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captainsophiestark · 2 months

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Super Surprises

Harley Keener x Reader

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Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Harley's SO shows up earlier than expected to his apartment and discovers he leads a slightly more interesting life than the average MIT student

Word Count: 1,781

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Harley! You'll never believe the email I got from my professor! I mean, I'm not complaining, since it meant I could get out of class early and grab some food for us before coming here, but-"

I stopped short, frowning from the kitchen of my boyfriend's apartment. Normally, by now, he would've come out here to join me, or at least acknowledged me from somewhere else in the apartment. But I hadn't heard anything since I'd walked in the door.

Granted, I'd shown up much earlier than he'd been expecting me. My professor had canceled class about five minutes after I'd sat down in the lecture hall because he couldn't find parking, had been trying for twenty minutes, and was fed up with the whole ordeal. Still, there was no reason Harley shouldn't have been here. His lack of response was odd.

"Harley?" I called, tentatively heading towards his bedroom. I heard a hushed commotion and some shuffling from inside, then a muffled bang before total silence. I reached the knob, starting to feel a little concerned for the wellbeing of my boyfriend, when he flung the door open a moment before I could.

"Hey," he said, fixing me with a delayed version of his usual grin. "Sorry, I was just... cleaning something up."

"That's okay..." I said, narrowing my eyes a little and trying to look past Harley into his room. He shifted in the doorway to block me, and I raised an eyebrow at him. He grinned at me, trying to look suave, but I wasn't buying it. I ducked under his arm and moved into the room, looking around with my hands on my hips.

"You, uh... you said you had a story about an email from your professor?" asked Harley from behind me. I just hummed without turning around. He was acting weird, and I was determined to figure out why.

I scanned the room, but I didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Other than my boyfriend, that is, who hovered behind me radiating a nervous energy I never felt from him every time I took a step. I started moving around the room, and Harley looked so nervous I thought he might fidget so hard he hit his head on the ceiling. I walked past the window and his bed with no real effect, but the moment I started heading for the closet with purpose, he sprang across the room to jump in front of me.

I put one hand on my hip and fixed him with a look.

"What's in the closet, Har?"

"Nothing."

I snorted. "According to my sources, that's a load of bullshit."

"What sources?"

"My common sense. Come on, you're never this jumpy, especially not around me! So what's in the closet. I know you're not hiding a secret lover in there, so just tell me. What is it?"

"It's... a surprise," he managed, not even half as convincing as he would need to be. I just rolled my eyes and took another step towards him.

"Harley Keener, you aren't fooling anybody. You are, however, starting to worry me. So come on. What's in the closet?"

Harley's eyes darted around the room, scanning me and our surroundings, and I could see his brain working a mile a minute. Finally though, he sighed, the restlessness draining away from him as he settled his stare on me. He looked like the normal, slightly tired, sarcastic and blunt guy that I'd fallen for so fast in one of our physics classes again, and relief washed over me.

"You want to know what's in the closet? Fine. I was working up to telling you all this shit anyway, so why not now?"

I raised an eyebrow, but Harley just turned around to open the closet door a crack. He had a harsh, whispered conversation with someone apparently hiding inside, and my mind started racing, trying to come up with possibilities that would tie into this whole situation and actually make sense. Before I could come up with anything, Harley stepped back, and someone stepped out of the closet.

Never in a million years would I have been able to come up with the guess "Spider-Man is hiding in my boyfriend's closet".

My mouth dropped open as the beloved hero of New York stepped further into the room, Harley at his side. I just stared, trying to get my brain working again. I wasn't having much success.

"What... how... why-?"

"Remember I told you I met Tony Stark once, in Tennessee? When I was a little kid?"

I nodded, shifting my attention to Harley again. He had his hands in his pockets, and the usual casualness in his posture seemed a little more forced than usual.

"Well, I didn't mention that I saw him again. Regularly. He's kind of... adopted me, I guess, as a science kid who helped him fight off some bad guys one time. I actually go visit somewhat regularly, and Spider-Man's Tony's other science kid."

I blinked a few times, looking between the two people before me, my brain still trying and failing to play catchup. Spider-Man gave me a little wave, which didn't really help.

"That's... Harley, that's insane! Why didn't you... why didn't you tell me?"

He sighed, his shoulders slumping a little as his gaze fell towards the floor.

