Work Text:
1.
Harley hadn’t even realized that Peter had fallen asleep until he heard light snoring coming from the mouth of the brunette. His head was on Harley’s chest, Harley’s arms were wrapped around him, and he was out like a light, even though they were only halfway through the movie.
Harley both wanted to laugh and cry, because while it was almost amusing how quickly Peter could fall asleep once he was relaxed, he hated how his superhero lifetstyle took such a toll on him that had him falling into such an exhausted sleep so deeply.
Peter had even been the one to pick out the movie today because it was technically his birthday today. Not that it had ended up mattering when there was some sort of terrorist attack at the airport and Spider-Man had to go and diffuse the situation. Peter hadn’t been hurt, thankfully, but bouncing around for hours and webbing up bad guys took a heavy toll on his boyfriend, he knew that all too well.
Harley paused the movie and shut the computer, quietly setting it on the floor next to his bed. He began moving Peter so he was laying down more than sitting up, and as he did so Peter turned toward him, mumbling incoherently under his breath.
“What was that, sweetheart?” Harley teased, knowing full well that Peter was asleep.
However, to his surprise, Peter opened his mouth a little more and said for the first time, “Karen, how do you know if you’re in love?”
Harley’s eyes widened at the sudden admission. “Peter? Are you awake?”
“I think I might love Harley, Karen.” Peter’s eyes didn’t open, he just snuggled closer to Harley and resumed snoring like nothing had been said.
Harley’s heart was racing, and he stared out into the darkness, far more awake then he had been moments previous.
“Peter?” he whispered again, but the boy didn’t stir. So Harley turned his head, chin brushing the top of Peter’s head. “Okay,” he said shakily, the words replaying in his mind over and over. A smile was growing on his face, and his heart felt warm. “Happy birthday, sweetheart."
2.
“I’m sorry, Harley,” Peter said, resting his head against the lab counter. The tool in his hand slipped from his fingers, clattering on the couch. “I really can’t focus right now. I’m sorry. I think I need to take a breather.”
“Maybe take a nap,” Tony suggested, busy with his own project on the other side of the lab. “That’s what the couch is for, really. I use it for naps all the time.”
Harley shot Peter a look, remembering the time they had been left in this lab unsupervised. Peter’s face flushed, but he looked a little too tired to care..
“It’s a good couch,” Tony said for emphasis, patting the arm. “It’s really comfy.”
“It sure is,” Harley muttered, a little salaciously, not even a little bit surprised when Peter kicked him in the ankle, though he did make a hurt noise.
Peter nodded in resignation, eyes drooping. “Yeah, I’ll go take a nap,” he mumbled, brushing his lips against Harley’s cheek before dragging himself to the couch, flopping on his back and staring up at the ceiling. Tony switched the music over to some calmer guitar songs, and within just a few minutes Harley could hear Peter’s light snores over the guitar.
“Did you know he talks in his sleep sometimes?” Harley asked, flinching as a shower of sparks shot up.
“Lower the voltage,” Tony reminded Harley. “But, yeah, I’ve heard him talk once or twice. Sometimes he just garbles nonsense, though one time he gave me a sandwich order, but I don’t know where to.”
“Delmars, probably,” Harley said. “So you think he’s just talking nonsense? It doesn’t mean anything?”
Tony shrugged. “Who knows? It might. It might not. Why?”
Harley looked back at his work. “I don’t know. Just. He was talking in his sleep the other night.”
“Did you understand what he said?” Tony asked.
“He said-”
“No, Ned, you can’t tell him.”
Tony and Harley freeze, turning toward Peter’s sleeping form simultaneously.
“I think he has full conversations,” Harley explains. “Last time he was talking to Karen.”
“Fascinating,” Tony said, stroking the end of his goatee with one hand. “What did he say last time?”
“What if he doesn’t love me back?”
Even asleep, Peter’s voice was so broken, so pitiful that Harley’s heart hurt just hearing it. Peter’s face tensed in his sleep, forehead wrinkling. Tony was looking at Harley, mouth agape. Harley nodded. “Yeah. He said something like that the other time too.”
