. 'No, I mean... we're together together.'
Pepper looks at them inquiringly.
'What my beau is trying to say is we're actually kissing each other senseless and have been fucking like bunnies all through the night.'
Peter chokes on air. 'And we care for each other deeply.' He manages a stern look at Harley through his blush.
This time Harley waves his hand. 'That too, but I thought Tony would understand a sex metaphor better.'
Tony jumps up and claps his hands. 'Thank fuck! Finally!' Then he groans. 'Pepps, love of my live, I suddenly realise we've made a grave error. They'll stop pining and start smooching everywhere now, won't they?'
Pepper snorts. 'That's the occupational hazard.'
Tony groans again. 'Please, just... try and keep my 15.000 dollar couches clean, okay? Spunk doesn't come out of them. Trust me.'
Peter looks at them. 'Aren't you disappointed? That we couldn't keep the fake dating fake?'
'Oh, Peter.' Pepper's voice is fond. 'The fake dating wasn't needed at all. Tony and I just were freaking tired of watching you two dancing around each other.'
‘Hey! I tried to tell him!’ Harley adds. ‘Not my fault!’
‘We all did try, Harley.’ Pepper smiles.
'Yeah, I even told you Harley wanted to get in your pants the day he walked in. That didn't ring a bell?' Tony rolls his eyes.
Peter blushes bright red. He wasn't referring to him that day, but to Harley. 'Oh.'
'Now he gets it. Geez. Brilliant as the Cullinan diamond, thick as a brick, that one.' Tony shakes his head.
Harley laughs. 'I did try and seduce you, you know.'
'How the heck should I know? You flirt with everything that has a pulse!' Peter grunts, feeling really, really stupid.
'I don't ask them to suck on a bottle, do I?'
And now he thinks about it... Harley's flirting with others definitely doesn't reach that level.
Pepper laughs. 'He's right. The sexual tension between you guys was so thick, I couldn't see the other end of the room sometimes.'
'Pepper!' Peter squeaks.
'What?' She looks at him innocently. 'I'm with Tony. Some of him has rubbed off on me.' She fixes Tony with a look. 'Don't even think about making that joke.'
Tony holds up his hands in defence. 'I swear I wasn't!'
'Sure you weren't.' Harley snorts.
'Well, now this is out of the air, let's go have some breakfast. And no smooching before lunch, please. My poor stomach couldn’t handle that.' Tony looks a bit green at the thought.
‘Can’t promise anything, old man. And you can’t do anything about it, or we’ll just tell everyone at the press conference how you do have the feels for Spidey.’ Harley grins as he dodges the croissant Tony throws at him.