"I didn't want to tell you before we got serious. It just felt weird, like I was bragging or trying to get you to like me based on who I know. And I didn't want you to go out with me because of it, either. And then when we did get serious, it had been long enough that I wasn't sure how to bring it up. I was trying to figure it out, but I guess that's not a problem anymore."

He shot a look at Spider-Man that only a sibling could, with all the annoyance and irritation possible communicated in a single second. I couldn't help smiling.

"Well, I'm glad I know now," I said, crossing the room to take Harley's hand and give him a soft kiss on the cheek. "I love you, Har. I'm always happy to hear about you and your life, even when it's... unexpected."

He smiled at me, then leaned in and gave me a real kiss. I didn't let it go on for more than a few quick seconds, since we still had a guest in the room, but it was still nice. A little reassurance for us both.

"So..." I started, finally turning to the masked superhero in the room. "It's nice to meet you, Spider-Man."

I held out my hand for a handshake, which he returned.

"Yeah, it's nice to meet you too! Harley talks about you all the time."

I grinned, and I could see Harley shaking his head out of the corner of my eye. Spider-Man's voice made him sound way younger than I'd thought he was, but I decided not to comment on it. At least, not right now.

"So... what brings you to my boyfriend's dorm, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Oh! Well, I'm working on this case, and there's this technology that I think can help me track down the bad guys I'm looking for, but I can't figure out how to hack into it, and Mr. Stark's super busy-"

"Yeah, just gimme the drive," Harley interrupted, holding out his hand. Spidey obliged, then Harley glanced back at me. "Are you okay with this? I know we planned to just hang out together and do some studying..."

"Har, you're involved in superhero business. I'm not going to tell you to drop it, especially when it doesn't really have an impact on us." I turned to Spider-Man. "Luckily for you, I even brought extra helpings of food from Harley and I's favorite place. Although, it might be kind of hard to eat it through the mask."

Spider-Man turned to look at Harley, who completely missed it because he was staring at me.

"I never agreed to share my food with him. How could you offer that?"

I just smiled and shook my head, nodding in Spidey's direction. Harley turned to him with narrowed eyes, but his expression quickly changed when he saw something in Spider-Man's body language or otherwise that had his eyebrows furrowing in concentration. Maybe Spider-Man was secretly telepathic or something.

After a few long moments where Harley and Spidey were apparently managing to have a silent conversation despite the mask, the superhero turned back to me. Harley took my hand in his, a small smile on his face, and then a moment later, Spider-Man whipped off his mask.

A baby-faced teenager stared back at me with a beaming smile, and I instantly got hit with the most irrational surge of protectiveness I'd ever felt.

"Hi! I'm Peter," he said, giving me another little wave. "Peter Parker. Harley trusts you, and I trust him, so I figured... I could probably share this with you."

I smiled, reaching out to lightly squeeze Peter's arm.

"Thanks, Peter. I'm glad you did. And not to be dramatic, but I'll take your secret to the grave."

Peter's eyebrows shot up, and I heard Harley snort from next to me. I grinned at them both and headed for the kitchen.

"Now c'mon, you've got a case to work on or whatever and I have a ton of upper div calculus homework. None of us has time to waste."

Both boys followed after me, and within a few minutes we were settled at the table in Harley's apartment. Harley and I sat shoulder to shoulder, legs pressed against each other. Even though we were working on separate things, we were completely together, which made everything so much easier.

Every once in a while, I'd look up at Harley and Peter working over the same laptop. Whenever one of them noticed me, we shared smiles before returning to our tasks. We'd moved past the whole Stark-superhero thing pretty quickly, and I was okay with that. It didn't really change my impression of Harley or who he was, it was just another interesting aspect of his life. But I didn't miss the significance in Peter sharing his identity with me.

He wouldn't have done that, and Harley wouldn't have given him the silent yes, if Harley wasn't incredibly serious about this relationship. I'd become more and more convinced over the past few months that Harley was the one, and this told me he was most likely on the same page.

Of course, we'd have to have some conversations about that at some point in the future. But for right now, I was just happy to be working next to him, perfectly comfortable together, even in this new aspect of his life. Shoulder to shoulder through shitty classes and superhero drop-ins alike.

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Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

Marvel Taglist: @valkyriepirate @luv-ghostie @songbirdcannabe @infinetlyforgotten

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harleykeeners · 2 months

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Be My Life Line (Please)-Parkner

Peter Parker/Harley Keener

Prompt: Peter Parker is overwhelmed. His Dads happen to be called out on a mission the same week his life decided to fall apart. With 4 tests, massive presentations, and no parents, Peter starts popping pills to cope with the pressure of everything crumbling around him. Harley finds him and accidentally makes it worse.

