Falling for Harley Keener was unexpected.
It was warm cheeks that never seemed to be anything other than pink. And it was soft looks, and touches. Falling for Harley brought a level of comfort to Peter. He was more open, more willing to talk to people, to move on from his traumas, because he felt he could never be with Harley if he was still hung up on the past. Loving Harley Keener was warm, and cozy, stealing his sweaters and feeling safe.
Telling Harley Keener was another thing completely.
Peter knew, he knew that Harley was also into him. Everyone knew that they liked each other. It was common knowledge. Peter, the soft coloured, over-sized clothing, flower picking boy was loved by Harley. And Harley, the rough edges, southern twang, skinny jeans and leather jackets with flannels was loved by Harley. Neither of them acting on their feelings. Just dancing around it. Laughing whenever friends called them out in front of each other. Keeping physical contact for slightly too long. They were always near each other, never wanting to be out of sight for too long.
Everyone believed that Harley would be the first one to voice his interest in Peter. Everyone thought Harley would be the one to ask Peter out. And Peter waited for Harley to make the first move, it just felt right for Harley to initiate their relationship. But Harley didn’t. And he still didn’t. And he didn’t. Peter was getting impatient.
Then one day at dinner with everyone sitting at the table, all the Avengers, Pepper, May, MJ and Ned. Peter cracked. But it was supposed to be okay. Because Peter liked Harley and Harley liked Peter. They would end up together. But they didn’t.
“Harley.” Peter’s voice held an air of authority, demanding Harley’s attention, and gaining the rare silence from the rest of the table. “I really like you, and I would like to go on a date with you this weekend.”
No one expected Peter to ask Harley out. Especially in front of their little family. The anxious boy put himself out there and didn’t ramble or stutter. He was confident because he knew Harley liked him back.
“No thanks. Sorry Peter.” Harley’s voice was firm but still casual, as he shrugged and popped some broccoli into his mouth.
“Oh, no it’s okay, if you have plans we could-”
“No, Peter, I don’t think you understand. I don’t want to date you.”
Harley held eye contact with Peter as he said those word, watching Peter’s heart break, his face fall, and the spark in those honey-brown, all answers to the universe eyes, die. He watched how the confidence Peter had been growing these last few months fell, and how Peter held himself the way he used to, arms crossed over his chest to hug himself, shoulders low and forward, eyes falling to the closest thing in front of himself.
“I-I’m sorry. S-sorry. I didn’t- I didn’t know. Sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m just- just gonna go for a walk. I’ll be back in half. I’m sorry, Harley. I didn’t real-ize. Sorry.”
Peter got up from the table- food untouched- keeping himself small, and exiting the tower. Everyone at the table was silent, surprised by the rejection. Everyone was sure that Peter and Harley would end up together, they were so sure, and it didn’t happen. Harley rejected Peter, and nobody knew what to say or what to do.
…
A half hour turned to be an hour, which turned to be three. Peter wasn’t answering his phone, wasn’t responding to any texts. Never said he’d be out late. Tony and May couldn’t contact Peter, couldn’t even track Peter and they began to worry.
Three hours turned into a night. A night turned into finding Peter’s phone and shoes in a park, with a signal jammer attached to them, and some dried blood. And a night turned into three month of searching for Peter. Three months of trying to find a boy who left the tower heartbroken and with his guards down unable to fight his attackers.
Harley didn’t know it would hurt so much.
Three months and six day’s later Peter was found. He was covered in bruises, and cuts, nearly unrecognizable, no part of his being being the actual colour of his skin. Peter was found delirious from the torture he’d been through, hardly aware of his own name, barely recognizing Tony or May.
After some time of healing, Peter learnt who Tony and May were, remembered enough of them to know that he was loved by them, that they were safe. Sometimes Peter would even have flashes of Ned. But he didn’t remember anyone else. Peter didn’t even remember himself.
He couldn’t remember his life before, could hardly remember his life during. Only remembering his life after his abduction. Peter wasn’t much of himself anymore. He wasn’t who he was before, he was a whole new person really.
Peter was no longer soft colours and over sized clothes. He wore dark ripped skinny jeans and instead of old beat up sneakers he wore vans or converse. He worse his hair differently, no longer soft untamed curls, but a perfectly tamed quiff. He work black eyeliner, and got a septum piercing. His smile was more like a smirk at best. Peter drank alcohol and smoked weed, found new friends and was always found with someone under his arm. New Peter looked dangerous and people found him hot. Flash even got along with Peter.
But the thing Harley cared about the most was that Peter didn’t like Harley. Not anymore at least.
Harley didn’t like that Peter didn’t like him.
