The Big Apple *Parley*

3

        Harley was about to throat punch God. Honestly, why the hell did he think that allowing Peter Parker to look like the cutest, hottest, most gorgeous person on Earth when he was wearing sweatpants was acceptable? Peter was sitting on his couch, surrounded by Harley's friends and his own, wearing a Star Wars t-shirt and grey sweatpants and looking absolutely indecent. His hair was tousled from where MJ had smacked him in the head with a pillow and his cheeks were flushed from laughing at Creed and Harley knew he was staring but there wasn't a single thing he could do about it.

Because Peter was magnetic. The doe eyed boy had his own gravitational force and even if Harley had the ability to resist it, he wouldn't. Everytime Peter turned that world shattering smile Harley's way, Harley felt his heart jump to his throat. It took all of his self control to stop himself from smiling and babbling like a moron and Kinsley knew it.

She kept looking at him with knowing eyes and annoying smirks and Harley wanted to throat punch her as well. They were all gathered at Peter's for what they had labeled "Study Night" but was actually them planning ways to mess with Tony Stark. Peter, despite his huge doe eyes and the halo that Harley swears wreaths his head, was dead set on making Tony think that he's losing his mind. "Why don't we pretend we don't know each other every time he sees us. Like, make him keep introducing us. We can get FRIDAY in on it too."

"You're evil, darlin'," Harley chuckles and Peter flashes him that priceless smile paired with rose tinted cheeks and Harley falls all over again. "What about the others?"

"Clint, Sam, Wanda, and Bucky will help. We can maybe swing Vision and Natasha but Steve and Bruce probably won't go for it," Peter frowns a bit, something Harley finds he doesn't like one bit.

Kinsley snorts. "Mess with them too. You should ask Steve where you've seen 'im before, Keener."

"God, that'd be fuckin' hilarious. I can tell him tha' he reminds me o' Troye Sivan," Haley snickers. Peter lets out a startled laugh, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth. Harley grins as he watches the way that the boy's eyes sparkle.

Kinsley elbows him harshly in the ribs. "You're drooling," she whispers teasingly.

"Shut the fuck up," Harley hisses in return. Peter's Aunt May strolls into the room, waving at the group as she passes.

" 'As anyone ever told ya that your Aunt is kinda hot?" Creed asks. " 'Cause not to be weird, but wow."

Peter levels Creed with a withering look, hazel locks falling into narrowed doe eyes. "I will kick you out of my house, Creed. Don't try me."

Creed holds up both hands in surrender and grins. "Easy, bud. No harm meant."

Peter's frown dissolves into a pout and he murmurs something about everyone hitting on his aunt and leans back onto what he had assumed to be the couch. It was not, in fact, the couch. It was Harley, who was reconsidering throat punching God as he watched pink spread across Peter's freckled cheeks. Harley slings an arm over the smaller boy's shoulders.

"Aw, if ya wanted to cuddle ya coulda just asked, sugar."

~*~

Harley was going to have a heart attack if this kept up. He hadn't thought twice about offering Peter his jacket when he spotted the goosebumps lining his bare arms, which means he hadn't thought about the sight of Peter wearing a leather jacket that was two sizes too big.

The boy was practically swimming in it, the sleeves slipping down over his fingertips and making it hard for Harley to concentrate because holy shit, he's so cute.

"Hey, Peter," a voice sounds as a girl Harley recognized from AP Calc walks up to them. "I was wondering....who's jacket is that?"

Peter blinks for a moment, surprised by the question. "This? It's Harley's!" He gestures behind him to Harley, who was leaning against the lockers, one hand in his jeans pocket and the other holding the strap of his bag. The southerner wiggles his fingers a bit in greeting, sending the girl a tight smile.

"Oh!" the girl exclaims, suddenly looking uncomfortable. "Right! You know, I just remembered that it doesn't really matter, sorry to bother you!"

"That's....fine?" Peter murmurs as the girl rushes away. "Is she ok? That was weird, right?"

Harley shoves him forward lightly and walks side by side to the cafeteria. "Super," he agrees easily. "The old man wanted us to meet today, yeah?"

"Mhm. Is it bad that I'm kinda excited to mess with Mr. Stark?" Peter asks as they make their way to their table. Harley grins and shrugs a bit.

"A little but I'm not one ta judge."

"Heya guys! Is that Harley's jacket?" Ella asks as her and MJ approach the group.

Peter nods. "Yeah, he let me borrow it 'cause it's hella cold in here. I'm gonna go get food, anyone wanna come with?"

"Yeah, I'll go," Ned says as he walks up to the table as well.

"Me too, gimme a sec," Austin adds. Peter nods and leans against the table next to Harley. Kinsley, Creed, MJ, and Ella sit as the others leave, each of them staring Harley down.

The mechanic raises an eyebrow at them. "Problem?"

"Nah, just wonderin' how long ya plan on making poor Pete wait," Creed intones casually.

"I'm getting anxiety for him," Ella snickers.

MJ nods once. "I don't usually care but seriously, just make out with him or something already."

Harley splutters, pushing out half finished denials and general statements of surprise and embarrassment. "Oh, save it, Keener. Even a blind person would be able to see the heart eyes y'all send to each other all the damn time."

"I do not-"

"Yes you do," everyone cuts him off at once. Harley huffs a bit.

Peter sets his tray down next to Harley and settles down. "What's a matter, Harls? You're pouting."

"I'm not pouting," Harley denies, pout staying firmly in place.

"Sure, cowboy," Peter giggles.

Harley gasps dramatically, heart on his chest. "You makin' fun o' my accent, darlin'?"

"Me? Never," Peter returns easily, grinning at the older boy. When Harley finally tore his eyes away from Peter, he was subject to everyone giving him the most deadpan look he'd ever seen. "Hey, Harls, is Happy picking you up today?"

Harley stops glaring at Austin in order to give Peter his undivided attention. "Yeah, why?"

Peter grins. "Awesome. He's picking me up after acadeca, we should get him in on the plan."

"Whatever you say, darlin'." Peter's cheeks tint pink and he ducks his head. Harley was definitely going to throat punch God.

"What?"

Harley leans back, unsure of when exactly he'd entered Peter's personal space, and clears his throat. "Nothin' sugar, don' worry 'bout it." Peter studies his face a moment longer before shrugging. "Now, do you wanna tell Happy or do you wan' me ta do it?"

The southerner is only barely listening as Peter immeaditly launches into his long explanation about why he should do it, entranced by the way his jacket sleeve dangeled off of Peter's thin wrist and the little noises his rings made when he made certain hand gestures. Harley wasn't sure the novelty of Peter Parker would ever wear off. He didn't want it to.