Word Count: 9282

“Hey, kid. Just checking in, we just landed. Everything good?” Tony asked.

Peter put the phone down as he sighed, “Yeah, everything’s great.” Lying through his teeth, Peter started to make his way to the medicine cabinet.

“That’s good to hear. Hey, we should be back in 3 days tops. Just gotta wrap something up here with Nat quickly, something about some rogue spies, I don’t even know at this point.”

“Sounds like fun. Well, I gotta go, got things to do. Be safe, love you.” Peter hung up and just… stared into the mirror. He closed the medicine cabinet and walked away. Tony and Stephen were suddenly pulled away for a mission Peter (and apparently Tony) knew next to nothing about. Which was normal.

Except it had to be this week.

It had to be the week Peter had his Calc and Physics midterm.

It had to be the week Peter had an English and History test.

It had to be the week Peter promised to help MJ with Academic Decathlon practice.

It had to be the week Peter was set to present his work to the other head scientists at Stark Industries.

All in all, he had too much this week. Too much, all at once.

Normally, whenever Tony and Stephen were out, Peter would ask Pepper for help. Well, with Pepper being promoted to CEO, that was next to impossible. After Pepper, Peter would go to Happy. However, it appeared the universe was dead set on making Peter’s week terrible. Happy was preoccupied with training new bodyguards and media specialists (which wasn’t his job?).

So, Peter was alone. Alone with a crammed schedule.

He took solace in his bedroom, the lights low with just a lamp over his desk. He figured the best course of action was tackling everything one thing at a time. Or else he feared he would drown.

Peter found it kind of funny, how all of his teachers decided to assign work the same week his internship project was due for a presentation. He figured he’d start with his Physics review. The packet had 60 questions, and he hadn’t started yet. His midterm was 40% of his final grade. He couldn’t afford to fail- which he doesn’t think he will- but better safe than sorry.

As he stares at the packet, Peter wonders why he cares so much. Maybe it's because everyone tells him how “lucky” he is. How he has to make his Dads proud. How he has to live up to his Dads expectations. How he has to prove he’s “worthy” of the life he has.

He knows it’s irrational.

But, it's still enough to motivate him to study himself into an early grave.

He stares at the paper… and completely blanks out.

Friday alerts Peter that it is time for dinner. Normally Tony would make dinner, (or at least leave Peter some leftovers), however, he left in such a rush that Peter had to make his own dinner. The only issue with that is, Peter easily loses track of time. Peter would find himself burning several meals and leaving the oven on multiple times.

It’s not that Peter is a bed cook, just not a safe one.

Tony had banned Peter from the kitchen multiple times.

Worse comes to worst, Peter will cook. However, he’d rather not. Whenever Tony and Stephen would usually leave, Pepper or even Harley would come over and cook. They’d make a day of it.

As Peter stares into the fridge, he really starts to contemplate calling or texting Harley. However, he imagines it’d go something like this:

“Harls, how do I make pasta?”

“Peter, you can not be serious…”

Once Peter sees that there isn’t food, he goes back to his room. He doesn’t want to waste more precious study time. Besides, he wasn’t that hungry. Dinner could be a bit later.

Peter went back to his packet and about his day.

Before he knew it, Friday alerted him it was midnight.

“Great..” Peter muttered. He hadn’t eaten and still didn’t understand certain problems in his review packet.

Peter gave up and started getting ready for bed. He wasn’t that hungry anyway. He set his alarm and then remembered, Tony wasn’t here to drive him. He’d have to take the bus.

Peter set his alarm for 5 A.M.

After a quick shower, he settled into bed and checked his phone. No notifications. It seemed his Dads were busy.

“Goodnight,” Peter says to himself. He could feel it, this was going to be a hard week.

Initially, Peter thought he’d be fine. His Dads joke about how it would be a trial run for college. Peter would be responsible for getting to school, work, and all the house chores. “I’ll be fine,” Peter said. “Go! Go save the world!” Peter ushers his Dads out the door after a quick goodbye.

He wishes he went with them.

The alarm hurls him awake. Peter fights every force known to man, plus some, to get out of bed. His phone's brightness slightly blinds him, and he sees the time says 5:10 A.M. and a text from his Dad.

Dad: Have a good day! Just killed a weird alien, will bring goop as souvenir!

