Oh no, I'm too smart.
“Okay, first question…” Peter started, racking his brain for ideas.
“Wait, why do you get to go first?” the blonde demanded.
“Uh, ‘cause I came up with the idea?”
“Okay. Carry on.”
“So what-”
“Wait,” Harley interrupted again. “Is it 20 questions each, or 20 questions total?”
“How would we each come up with 20 separate questions?”
“Why do they have to be separate?”
“Well, they don’t, but that would be boring.” Peter took a short sip of his coffee. “It’s 10 questions each, I start, we take turns. Does that cover every base?”
Harley thought dramatically. Don’t ask Peter to describe it, though, because the brunette was busy staring at the other’s hands. Oh gods, he really might have a problem. “Actually,” the blonde finally spoke up. “Are there any, like, boundaries? For the questions?”
Peter immediately thought of Spider-man. What if his date asked him something incriminating? “I mean, the whole point is to get to know each other, but we should be able to pass on any question we feel uncomfortable asking.”
Harley smiled. “Then I think we’re all good. You have the floor, Pete.”
Peter blushed. Why? Because Harley. “Uh, okay,” he hesitated. Let’s start with a basic one. “Are you a cat or a dog person?”
Oh no, that was too heated. This could get violent.
“Ooooh, I would have to say I’m partial to dogs, but cats are still on the table.”
Okay. Peter could work with that. “Oh thank gods, I was worried you were a cat hater.”
The taller boy looked offended. “Do I really give off that vibe?”
“No, it’s just, I love cats and I was worried you wouldn’t.”
Harley gasped, lurching forward. Peter leaned back, scared of what might happen. “Do you have a cat?”
“No?” he answered, but when he saw the blonde deflate-just a bit, it was barely noticeable-he wanted to reassure him. “But I’ve been thinking about getting one! Buc- my friend has been trying to convince me to take in one of his rescues, but I don’t want to make my aunt worry about another thing living in our apartment.”
Harley leaned back into his spot. “No kidding. I have a friend who rescues cats too.” He fist-bumped the boy across from him. “I guess he’s less of a friend, more of an abnormally aged roommate.”
Huh.
Whatever.
“So, next question?” Peter inquired, taking a bite out of his nearly-forgotten muffin, peeling the wrapper a bit.
“Oh yeah.” he rubbed his hands together. “How old are you?”
Oh shit.
Oh shit.
“Oh shit,” Peter groaned into his hands. “I cannot believe we didn’t disclose that information before coming here.”
“Darlin, we didn’t disclose any information before coming here. We literally met on the streets.” Peter groaned again. He was coming to learn that the blonde could be extremely unhelpful - all the time. “Besides, that’s the point of the game.”
“Yeah, sure, okay. I’m 17.”
“Oh thank God.” Harley let his shoulders drop. This was the first time Peter noticed that he was tense - the boy was apparently amazing at faking confidence and chill. “Hi, Harley Keener, 18 years old.”
Harley Keener. That’s hot.
“Parker. I mean, Peter Parker. That’s my name.”
Harley laughed quietly, not even bothering to hide it. “Nice to finally meet you, Peter Parker.”
“Nice to meet you too.” Peter thought of something. “Wait, are you still in high school, or did you graduate?”
“Ah, I’m in my senior year. I just moved to New York like two weeks ago, so I start school on Monday.” the taller boy glanced down at his phone. “And, since it’s already Saturday, I should probably prepare.”
Peter chuckled. “I’d probably hop on that. What do you need to prepare?”
“I just need to get my schedule.” Harley said. “Oh, and get school supplies.”
Peter almost choked on his drink. Almost. “What? How are you gonna get school supplies in a day? A sunday?”
The blonde shrugged. “I know a guy. In fact, I live with said guy.”
“But the prices must be so-” the shorter boy started, before remembering the fucking black card. “Nevermind.”
“Mhm, said ‘guy’ also happens to be l-o-a-d-e-d.” he spelled out. Peter could tell he wasn’t bragging, but he was enjoying the way the other boy talked about his ‘old man’, as he’d called him. “He’s the only reason I moved to NYC.”
“Where are you from? Like, where did you live before coming here?”
Harley smirked. “Tennessee. Born and raised, and all that shit.” He was definitely putting on a stronger accent just to say that, but Peter wasn’t complaining.
“That’s so cool.”
“Cool?” the blonde quirked an eyebrow. “I have never heard anyone saying living in Tennessee is ‘cool’. Lame, stupid, boring, gay, sure. Never ‘cool’.”
Peter giggled. “Gay?”
“I mean, I did come from there, and look at me now.” Harley gestured to himself.
Peter giggled again. Oh my gods, tone it down, Daffy Duck. “Are you exclusively into guys?” he blurted. Shit. Fuck. Shit again. “Not in an invasive way! I was just- I didn’t- sorry-”
“Yes, I am a full homosexual. And no, it’s not invasive, I actually like talking about it.” Harley reassured him, and Peter relaxed a little. “If it’s alright to ask, what about you?”