“Well, do you?”
Harley looked at Peter, watched his face smooth out as he mumbled. “You’re right, Ned, of course, you’re right.”
“Of course I do,” he said simply, like it was obvious. And it had always been obvious, hadn’t it? Harley couldn’t imagine not loving Peter, it was like imagining a world without the sun.
Peter turned in his sleep, muttering something Harley couldn’t decipher, and he smiled fondly as he watched the person he loved sleep soundly.
3.
Peter got nightmares. That wasn’t unusual. Sometimes they were about the people he fought, sometimes about the people he saved- or couldn’t save. Harley could no longer count the number of times he had to reassure Peter that Tony, Aunt May, or even himself was still alive and well.
But this- this was something different entirely.
Harley awoke to Peter shuddering and shaking, telltale signs of a nightmare. Harley turned on the overhead light, blanket sliding off his chest as he sat up. He reached for Peter to try and wake him up, but Peter’s words still him in his tracks.
“I’m sorry, please don’t leave me.”
Harley’s breath caught in his throat.
“I’ll take it back, I didn’t- I don’t mean it, I’m sorry.”
“Peter,” Harley murmured, trying to shake him awake from whatever new horror he was facing.
“Please don’t hate me, Harley, but I can’t- I can’t help it.” Peter’s eyes were still screwed shut, deep in sleep. “I love you, I’m so sorry,” he gasped in one breath, drawing in tighter on himself.
“Oh, Peter, darlin’.” Peter had never been able to hear Harley before, but that didn’t stop Harley from trying now. “Peter, I do love you. I would never hate you. I love you. I love you so much, sweetheart.”
He didn’t know how much Peter would remember the next day, but as he hugged Peter close and whispered affirmations of his love to him over and over, Peter slowly stopped trembling. He relaxed in Harley’s arms, and eventually, Harley was able to fall asleep as well, though quite a bit of worry still hung in his mind as he slept.
The next morning, though Peter gave no indication that last night had ever happened. They both woke around the same time, and once Peter’s eyes were open Harley leaned in to give Peter a deep kiss, pressing him back into the bed.
“Bleh, morning breath,” Peter teased, a twinkle in his eyes lighting up his sleepy features.
“Are you okay now?” Harley asked, stroking Peter’s face with one hand.
Peter hummed as he leaned into it. “Of course I’m okay. I’m with you.”
Harley's heart stuttered, and his smile must have faltered because worry entered Peter’s eyes and he continued with, “Did I have another nightmare last night?”
“Yeah, you did,” Harley said softly. Then, “Do you remember any of it?”
“No,” Peter said, too quickly. Harley could see the apprehension on his face but pretended not to notice when Peter shifted ever so slightly away from him.
“That’s okay,” Harley said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Peter’s cheek, leaning against him. “You’re okay.”
Peter nuzzled into his neck. “I’m still sleepy, Harley,” he sighed, yawning against his collarbone. “I don’t want to get up yet.”
“You don’t have to, baby,” Harley said, shifting so they were lying more comfortably. “You can stay here as long as you want.”
Peter’s arm reached up and wrapped around his waist. “Stay here with me?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you,” Peter breathed. “I…”
His voice caught slightly, and Harley knew the other boy could hear his heart pounding. Silence stretched between them, and then Peter was back asleep again.
“Me too, Peter,” Harley said, pressing a kiss to the top of his curls. “Me too.”
+1
Harley was pacing back and forth, fingers curling in the hem of his shirt to keep them steady at his side. He had crossed the room five, ten times, maybe? He had lost count at this point, but all he knew what that it had been too damn long.
At any flicker of movement his head jerked up toward the closed door where, behind the walls, his boyfriend was currently getting stitched back together.
Harley thought he might throw up. Maybe he should stop walking.
He sunk down into a chair, putting his head beneath his knees to try and steady his breathing. This wasn’t normal for him, he had gotten used to many of Peter’s different injuries, from bruises that faded to even gunshot wounds weren’t terribly scary anymore.
