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“Okay, it’s hot as the devil’s balls out here, and I can’t take it another minute. You ready to go down to the pond?”
Ice-cold fear shouldn’t have washed down Peter’s spine at those words, but it wasn’t exactly something he could control. He looked at his boyfriend with a gaping mouth, trying and failing to come up with any sort of excuse to push off swimming another day.
“I don’t- um, I don’t know where my swim trunks are?” Peter tried, kicking his legs back and forth as the porch swing they sat on moved with them.
“You definitely do, I watched you pack them. Come on, sweetheart, it’s hotter than the pits of hell out here.” Harley threw his head back against Peter’s outstretched arm, and Peter was forced to admit defeat to the heat when Harley’s hair felt almost wet against his skin.
“Ew,” he said, moving his arm. “Your hair is sweaty.”
“Yeah, so let’s go cool down at the pond,” Harley groaned. “It’s not that far, I swear. We’ll be back before curfew.” The sun was already setting over the trees, though the afternoon heat hadn’t dropped a bit.
Peter exhaled heavily, trying to stop his skin from prickling. “Will-” the question sat on his tongue, but his throat froze, and he stopped. And gave in. “Sure, we can head down to the lake.”
Reluctantly, and as slowly as he could, Peter changed into swim trunks. It was so hot out, but goosebumps rose on his skin anyways, crawling up his forearms, encircling his neck, squeezing, he couldn’t breathe, he was drow-
“Ready to go?” Harley’s voice broke through his thoughts, and his excited rambling grounded Peter, just a little bit. “Jacob’s dad installed this diving platform years ago that we can jump off of, and it’s so fun. There’s also a tire swing we can use to swing into the water too.” Harley grabbed his hand, his towel over his shoulder. Both of them were sticky with sweat, but neither cared. Peter gripped Harley’s hand like a lifeline, maybe a little too hard but Harley didn’t say anything. He just smiled at Peter with that wide, toothy smile and for a moment, Peter felt like he could do anything.
But only for a moment.
By the time they made their way to the pond, the sun was barely more than a sliver against the horizon, and the sky was streaked with orange and purple.
“Man, that’s beautiful,” Harley breathed, swinging their clasped hands in between them. Peter nodded, trying to steel himself against the approaching water.
“Hey, how deep is this lake?” Peter asked, trying for a nonchalant tone despite the slight tremble in his words.
He almost wished Harley had picked up on it, wished Harley could see into his head and know what he couldn’t explain. “Not sure, I’ve never actually touched the bottom,” Harley said instead, which didn’t help one bit. “I wouldn’t want to, anyway, the edges are kind of murky and muddy.
“Oh,” Peter chuckled lightly, heart rate increasing to a heavy thump underneath his chest. “Great.”
They laid their towels on the side, and Peter wiped his sweaty brow.
“C’mon, sweetheart!” Harley hollered from the metal diving platform. His eyes were big and bright in the fading daylight, and he pushed his hair back with one hand before whooping loudly and taking a running leap into the lake.
Water splashed everywhere, and as the cool droplets showered his skin, Peter had to admit that it did feel nice. He could do this. It wasn’t that high off the ground, after all, he had jumped from plenty higher as Spider-Man. He could do this.
He touched his wrists without thinking, missing the familiar pressure of his webshooters. No. He was fine. He could do this.
Harley had popped up, treading water and waving at Peter. “Water’s great!” he called, and Peter smiled fondly at him. He knew it would make Harley happy if he did this, and it would be fine.
