Would You Miss Me? || parley

Part 5

today I had technical difficulties and missed all 4 of my classes, and I can't access the homework so that was today's mini breakdown

Online school sucks big juicy ass

well anyway

TW: homophobia, mentions of death

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel.

3rd Person P.O.V.

The boys sat in silence for a moment, Peter staring down at his lap awkwardly. Harley stood up, carrying the smaller boy to bed. He sat with his legs crossed, facing Peter, who had wrapped a blanket around his bare shoulders.

"Alright. Now I want to hear an explanation." The brunette grimaced, avoiding eye contact.

"Well," he sighed. "I'm Spiderman."

"Obviously," Harley chuckled.

"How did you know I wasn't a cosplayer?" Harley raised an eyebrow in amusement.

"You came in through the window. On the 37th floor."

"Right... anyway, I was just on patrol, this kinda thing happens a lot," Peter shrugged. The southern boy stared with amazement.

"So... why do you live here? Are you an Avenger?" Peter immediately closed off, crossing his arms and looking to the side.

"No."

"Are you Tony's son?"

"No."

"Why do you live here then?" Harley questioned, genuine curiosity in his voice.

"I don't want to talk about it." The blond nodded, frowning.

"If I tell you why I'm here, would you tell me?" That caught Peter's attention.

"Depends," the smaller boy stated.

"Alright... well, um." Harley took a deep breath, closing his eyes. Why did he trust this boy so much? They hadn't known each other more than a couple hours. "I'm from Tennessee. And, well, not everyone there is... very accepting." Peter looked up slightly. "My mom is one of those people. I didn't expect her to get so upset over it..."

"Over what?" The brunette had a hunch, but he wanted Harley to confirm it.

"I'm gay." He looked down at his lap, voice suddenly quieter. "They kicked me out... this was the only place I knew I was welcome." Peter finally looked up at Harley, both boys meeting eyes. The southern boy's crystal blue eyes were filled with tears.

"I'm sorry," Peter whispered. Harley nodded, sniffing and wiping his eyes.

"It's ok." He paused for a moment. "Will you tell me why you're here?" Peter tensed up. He couldn't not tell Harley, not after that story.

"Ok." His voice was barely above a whisper. "Well... I lived with my aunt and uncle, in Queens. My uncle... he died in a robbery. The same day I got my powers. I could've done something, but I didn't, and now..." Peter got a little choked up, Harley scooting closer to the smaller boy. He placed a gentle hand on the brunette's knee, trying to offer comfort.

"It's not your fault." Peter closed his eyes.

"It was just me and my aunt May. We were always short on money, but we made it work. She had a lot of health issues..." Harley tilted his head. "She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer." The blond's eyes widened. "She got really sick, so fast. I was scared to visit her towards the end because she just looked so..." Silent tears streamed down the brunette's cheeks. "She looked dead. I should've... I should've spent more time with her." His voice broke at the end, putting his head in his hands. Harley rubbed circles into Peter's back, moved to tears himself.

"You can't blame yourself, ok? It's not your fault," the southern boy insisted. Peter shook his head, face red and splotchy.

"I lived alone in our apartment for a few days before Tony came and got me." The brunette wiped his eyes. "He told me I could live here with him." Harley nodded, still rubbing circles into Peter's back.

"It's ok, it's ok," he comforted. The brunette let himself lean into Harley's side, both boys relishing the contact. They sat in silence for a few moments, Peter sniffling and rubbing his eyes.

"Sorry." He leaned away from the southern boy, staring down at his lap.

"Hey," Harley smiled gently. "Don't be sorry. I don't mind." Peter had the smallest of smiles on his face, but that was a win in Harley's book. "Actually, do you want to spend the night in my room? It's my first night here."

"If you want, sure." The blond grinned, before a thought crossed his mind.

"Do you need anything?"

"I can get it myself," Peter shrugged, moving to stand up. Harley grabbed his wrist, eyes unsure.

"You just got shot," he stated. "Just let me help you." Peter sighed, moving back into his spot on the bed, wrapping the blanket around himself.

"Fine. Maybe some clothes? Loose ones?" Harley nodded, grabbing a hoodie from his closet, and a pair of big sweatpants he had brought from Tennessee. He tossed them at Peter, not seeing the hot flush darken the smaller boy's cheeks.

Once Peter had gotten Harley's clothes on, he made a show of how big they were on him. He kicked his (unbandaged) leg, watching the extra fabric flop around. Peter looked to the blond with a look of amazement.

"How are you possibly this tall?" Harley chuckled.

"6'1, darlin'. Puberty hits some of us harder than others, hmm?" As soon as the words left his mouth, Harley regretted them. Yeah, throwing insults at Peter might not be the best way to get the boy to like him.

"Shut up, at least I'm not freakishly tall," Peter retorted, crossing his arms playfully. Harley grinned. Maybe this wouldn't be as hard as he expected.

my head hurts ugh