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Part 8 of aroacewritingplace - Parkner Week
Collections:
Parkner Week 2019
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Published:
2019-08-09
Words:
1,900
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
9
Kudos:
371
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All I Want To Do (keep kissing you)

Summary:

It's supposed to be a night of celebration, but Peter's spider-sense is telling him that something is wrong.
Also, Harley's a little drunk and can't keep his hands off his boyfriend.

Notes:

For day eight of Parkner Week: Karaoke, Body Swap

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Harley frowned, noticing his boyfriend’s flighty eyes. They were in some kind of private karaoke bar with a group of classmates for some post-finals party, and had been singing loudly and drinking well into the night. Harley was more than a little tipsy, but Peter’s enhanced metabolism, unfortunately, prevented him from getting super drunk.

Although maybe that was a good thing in this case. Peter stood up suddenly, nearly knocking over a bag of pretzels someone got. “I have to, uh, go to the bathroom.” He looked straight at Harley and inclined his head towards the door.

Harley’s eyes widened, and he shook his head like that would sober him. “I- I also have to go,” he said suddenly.

Their friends laughed, waving them out of the room. “Use protection!” One of them called as the door shut behind them. 

Harley was decidedly not any soberer, and while he recognized that they weren’t supposed to be making out in the darkened hallway of an unfamiliar building, that’s really what he wanted to do right now.

“Harley,” Peter panted as Harley licked into his mouth, hands roaming over his chest. “Harley, someone’s in trouble.”

“Fuck, right.” Harley pulled away, face flushed. “I really want to keep kissing you, though,” he whined.

Peter smiled, his nose crinkling. “Let’s figure out what’s going on, and then we can ditch this lame party and head back to my dorm, okay?”

Harley nodded, mind already drifting to later that night. “Okay, okay.”

They crept out the back, Peter leading him around the pile of garbage bags and broken bottles. They pressed against the side of the building, leaning out into the alley.

Harley saw purple sparks before anything else, lighting up the alley. Then there were voices, someone crying out.

“Some rogue magic-user. Doctor Strange said they had been getting more active since he dealt with the corrupted clan back in November.”

“So… what do we do?” Harley asked. “We call my suit?”

“No,” Peter said firmly. “I don’t have mine either. I’ll text Doctor Strange, and then we can go and, I don’t know, pretend we’re some drunk couple looking for a place to make out.”

Harley leaned his head on Peter’s shoulder. “We are a drunk couple looking for a place to make out,” he whined.

“No, I think that’s just you.” But Peter was smiling again and linked their hands. “Right, I texted him where we are. Let’s go.”

He took the lead, pulling Harley out into the alley and immediately drawing him into a kiss. Harley almost immediately forgot the plan as soon as Peter’s lips touched his, and would have completely melted against his lips if Peter hadn’t pulled back with a forced laugh, turning to look at the direction of the blue magic. “Oh, shoot, sorry! We didn’t realize- woah, how’d you get your hands to go blue?” 

In the dim blue light, Harley could make out two figures, one crouched on the ground and the other towering above them, two long strands of blue magic dangling from their hands.

Peter approached quickly but cautiously, keeping Harley’s hand in his. “Here, let me help you up,” he said in a falsely innocent voice, reaching to grab the hand of the person on the ground.

There was a snarl, a white-hot heat in the space their hands were touching, and then Harley was flattened against the opposite wall, torn from Peter. Peter had been likewise flattened against the wall. There was a strip of crackling blue energy across both of their chests, keeping them there. The person on the ground scrambled to their feet and bolts, the footsteps echoing behind him.

“See what you did?” The woman snarled. “Nothing permanent was going to happen to him, but I guess that has to change now.”

Harley tried to interject this time, keep up their story of false innocence. “Hey, what’s going on? We’re just here at this bar to… to do karaoke, you know?”

She laughed bitterly. “Like I couldn’t hear you two scheming behind that wall. Strange may find me, that worthless excuse for a sorcerer, but I doubt he’ll know how to put you both back together.”

“Wh-what?” Harley stuttered, looking to Peter for some kind of help. “You’re going to kill us?”

“Oh my God, no.” She almost sounded annoyed. “No, I’m no murderer. Just going to-” and she walked over to Harley, releasing him from the blue bond. “Do a little bit of this!”

She tapped the middle of Harley’s chest and yanked, hard. Harley didn’t feel like he was falling forward, though, it felt like he was falling out of something.

He pitched forward. Peter screamed. It went dark.

Then, his eyes blinked open. It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, but he honestly wasn’t sure how long.

His head throbbed. Something was buzzing- Harley looked up behind him and caught sight of a street light. Was that it? Why could he hear that so clearly? It was so loud.

Groaning caught his attention, so Harley turned to face whom he assumed was his boyfriend.

Only to look at his own face.

Harley scrambled backward as the other person - himself? Where was Peter? - flickered open his eyes.

“Oh, jeez.” That was his own voice, Harley hadn’t spoken. 

“What the hell…” Harley trailed off, realizing that his voice sounded exactly like his boyfriend’s, only slightly deeper in the rumble of his chest.

“Why’s it so dark?” the other slurred, squinting his eyes. “Everything’s so quiet. Feels like I have my suit on.”

“Peter?” Harley asked tentatively. He could see his own face, clear as anything, scrunched in confusion.