Now, though, every time he shut his eyes, he could see it. Peter’s chest, shredded to near ribbons by some new villain that had only started popping up recently. Scratches slowly became more and more common, but this latest battle had been something else entirely. As soon as Peter had finished fighting - Harley had watched it all through the camera in the mask, breath catching every time Karen gave another warning, his suit ready to at any time - he had webbed the assailant up and collapsed, Tony immediately rushing out to get him.
The problem with the suit camera was no one knew the extent of Peter’s injuries except Peter himself. That was why, two minutes after Tony left, he had sent a call back to the Tower for Harley to get Dr. Cho. Harley had stilled for a moment, because calling for Dr. Cho meant something bad had happened. Something that couldn’t be fixed on its own.
Fear taking a hold of his thoughts, Harley contacted the doctor as quick as he could, and soon enough she was preparing the medbay as the bay window opened and Tony flew in.
There was so much blood, Peter was absolutely covered in it. Harley could barely distinguish his bare torso from where the red of his suit had been shredded and torn open, something Harley hadn’t even thought was possible. As Tony rushed passed him, Harley saw the image that was imprinted on the back of his eyelids, Peter’s open chest cavity where the skin had been cut so deep it was pooling blood, Harley could see some other colors that did not belong on the outside and his stomach started churning, he backed away as Tony entered the room and shut the door behind, leaving Harley outside.
And now, here he was. Sitting in a chair, barely breathing at all, trying to keep himself from panicking or crying or puking. No one had entered or exited that room in what felt like hours, and Harley was on the verge of doing something drastic.
There was a gentle touch on his shoulder, and a familiar voice drawing him out of his spiraling thoughts. “Harley,” Tony said softly. “Harley, he’s okay.”
Harley choked on a sob, sitting up so quickly he nearly collided with Tony. “Can I see him?”
“He might still be under the anesthesia, but yeah. He’s stable now.”
Harley all but tore himself from that chair to rush into the room, narrowing avoiding Dr. Cho as she tried to leave. “Sorry, sorry,” he muttered, grabbing a chair and plopping himself down into it at Peter’s side.
He was lying on his back, white bandages wrapped tightly around his torso. His chest rose and fell, shallowly, and through his lips came ragged breaths, slowly and painfully.
His hand had fallen to the side, so Harley picked it up with both of his, bringing Peter’s hand to his lips and kissing his knuckles gently, letting out a breath of relief.
There was stirring on the bed and Harley saw Peter eyes blink open and flick over to him. “Harley,” Peter rasped, fingers tightening around Harley’s hand.
“Hey there, sweetheart,” Harley whispered, thumbs rubbing circles into Peter’s hand. “How’re you feeling?”
“I didn’t- for a second I didn’t think that I would-” Peter's voice caught, a thought too terrible to speak out loud.
Harley exhaled heavily, heart pounding in his chest as his adrenaline slowly faded. “It’s okay. We’re okay now. You should rest, honey.”
“No.” Peter struggled to move, but gave up fighting against the bandages and simply lay down. “Harley, I don’t want to go out to another fight like this without telling you.”
“Telling me what?” Harley asked.
“I love you.”
Harley blinked, remembering every instance of sleep talking he remembered. “I know,” he responded bluntly.
Peter squinted at him. “Did you just quote Star Wars at me?”
“Not intentionally. Just like how you unintentionally talk in your sleep. A lot.”
Peter’s face blushed pink, and he covered it with his free hand. “Oh, shit, really?”
Harley snickered. “Yeah. Quite a few times. Sometimes it was funny, but,” he frowned slightly. “Sometimes it was sad. You were afraid I wouldn’t love you back.”
“I’m still afraid, I think,” Peter whispered, taking his eyes from Harley to look up at the ceiling.
“Oh, fuck, no, don’t think that, Peter,” Harley hurried to reassure him. “I love you. I really do. I love you so fucking much sometimes it hurts to breathe. Please don’t ever think that I don’t love you.”
Peter’s tight face relaxed in a smile. “I love you, Harley Keener.”
Harley kissed Peter’s knuckles again, a smile on his lips. “And I love you, Peter Parker.”