It's a Spider Thing. {Peter Parker and Natasha Romanoff}

{18} i swing that way... for you

THE WORLD TILTED for Peter once he had assured himself that Harley was very much intact and not a pancake on the road behind them.

Now he was stumbling over his own feet and trying to suck in a single breath- Harley looked worried as he tentatively reached for Peter, eyes wide. People pushed past the two teens on the sidewalk, oblivious to one of them flinching when their arms brushed his own. Everyone and everything were blurring together except for Harley who had forced himself into Peter's line of view and now gripped his shoulders- at least Peter thought they were his hands; he was more preoccupied with the ache behind his eyes from the light and the ringing in his ears from the honking cars and the chatter that seemed to be reaching a crescendo to pay much attention.

Frantically, Peter pulled his headphones on and clamped his hands over them, squeezing his eyes shut and feeling Harley steer him down a random alley.

Car, car, car, car. The word whirled in Peter's mind- no accident.

He had recognized the make immediately; he'd been inside vehicles exactly like it- driven to and from missions that were in public places. Too, too familiar. Gotta run, run, run. His sense was screaming danger, throwing out signal after signal to bolt. To run as fast as he could and as far as he could until his lung gave in from exhaustion. Peter still had nightmares about climbing into that vehicle with the blood of strangers splattered across his face in droplets, with bleeding knuckles and the occasional stab wound. He couldn't go back. He didn't want to go back.

Every fibre of Peter's being had demanded he run from the street; instead, he simply shut down.

Panicked, Harley watched Peter stumble back into the brick wall and sink to the floor between trash bags and a mouldy mattress, heaving in broken breaths that rattled through his chest. Not knowing what else to do, he dug his hand into Peter's pocket and pulled out a phone before quickly dialling the number called, 'Tasha'- it was the one with the most calls in the very short contact list.

"Definitely not suspicious." Harley muttered, trying to cover his nerves.

There was a dial tone before a woman's voice, "Hey Peter." Harley was 70% sure he had heard it before, give or take 12%. He discarded the thought for a moment.

"Erm. I'm Peter's friend-"

"Is he okay?" Her voice lost its warmth and turned hard once she realised that it wasn't Peter on the other end of the line. Now Harley was 80% sure he had heard the voice before; it was eerily familiar, but he cast away the thought for a second time; he had more important things to worry about, like the teenager going catatonic beside him.

"I think he's having an anxiety attack. I'm not sure-"

"Text me the address." She ordered, and Harley could hear her moving around before she hung up.

For a moment, he stared at the phone before shaking his head and quickly messaging their location, thankful for the nearby street sign that hung at the end of the alley. Then he turned back to Peter- he was grabbing fistfuls of his jumper, scrunching it up around his chest as though he couldn't breathe or drag enough air into his lungs. Instinctively, Harley forced Peter's hands into his own, making the teen's eyes blink open at the warmth that radiated from them. Peter was freezing.

Noticing Peter's eyes open, Harley offered a smile that barely hid his relief at Peter meeting his eyes.

-

The first thing Natasha noticed as she walked down the alley was a familiar face crouched in front of Peter who was practically clinging onto his hands.

"Romanoff." Harley commented, eyes widening slightly when he spotted the redhead.

"Keener." Nat fired back, ignoring the look he was shooting in her direction as she kneeled beside Peter- her hand moving to rest gently on his arm.

Peter stiffened at the sudden contact and his eyes flicked to Natasha. His mouth opened wordlessly before snapping shut again and tears sprung to his eyes. The woman was already moving forwards when he crashed into her, sobbing. Harley blinked in shock at the way the assassin cradled his head, features drawn into an expression resembling concern as she rocked them back and forth.

After a minute, her eyes trailed back to Harley who was studying the duo. "I don't understand-"

"Not my place to say." She said, words carefully selected.

Harley frowned and moved to argue but was silenced as Natasha promptly cut him off.

"You can't tell Stark. Not yet." Peter's sobs quietened and only his ragged breathing could be heard from him as they spoke over his head. "Look." She said, noticing a mutinous gleam beginning to grow in Harley's eyes- she partly admired it and partly hated it. "If not for me then for Peter, it's his choice. Don't take that from him. Just, give him a few days." It was a silent promise for an unspoken agreement- Harley hesitantly nodded, rocking back on his heels.

Carefully, Natasha stood with Peter tucked inside her arms.

He took in a deep breath and shrugged off the headphones much to her dismay. He blinked at her, and they had a silent conversation before Natasha nodded minutely and wandered back to the main street, sparing one final glance back at Harley who gulped as her eyes landed on him.

Peter turned to Harley, looking thoroughly exhausted. "I'm... sorry." He breathed.

The teen's focus had been on Peter's red rimmed eyes and the way his chest juddered from his hitched breathing; it took a few moments for Peter's words to register.

"What? You don't have to apologise. Nothing was your fault, Pete."

Peter scoffed, looking down at the ground. "It was a lousy first meeting towards the end." He kicked a stray can and even that drained the last of his energy and sent a spike of pain through his head as it clattered. Laughter crept past Harley's lip and Peter smiled at the sound. It was, nice. Then he felt a warm hand wipe away a stray tear.

"First half was brilliant. And it might not be the best end to a date but... there's worse ways." Harley shrugged, "I'm glad you're alright though-"

"Date?" Peter questioned, face burning red again for the millionth time that afternoon.

Another laugh escaped as Harley hunched forwards a little, turning nervous for a brief second. It made Peter's lip quirk. "Yeah? If you don't swing that way that's fine-"

"I swing." Peter laughed to himself and at the accidental pun before adding, "That way... for you."

He said, frowning at the wording of his sentence- he wasn't sure about anyone else or what else he liked, but he knew he liked Harley Keener. And that was enough for now.

"Awesome." Harley beamed, brightening. "We can text later. Just, take it easy darlin'." He added, relishing in the sight of Peter looking anywhere but at him.

"I better go back to 'Tasha." Peter explained slowly, stepping back, "I promise we'll talk."

Harley nodded, watching Peter slide on the headphones again and exit the alley- Harley barely contained his grin as he took in a deep breath and started the walk back to the tower. 

A/N

Did the parley ship happen quick- possibly, potentially, maybe. However- do I care? Because that happens in real life sometimes and it just seems weird in fanfiction.

Anywho! Let me know of any spelling mistakes! xoxo.