Chapter 1
Harley never understood how Pepper could break up with Tony because he was iron man.
It just didn’t seem like a real thing- after all why would you break up with a superhero? And one as cool as Tony!
So he never understood.
He understood that they eventually found their way to each other again, and that Pepper looked away whenever he donned the armor and looked close to tears whenever he got in a battle. He never really understood that either. Shouldn’t she be proud and happy that her husband was a superhero and savior?
So he never understood, at all.
Until Peter.
Beautiful, amazing, reckless, selfless Peter. Peter who made him laugh. Peter who grinned at him like a trouble maker and convinced the rest of the world he wasn’t. Peter who knew all of Harley’s favorite songs. Peter who tried to cook him pasta on their first date but ended up setting the noodles on fire. Peter who was Spider-Man.
He was proud of Peter. Of course he was. Peter was a hero. A Spider-Man. One of the best people in the world.
But he was also so so so fucking afraid.
The morning of the fight, he woke up alone.
It wasn’t the first time he woke up alone. Despite them having moved in together when they went to college, despite them sharing a bed, patrols always kept Peter away. From home. From him.
And he was fine with that. Just a little tired of it. Especially because today was the one day it should have been.
He sighed, stumbling out of bed, calling to an empty apartment, “Morning Peter.”
The apartment stayed quiet.
Harley made breakfast anyway.
Peter came home through the window, and Harley huffed, “How many times have I told you to use the door?”
“Every time I come home,” Peter huffed, pulling off his mask, coming to kiss Harley on the cheek, “Man I’m gonna head to bed- and then go back on patrol.”
“Oh,” Harley turned to him, slightly hurt, “You sure?”
“Yep.”
“Is there anything your forgetting?”
“Nope,” Peter signed, “Already emailed my professors about being sick.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah?”
“So there’s nothing else your forgetting, just to make sure.”
“I mean,” He shrugged, moving past Harley to take the bacon out of the pan, putting it in a napkin, “I don’t think so? But I need some sleep, and then I need to bust this drug ring.”
“Peter,” Harley hesitates, “As much as I love you being Spider-Man, are you sure you should be doing that?”
“Why wouldn’t I be doing that?”
He deadpanned, “Last month you got shot.”
“Perks of the job.”
“Okay, um,” Harley shoved him out of the way, taking back the spatula and cracking an egg in the leftover bacon grease, “That’s not at all how that should work. At all.”
“It is what it is, Harley.”
He turned to face Peter, frown etched on his lips, “Do not get snappy with me, Parker. I’m saying that because I don’t want my boyfriend getting shot.”
“Well I don’t want to be shot,” Peter was getting short with him, huffy and snappy. He was probably tired but Harley... Harley didn’t know how to feel, “You forget I’m the one who has to get shot over and over again until these guys are out of my city-“
“You sound like the fucking Arrow,” The statement might have been a joke, but his tone was deadly serious, “And don’t you fucking forget that I was the one who has to watch my boyfriend in a coma for two days while your super healing did it’s thing and had to lie to everyone,” he gritted the word out, “That cared about you, that you were just sick.”
“You’re still not the one who gets fucking shot, Harley!”
“Yeah but I’m the one who has to watch you fucking kill yourself on one hour of sleep while you take on every fucking small thing!” Harley knew he was over reacting, knew he was taking things to far, but he couldn’t stop his mouth, “I’m the one who has to wake up alone every morning because you are to busy being Spider-Man to be here for me! I’m the one who can’t fucking watch the news because what if it’s reporting your death! I’m the one who puts everything aside to fucking support you even when it means something to me! I’m the one who has to watch you get shot!”
Peter stared at him, concerned eyes and a taught expression. It was only then Harley realized he was verging in tears, “Fuck Peter, you don’t take care of yourself because Spider-Man has to take care of everyone else! And I hate watching you break down because you won’t!”
“Harley-“
“Don’t,” He turned off the stove, uncaring that the eggs were done cooking. He couldn’t see much past the white spots in his vision, “Don’t, Peter.”
“Harley-“
“Are you sure you had nothing else to look foreword to today?”
The question startled Peter, “What- I don’t understand.”
Harley looked at him again, finally letting tears slip. Peter was tearing up to. He let out a quiet sigh, “Its our three year Anniversary, Peter.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” Harley huffed, slipping out of the kitchen and to the bedroom where he slammed the door, “Yeah, Oh.”
“Harley-“
“Sleep on the couch, asshole, I don’t wanna talk to you right now.”
“...okay. I love you.”
“I wish you loved me as much as you loved being a hero,” Harley whispered, knowing damn well Peter could probably hear him through the door, “I wish I was as important so you could stay alive.”
He never understood Pepper.
Until he did.