“I’m gonna go sleep in my room,” Peter mumbled, rubbing a hand over his tired face as he pulled on a t-shirt, shaking out his curls.
Harley looked up at him with wide eyes. “Did I do something wrong?”
Peter caught himself. “What? No- no, god, sorry. I just- I’ve got a killer stomach ache, and I don’t want to wake you up if I have to go to the bathroom or something,” he said sheepishly.
Harley’s eyes softened in sympathy. “You think you might throw up?” he asked, crossing over to his boyfriend and wrapping his arms around him comfortingly.
Peter buried his face into the taller boy’s chest.
“No,” he sighed. “It just- really hurts. I- I just can’t tell if it’s gonna go away on its own or, you know, try to make an exit.”
Harley rubbed a hand over the boy’s back soothingly. “You don’t have to worry about waking me up, darlin’. I don’t want you to be on your own if you’re in pain.”
Peter, who had melted into his boyfriend’s chest, gave a small nod before tensing up with a cut-off grunt as his stomach cramped.
Harley wrapped his arms tighter around him until he began to relax once more.
“How about we lay down, huh?” he hummed into the boy’s hair.
Peter just nodded again as Harley led him to the king-sized bed.
As they climbed into the bed, Harley pulled the younger boy close and pressed a kiss into his hair as he settled against his chest.
“You’re sure it’s not something serious?” Harley worried, squeezing his arm.
“I’m sure. My diet’s not been too great this week and I think I’m just- paying for it,” he grunted. “Jesus.”
Harley hummed as he held his boyfriend close. “You’re alright, darlin’, breathe through it.”
Peter took a shaky breath as he pulled away and wrapped an arm around his stomach, “Fuck.”
Harley pressed his forehead into Peter’s neck, moving to put his hand underneath his t-shirt and warmly rub his hand across his stomach.
Peter immediately began to relax under his boyfriend’s hand. “That- that feels good,” he breathed.
Harley just hummed into his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Try to get some rest, darlin’,” he mumbled, repeating the same soothing motion until eventually Peter’s breathing evened out, and Harley’s arm stilled on his boyfriend’s bloated stomach.
Harley jolted awake to Peter grunting beside him, his forehead pressed into the mattress in a vague attempt at keeping quiet.
“Pete? Darlin’? Everything okay?” Harley asked wearily, resting a hand on his back.
Peter shifted his weight with a grunt before they heard it. A low rumbling that started off quiet before slowly getting loud enough to shake the bed they lay in.
Harley couldn’t suppress the snort of laughter before the smell hit him. “Oh- oh, Jesus.”
The overwhelming feeling of relief caused Peter to moan as the pain in his guts cleared.
“I’m not even sorry,” he chuckled breathlessly, bearing down to release another short expulsion of gas.
Harley slid away from him, being careful to not lift the comforter. “Do you feel better now at least?”
Peter pushed back onto his knees, stretching his spine, which elicited yet another deep, drawn out fart.
“I do,” Peter’s eyes opened to look at him as something in his stomach shifted again. “Or at least I will after I wreck your bathroom,” he said devilishly, sliding off the bed.
“Hey! You have your own bathroom to destroy!” Harley called, but couldn’t stifle his laughter at Peter winking at him before closing the door.
“You’re the one who didn’t want me to be alone, you have to deal with the consequences!” Peter called back.