“Alright, you’ve convinced me,” he said, a sudden surge of confidence filling him. He walked toward the platform and stepped on the warm metal. He knew that at any second he could change his mind again, so he ran, pushing his feet into the metal platform to get a good start before he jumped. Only-
Only his feet were sandy, not used to the metal, so he slipped-
-his left ankle catching on the metal, digging into his skin-
-something had grabbed him, clawing at his ankle, rising higher and higher-
-he twisted to regain his balance, but his vision was blurry. He caught sight of Harley, his-
-bright green eyes, blinding him until he couldn’t see anything else and then there was nothing-
-Peter didn’t even have time to shout before his back hit the water and he couldn’t see, he was sinking he couldn’t breathe the mask was tight against his face and the water was so cold he couldn’t move his limbs he was going to drown he was going to drown he was going to drown
Something grabbed him, claws clutching under his armpits and Peter would have screamed if his lungs weren’t already burning.
“Peter!” His ears popped, someone was shouting for him, but who-
“Sweetheart, you need to breathe, you need to breathe for me, okay?”
There was a hand on his back, steady and warm. Not claws. Peter opened his mouth, but choked on the water filling up his lungs, rising in his throat, he was going to
“That’s it, sweetheart. In and out, slowly. Take your time.”
It wasn’t water, it was air, and Peter was slowly becoming aware of the sensation of grass underneath him, the hand on his back rubbing soft circles, the voice speaking to him gently with just the hint of a tremor in it. Peter took the first conscious breath he had in minutes, a ragged gasp too loud and too sharp, leaving him coughing again. He turned his head toward the voice, seeking and finding a familiar face framed with dripping hair. “Harley,” he murmured, seeking and searching until he could find himself in the other boy’s eyes.
“Hey there, sweetheart,” Harley said, lips rising in a gentle smile. “There you are.”
Peter nodded jerkily, chin nearly touching his chest as awareness came back to him slowly, spilling down his body like the receding drops of water.
“You don’t have to tell me what happened unless you want to,” Harley reassured the moment Peter opened his mouth, but Peter shook his head.
He could just feel the hum of his voice in his throat as he started to explain. “Remember I told you about the Vulture? The guy I fought sophomore year?”
“Yeah, I remember. He was the dad of the girl you were supposed to take, right?”
“Mhm,” Peter mumbled. “Before that, before I even really knew about him, I was chasing after some guys who were selling these weapons. I mean, real powerful energy type stuff.” He could feel his arms now and wiggled his fingers slowly. “But, before I could get to them, he grabbed me. In his big flying suit with these weird wings, and he grabbed my ankle and he- he-” Peter drew in a shuddering breath, relieved to feel the air in his chest and not water. “He flew out over some- some lake, or river, I couldn’t see,” the words poured out of him, pent up memories and feelings too long repressed. His hands were shaking. “It was so dark out, and then he just- he just dropped me.” His legs, now, he adjusted his stance so it wasn’t as tight to his body. “It was so cold, and I couldn’t see anything, and I probably would have drowned if Mr. Stark hadn’t sent an Iron Man to come save me.”
“Oh my God,” Harley murmured, pressing his forehead into Peter’s shoulder, breath warm on his back. “Is that why you didn’t want to go swimming?”
“Mhm,” Peter said again. “But when you jumped in, I thought, maybe, but I slipped on the platform and- ow, shit!”
“What is it?” Harley asked worriedly, picking his head up. Peter curled his toes, hissing when a pain sliced through his foot. He lifted it up from the grass and sand, and let out a small whine when he saw the nasty slice down the middle. Harley let out a groan of sympathy.
“My foot,” Peter groaned. “When I slipped, I thought- I mean, I don’t-” Words got tangled on his tongue, and he just gestured helplessly at it until he was finally able spit out. “Hurts.”
“Alright, let’s get you back to the house then, we’ve got bandaging supplies in the medicine cabinet,” Harley said. “You think you can stand?”
Peter looked up at his boyfriend as he stood, grabbing his extended hand. His arm shook as he was pulled to his feet, and he immediately fell against Harley’s chest, gripping his arms.
“Okay, okay,” Harley said, hand stroking Peter’s curls lightly. “I’ll carry you.”