“Why don’t you like me?” Harley finally asks on one of the rare occasions that him and Peter are left alone.
Peter looks Harley over, his face set in a frown- the frowning was new too, everybody missed Peter’s contagious smiles- and his eyes were hardening.
“You’re not my type.” Peter responds with a shrug.
“Well, I was your type before.”
Harley feels defensive. He’s ready to fight. He doesn’t like this new Peter, (but he still loves him). He want’s Peter to be into him. He want’s Peter.
“Okay. Were we together then?”
Peter is now invested as much as he could be into this conversation. He doesn’t want to be seen a cheater, but he doesn’t remember his old life. No memory of who he’s supposed to be.
“Well, no.” Harley sighs.
“So you just want to fuck then? You might not be my type but you’ve still got a great piece of ass.” Peter chuckles, getting up to move closer to Harley, he’s already started to take his belt off. “You gotta say yes, baby, got to know that’s what you want. I’m not gonna kiss you unless you consent. It’s all up to you.” Peter’s voice has dropped dangerously low, and Harley can feel Peter’s warm breath on his neck, and it’s so hot, but he can’t, he couldn’t.
“No. That’s not what I want Peter. I want you to like me back!” Harley is shouting now. He misses Peter. He misses how they worked together, how they were able to have conversations without ever speaking. He misses Peter wearing his clothing. Harley misses Peter.
“I don’t want to date you, Harley.”
Peter is backing away now. Fastening his belt again. Harley is feeling his heart clench at those very same words he said all those months ago, wondering if this is what it felt for Peter. Wondering if saying those very same words were the reason for Peter’s kidnapping.
“I didn’t want that either.” Harley whispers.
“So what the fuck do you want? You complain that I don’t like you, you don’t want to fuck, you don’t want to date, you just want me to be into you? That’s pretty sick. I know I’m messed up, but I’m dealing with it Harley. I’m in therapy. But you what? Want me to be into you so you can just string me along and never actually act of that shit? That’s possessive as fuck. Was it good for your ego before, when I was into you before everything? They were telling me I tried asking you out and you rejected me, it must of felt real good. I was probably such a pushover. Must of felt nice knowing I would have done anything for you and you never needed any commitment. Well Fuck You Harley Keener.”
Peter stormed out before Harley could say anything. He mourned the loss of Peter, the loss of his best friend and the man he loved. Harley was incredibly sad to have lost Peter before he was ever ready to be with Peter. Harley finds himself grieving for losing Peter when Peter wasn’t ever his to lose.
Tony finds Harley unable to leave his bed for a week. Harley finds himself in therapy too.
…
Nearly a year later things came back to Peter. A year of Peter fighting, with walls to protect his walls to protect himself, a year of being post-kidnapping Peter, and he come’s back to himself. Not easily. He’s Peter Parker. Remember could never come easy to him.
Peter was hit by a car. Not very hard. It was in a Walmart parking lot. An old man reversed into Peter, knocking Peter to the ground, causing him to hit his head. Peter laid there screaming as his whole body burned, holding his head. He spoke in tongues unable to make sense of what was going on. Everything was bright and burning. Blood oozed were his head split open a bit. People around him were on edge watching this boy thrash on the ground screaming like he’d been plunged into poison.
Tony and a med-team showed up faster than anyone could have expecting collect Peter into their vehicle and sedating him.
Peter woke up hours later disoriented and confused. Tony and May are both asleep by his bed side, and he doesn’t understand, he’s so confused. His brain feels like mush and memories feel brand new again. He knows who he’s been recently isn’t who he wants to be. But he doesn’t know if he is who he once was either.
Peter starts to cry and Tony and May wake up to find their boy. To find soft open eyes instead of the closely guarded ones they’d grown accustomed too. They found Peter open and honest and scared.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t know why you guys let me act like that. I think I remember everything, I don’t know. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for how I’ve been.”
Tony and May are quick to comfort Peter, to coo at him and make him feel warm. They finally have their boy back, though a hurt one who still has some of the mannerisms he’d gained from the year, he’s still Peter too.
…
Harley and Peter are back in their limbo. Peter likes Harley and Harley likes Peter. Peter is guarded to others but soft to those he’s closest too. He wears over sized clothing when he’s looking for comfort and ripped up jeans and vans. His eyes hold the answers to the universe, soft and warm and his septum piercing offsets the look of innocence he only seems to lose when he’s uncomfortable. Peter wears leather jackets and drinks alcohol but he also picks flowers for all his friends. Harley is rough edges and a southerner twang. He’s skinny jeans with leather jackets and flannels. Harley is happy dances and platonic cuddles.
Harley loves Peter who loves Harley.
And maybe now they can work.