The Harley Keener Villain Complex

Behold for I spot a fucking liar

That Peter was his favourite person to see when he entered the floor surprised him. He was also the first person he saw and it was not Steve which made things better. He knew he was an asshole for showing up in black platform boots, ladder laced with a blue and purple lace respectively, a black skirt and a dark purple button down with a black leather jacket, eyeliner smudged skilfully around his eyes, making the blue pop. Was an asshole for the black lipstick that would leave smudges on the glasses of champagne he would drink because it was alcohol so he'd take it, was an asshole for making it so painfully obvious to everyone who knew him that he did not want to be there.
"Harley I didn't expect to see you here" he greeted surprised and Harley shrugged
"Yea I didn't come voluntarily" Peter nodded almost understanding of his hate of the situation, he looked cute in the dark grey washed out jeans and soft blue jumper over a checked button-down, his dark brown hair looked purposefully tousled and he looked quite in place, he carried himself as though he belonged which, he did seeing how he was spiderman.
"Hey Harley" Steve greeted friendly "Hello Peter"
"Hi captain Rogers" peter said politely which was immediately followed by
"Get off my dick Rogers" Steve sighed whilst peter looked absolutely horrified at Harley's cold attitude
"Don't you think this has been going on for long enough?" Steve asked, voice filled with nothing but good intentions and patience which set Harley off even more. He hated it when he could not get a rise out of people when he wanted to make them angry so he could scream and shout at them. He pointedly looked down at his hands and Steve followed his eyes. When he looked back at the man their eyes locked and it said more than a thousand words, but adding a few couldn't hurt.
"You tell me Steve" he spat the name like an insult "eto dolzhen byl byt' ty" Steve sighed, looking incredibly hurt. "Or me, but you're too much of a coward to admit that" He knew Harley got a kick from speaking Russian around him and pretending Steve did not understand it. He turned around and left Steve behind, Peter following closely after him, looking like he had a million questions.
"What's the deal with you and Steve?" he asked, sounding as though he was trying his best to both sound comforting and not nosy at the same time. He looked incredibly tired, his eyes were dull and Harley was quite sure he did not want to be at the gathering because, like for Harley, it was just a reminder of what he had lost.
"Ask him" he snarled, continuously walking to the opposite end of the room, hoping Peter would get the hint and back off.
"I'm guessing that was sarcasm" Peter noted drily and Harley almost grinned, just about catching himself when the corner of his mouth quirked up
"Wow You're so perceptive" he remarked snarkily "But ask him for all I care, bet you're real curious why I'm such a dick" he expected Peter to leave him alone but all the shorter boy did was shrug apathetically before gesturing to the cuff of his left sleeve
"I'm more curious about what that says" pointing at sharpie peeking out from beneath his sleeve, now, jokes and all aside, Harley did under no circumstances have any desire to explain to Peter why someone had drunkenly written charity whoreganisation on his arm.
"It says Peter Parker is a nosy little shit who can't take a fucking hint" he bit out drily before disappearing behind the one guy who was on Buzzfeed unsolved for disappearing and the blue meanie- of course he knew their names but his inherent dislike of Peter Quill's personality reduced him down to the guy whose disappearance was pretty big news that Shane and Ryan eventually spoke about. Nebula was more his speed but he had also taken a liking to the nickname so he had kept it. He moved past Susan and Reed who were accompanied by Ben and a guy around his age with sand coloured hair who carried himself in a way Harley recognized from himself which automatically put the kid on the list of people he did not want to talk to. He rushed past Nakia, T'challa, M'Baku and Shuri and only narrowly avoided Hope van Dyne or Pym, he did not particularly care which one it really was, Scott lang plus child and Hank Pym before he finally reached a corner mostly outside the bulk of people from which he could watch. Well- observe sounded less- illegal. For such a large group conversation was incredibly quiet, every single individual looked as thoroughly fucked in the worst way and about as tired as he felt.
The collective energy seemed at the bare minimum and it was very clear that people were still fighting constant battles with the repercussions of the battle or the loss on top of it. It wasn't that everyone was crying, wailing, sobbing and screaming, but with a single look he could tell that each of them was suffering. Pepper had done a good thing, bringing people together as a reminder that they were not alone, they would never again be alone if they accepted to see themselves part of the superhero collective. That they would be there for one another. It was that precise sentiment that had made Harley want to stay away. It wasn't the he minded solitude, but being reminded that he was wrong, misplaced and did not belong, partially because it was factually correct, partially because of his own doing, was never a nice thing.
He stood with his arms crossed, letting his eyes wander back and forth, seeking out faces and stumbling across new ones he needed to categorize. Peter was speaking to who he assumed to be Jonathan Storm- the arrogant one with sand coloured hair, Clint was with Wanda and Laura, his three brats and someone who looked a suspicious amount like Kate Bishop who was conversing with Wanda. He had never had much of a connection to her though, from all the avengers, she was the closest to his age- he had absolutely no clue how old she really was, he knew Natasha and Clint had taken a liking to her and tutored her in whatever they came up with, Clint had made some comment about her and high school so she was probably in her early twenties which was as good as his guesses would get. They had had a few interactions during which Harley had decided that she was nice enough though not necessarily his kind of person. Then again- who was his kind of person if not heartless cynical assholes who did not ask questions.
He was half way tempted to seek out Clint, it wasn't that he liked the man any particular amount, he just found solace in the apathetic comfort clint brought him- the kind of person who would make fun of him for crying before handing him a gun to kill whoever was responsible for his pain. Maybe he liked Clint a bit. Maybe he appreciated that they could relate to one another even if it was for absolutely terrible reasons. Maybe he found comfort in the one man who had known him since he was ten, and was not yet dead. So maybe he did like clint- but certainly not enough for him to voluntarily approach him though.
"You're Harley, right?" an unfamiliar voice asked before him with an accent he could not quite place. When he looked before himself he found himself looking down at Princess Shuri of Wakanda, the nineteen years old was objectively pretty and just from the way her lip was curled up he believed every rumour he had heard about her having 'crackhead energy'. He had once been excited to meet her, but that time had long passed and he wanted nothing more than making her leave.
"Congratulations you made an observation princess. Now you can leave and have epiphanies elsewhere" he snarled, already continuing his observation of the crowd, not particularly bothered if she was annoyed with him or if she had already left, his attention was focused for the most part on Sam who looked like he was making his way over to him.