“Oh, I’m bi. I think. I’m pretty sure.” Peter was still a bit hesitant about labeling himself, but he knew that he liked both men and women, at the very least.
Harley nodded. “That’s cool.” he got up and threw his empty cup in the trash can by the door, taking Peter’s muffin wrapper with him. The brunette saw the boy watching him take a long sip of his coffee.
“What?” Peter made eye contact, but Harley didn’t even look away a bit.
“I can’t believe you’re still drinking that.” the blonde’s eyes widened. “Oh my God, not in like, a bad way, I just meant that the ice melted and it’s probably watery.”
Peter wasn’t offended, despite what the other thought. “Caffeine is caffeine, man. Besides, iced coffee is a blessing, no matter what state it’s in.” He decided he was done with his drink, figuring that his date was probably right, getting up to throw it away.
Harley intercepted him. “Nuh uh.” he yanked Peter’s cup from him, walking to the trash himself to throw it away. Peter jumped forward - a little too quickly for most people, but he was part spider. Kinda. - and snatched the cup back. “Hey!”
“This is mine, so I’m throwing it away.” Peter scolded.
“Come on, Darlin,” Harley frowned, grabbing Peter’s hand. Thank gods the cafe wasn’t crowded, because they were this close to making a scene. “I can throw away a cup.”
Peter furrowed his brows. “I can too, hence why I’m doing it.” he looked down to where his date was holding his hand, only now realising how close they were standing. He glanced over to the counter, where he could see the barista from earlier watching them. When she noticed him looking, she wiggled her eyebrows, and Peter looked away fast.
“-ony told me that the taller person in a relationship should do the chores, but I’m pretty sure he only says that ‘cuz he’s short as fuck.” Peter didn’t even realise Harley was speaking at first, too preoccupied with his own thoughts. “Still, I wanted to-”
He was cut off by Peter throwing his cup in the trash can over the blonde’s shoulder, with perfect aim. Honestly, he would’ve tried to hide his precision better, but then he would’ve felt bad for making a mess. “There. Done.” he turned around abruptly, purposefully trying to get some sort of rise out of Harley.
“I- how- that trash bin was like on the other side of the room!” He sat down across from Peter again, looking genuinely shocked.
“What can I say, I have good aim.” Thankfully, the other boy didn’t seem to notice that none of the leftover coffee had dripped on the ground. That would’ve been harder to explain. (His Spidey senses did a weird thing where they warned him if he was going to miss his throw, or, in this case, spill the coffee. That’s how he managed a perfect angle.)
“To be honest, when I first met you on the street, I might’ve thought you were a total nerd.” Harley said coolly. “Not that nerds aren’t still totally hot.”
Peter blushed, deciding to ignore the last comment. “What’s wrong with being smart?” he asked, challenging the other boy.
“Nah, not like that. More like, shy and dorky.”
“Dorky?”
Harley looked up at the brunette from where he was staring at his empty plate. “Yeah, like, a weeb or something.”
“Oh. Well, I’m certainly not a weeb, but I’m probably pretty much a nerd.” Peter said.
“Well, you’re not as shy as I thought you were, and you haven’t started gushing about Deku or Eren Yeager so I take that as a good sign.” he chuckled.
Peter scoffed. “I can be a dork without liking anime, Harls.” Peter leaned forward to fake a conspiratorial whisper. “I actually like Star Wars.”
“Gasp! You are a nerd!” the older boy played along immediately, which made Peter’s heart flutter. “I cannot believe I’ve been deceived! Next, you’ll tell me you’re a genuine certified genius.”
Peter froze. He didn’t liketalking about his intelligence - he always gets treated weird, used for cheating off of, and some people actually start to hate him for being so smart. It was unlikely that Harley would treat him that way, but it was always a risk. Peter recovered himself fairly quickly, but the blonde picked up on it.
“Oh my God, are you actually a certified genius? Holy shit!” Harley smiled. “I might not be a genius myself, but let the record show that Harley Keener is friends with 3 geniuses.”
Peter didn’t expect that. He’s witnessed a lot of reactions to this particular subject over the years, but never that. “Friends?” it could’ve been a serious question, so he made sure to show that he was teasing using his eyes. It’s stupid, but it worked, so suck it.
Harley smirked. Wow, he smirked a lot (he’s hot though, so who cares? Definitely not Peter). “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think a nerd just asked me out on a second date.”
Peter grinned. “And if that did just happen?”
The taller boy leaned to the middle of the table, practically nose-to-nose with the brunette. “I’d say yes.” he backed away, leaving Peter hanging. Suddenly, his eyes widened and he started laughing. “Pete, we totally forgot about 20 questions!”
Oops.