“Harley? Wait, that sounds like me talking. And I… I sound like you. Why can’t I see anything?”

Harley looked left and right, but there was no trace of the woman with blue magic. They were alone in the alley. “Um. This might be crazy, but I think we switched bodies.”

Peter squinted more, shaking his head. “Is that even possible?” he asked. Then, “I guess it’s magic, so I guess we don’t know what’s possible.”

Harley sat up. “God, everything is so loud,” he groaned, pressing his palms into the side of his head. “How do you stand it?”

“Um. I don’t. Usually. Everything is really loud all the time, eventually you get used to it.” Peter shrugged, sitting up as well. “It’s so quiet. And dark. And kind of fuzzy, too, do you need glasses?”

Harley shrugged. “I guess Larwey’s presentations have been getting hard to read lately.”

“Harley,” Peter groaned. “Once we get back in our actual bodies - wow , what a weird sentence to say - you’re going to get glasses.”

“Fine,” Harley grumbled. “But I want contacts. Glasses suck.”

Peter laughed. “Yeah, I had glasses before I got my powers. They do suck.”

They sat in the alleyway in silence, and Harley still couldn’t believe he was looking back at his own body. It hardly moved like him, fidgety where he was still, and he was sure it looked just as weird to Peter. “So,” he said at last. “Where’s the doctor?”

Peter shrugged. “Beats me. Sometimes he doesn’t answer me for a few days. I don’t know if he always keeps his phone on him, to be honest.”

“Peter, I’m gonna be honest, I don’t like having all these enhanced senses. Can we maybe try and go find the Sanctum thing or whatever?”

“Yeah, sure,” Peter grunted as he stood. Harley stood too, leaning against the wall as his headache persisted. Peter looked at him and laughed. “Nice to be the taller one for a change.”

“Shut up,” Harley said. “You really have a headache like this all the time?”

Peter shrugged again and nodded. “I’m gonna call Doctor Strange because I feel like that’s smarter than us wandering around the streets in the wrong bodies.” He motioned for Harley to give him his phone and lifted it to his ear after a few taps. “Hello?” he asked. “No, this is Peter. Yeah, I know I sound like Harley. That’s cause some crazy girl with blue magic just switched our souls around. Yeah, with green-streaked hair. No, she’s not here anymore. Just ran off after switching us. Can you put us back together? Okay, cool.” Peter put the phone in his pants - Harley’s pants? - “He’s got to find a book, but he said he’d be here soon.”

“Cool.” Harley leaned back against the wall.

Peter picked at the hem of his shirt. “I think you’re still a little drunk, which means I’m a little drunk. Woah. I’ve never been drunk before. This feels weird.”

“What do you mean?” Harley was completely sober, but couldn’t help but laugh as Peter’s hazy eyes, his soft smile. 

“Is it weird I want to kiss you even though you look like me?” Peter stepped forward, a little stumble. “That’s weird, right? I don’t know.”

Harley shrugged, fighting a smile. “Probably. I wouldn’t mind, though. S’long as we close our eyes, shouldn’t make a difference.”

Peter laughed too. “It sounds so weird to hear my voice say stuff like that. You sound southern without the accent. It’s weird.” He was close now, voice slurring with accent and alcohol. 

“Definitely weird. Good thing we’re kind of used to weird though, right?” Harley leaned forward, instinctively leaning down before remembering to tilt up.

“This is definitely on the weirder side, though.” A new voice said sharply. Harley pulled back, the brightness of Doctor Strange’s portal almost too much for his eyes. “Let’s get you two back in your actual bodies.”

Peter sighed heavily, backing away from Harley. “She said you wouldn’t know how to put us back together.”

“I didn’t before, but now I do. It was just something I hadn’t learned yet.” The Doctor clapped his hands twice, and a string of orange sparks spanned the distance between his palms. “You might black out for a minute, but-”

When Harley opened his eyes again, he was looking at Peter. “Oh thank God,” he groaned, no longer able to hear that buzzing street light. “Good to see your pretty face again, sweetheart.”

“Likewise,” Peter said, already up and moving. “Thanks, Doctor Strange.”

“If there’s a next time, call me, don’t text me. You’re on mute for all the pictures you keep sending me.” Harley snickered at the man’s stern tone. “Want me to take you home?”

Peter looked at Harley, and Harley shrugged. “You did say we could go back to your dorm after this,” Harley reminded him, raising an eyebrow.

Peter swallowed, nodding. “Right, yeah. Dorm room. Bed.”

Doctor Strange rolled his eyes but waved his hands. “Get going then, I don’t have all night.”

“Thanks again,” Harley said, raising his hand in a brief wave as he dragged Peter through the portal. It shut behind them, and finally Harley was able to actually, really kiss Peter like he wanted to, pushing him down onto his bed and pressing their lips together, smiling against him. “I’d rather kiss you,” he said between kisses, hands traveling down Peter’s side to the button his pants. “Rather touch you .”

“Me too,” Peter agreed, surging up to meet Harley in a surging kiss. “Switching bodies was weird. I don’t want to do that again.” 

“Glad we’re in agreement,” Harley decided, pushing his hands up underneath Peter’s shirt, kissing his neck, breathing him in.

Notes:

fhjksdf this was kinda dumb ngl
lmk what you thought!
tumblr: the-end-of-endgame

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