“Thank you.” Peter exhaled heavily and looped his arms around Harley’s neck as he felt an arm underneath his legs, scooping him up. Harley grunted underneath his weight, and Peter murmured a guilty “Sorry,” as they began to walk.
“Ain’t no thing, sweetheart.”
Peter turned his head into Harley’s chest, slowing his breaths to match the rise and fall of Harley’s chest.
He heard the squeak of the porch steps, and then Harley saying quietly, “Gonna put you on the porch swing while I go get the bandages.” There was swaying wood underneath him, and the screen door swung shut.
Peter winced as he reflexively moved his foot, feeling the sand crunch in the wound. The door opened again with a creak, and Harley was out with an armful of things.
“Sorry for… all of this,” Peter said as Harley took a damp washcloth in his hand and began to wipe out the muddy wound. He gripped the armrest of the porch swing as the wound continued to sting so hard he thought it might break.
“Careful you don’t crack the arm of it, sweetheart,” Harley said gently. Then, “I like taking care of people. Making sure they’re okay when they’re hurt, making sure they take care of themselves. You know that.”
Peter did. He knew it when Harley had taken care of Abby when she had the flu that one time, had stayed at her bedside nearly the entire night until her fever broke and she stopped vomiting every few hours. He knew it every time Harley held him through a nightmare, made him food when he had been so focused he hadn’t eaten in several hours.
Harley began putting some kind of ointment, it felt cool against his skin. “You heal so quickly it’ll be fine by the morning anyway, but foot injuries are a bitch to walk on.”
“Thank you,” Peter said instead of another apology. “It’s sweet of you. I don’t think I’ve ever told you how much I appreciate everything you do for me.”
Harley looked up at him, blinked his soft eyes through long eyelashes. “You do. You just don’t say it with words.” When Peter stared at him, not quite comprehending through his foggy mind, Harley explained as he began to bandage Peter’s foot. “But you don’t need to. You read me so easily. You know when I’ve had a bad day, you know when I’ve been “on” for too long, and you give me the help I didn’t even know I needed.”
“Oh,” Peter said softly, chest warming at the realization. The bandage was tight around his foot, but not suffocating.
Harley pulled back, hands leaving Peter’s foot. “Better?”
“Yeah,” Peter breathed, a strange but not unwelcome realization pulsing in his chest. He stood as Harley did, gripping the side of the swing just in case.
Harley looked at him, amused. “Let’s head to bed, sweetheart.”
“I-” Peter refused to choke on his words this time, and grabbed Harley’s arm as he turned to walk in. Harley turned back to look, gesturing to his own arm to help Peter into the house.
“No, I-” Peter took a deep breath. “Everything you did today- getting me out of the water, bringing me back from- from, you know, and bandaging my foot, it’s just- Thank you. For everything you do, all the time. Thank you.”
Harley’s lips were twisted in a slight frown. “I’m the one who pushed you to get in the water in the first place, though. I didn’t even think about-”
“I’ve never told anyone about it before now,” Peter said. “There’s no way I could have known, and none of that has made me love you any less. In fact, I love you more now than I think I ever have.”
Harley’s eyes could have been saucers. “Love?” he asked in a strangled tone.
Peter nodded firmly, not letting his eyes leave Harley’s no matter how deeply his fear told him to run. “Yeah. I love you.”
Harley nodded dumbly, mouth open. “Yeah, I- I mean,” he scratched the back of his neck with his hand. “I love you too. So much, Peter. I love you so much.”
There was a giddiness in Peter’s veins, a lightness in his heart. “I love you, Harley,” he said again, just because he could. The events of the pond seemed so far away under this porch, looking into the eyes of the person he loved and being able to say it.
“I love you. C’mon,” Harley said, smile bright, eyes sparkling, beckoning him inside. “Let’s, uh… let’s go to bed.”
Minutes later, the two boys were curled up around each other, hands intertwined and breaths intermingling in the space between them as they whispered their love for each other under the cover of night