9:45 P.M.

Peter hurls himself out of bed and makes his way into the bathroom.

“What the fuck!” Peter shouts as he hops into the freezing shower. He laughs to himself, “Oh, the universe is out to get me.”

Pro: Peter was no longer sleepy.

Con: Peter was freezing in the middle of January, in New York.

He rushes to pack his bag, making sure to shove his review packet in there. Peter hoped to do a few extra questions on the bus. Racing downstairs, Peter quickly grabs a banana for breakfast and races out the door.

“Next bus in 30 minutes,” reads on the bus app. Great, that only means Peter just missed the bus.

He sat at the bus stop, regretting not dressing warmer, and started working on his review packet. The smell of weed hit him as a few people started to gather at the bus stop. It frustrated him that he had to smell weed this early in the morning. That was the main reason he asked Tony to drive him to school.

He wasn’t a fan of starting his day with the horrid stench of weed at 5:30 A.M.

By the time the bus came, Peter had to fight his way on. He ended up standing in the alley, holding on to the overhead rails for support. Any plans to keep studying went out the window.

The morning bus was always oddly crowded. People getting on would shove and jostle Peter, and he simply got used to it.

As luck would have it, Peter forgot to grab his headphones. The nice thing about the morning bus was that no one tried to talk to him. He quietly watched the street view and the soft fall of snow outside.

He found comfort in the route. It was the same route every day. It was a constant.

When he finally got off at Midtown, the time was 6:45 A.M. Peter had 15 minutes before class in which he can continue his studies. He found a small corner by the school and settled down.

“Yo, you got those practice questions I asked for?” MJ asks. She seemed to appear out of thin air and scared the shit out of Peter.

“Oh, no. Sorry, it completely slipped my mind.” He answered as MJ opted to sit next to him. Peter forgot that MJ was in the hospital with her mother and needed help with Academic Decathlon practice questions.

“Ah, don’t sweat it. I just need them before Thursday.” She looks over his shoulder at the packet. “Last minute cramming?”

Peter nods and sighs at the same time. “Yeah. I think I’ll be fine but can never be too sure.”

MJ laughs and quips back “Yeah, don’t be like Flash. He’s going on and on about how he knows he’ll ace it but” MJ leans closer to Peter, “If you look at him closely, you can see the panic in his eyes.”

They shared a laugh before MJ got up to roam around school a bit before class. Peter was feeling a bit more confident, however, his test anxiety was acting up. Bad enough that he has to take this test at the end of the day. Now he’ll just be anxious all day.

Throughout the day, Peter’s head started to hurt. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, mixed with his empty stomach, and his anxiety that started making his head spin.

It was fine, he just needed to get through this midterm. That he forgot about until yesterday. That was worth 40% of his grade. That could tank his 96% “A”. That Flash 100% bombed if his face at lunch was anything to tell by.

If Peter played his cards right, he just needed 81% to end up with 90%. He needs to end the semester with an “A”. He can only afford to get 12 questions wrong. He should have studied earlier. His head is spinning. His palms are sweating. When did it get so hot?

Peter flips over his test and quickly skims the questions. He doesn’t remember what happens next.

He walked out of the classroom, feeling relief that it was finally over. Until he remembers he has to go on patrol.

Peter really didn’t want to go on patrol as he had his Chemistry midterm on Thursday. But, Spider-Man can’t just disappear for a week. So, despite his better judgment, he calls Ned to take his bag.

Normally, Peter loves patrol. He loves swinging from building to building and helping those in need. Peter finds that being Spider-Man is one of the few moments he can truly be himself. No pressure from school, friends, or his Dads. Spider-Man is his window to freedom.

And right now, Peter wants to slam the window shut. Right now, Peter needs to be studying. However, just as he thinks that Peter sees a cat in a tree.

“Hey! Someone a little stuck?” Peter asks the cat, not really expecting a response. (However, he doesn’t ignore the possibility of a talking cat.) Luckily, the cat doesn’t try to scratch him. Peter easily scoops up the cat and returns it to the ground.

“I feel like I should find your owner…” The cat ends up running away behind some home, allowing Peter to conclude that it was an outside cat that simply got stuck.

He wishes his patrol ended there. Over the next 3 hours, the universe decided to line up every petty crime back-to-back. First, Mr. Delmar found himself behind gunpoint. Then, some teenagers decided to rob a gas station. Followed by three guys causing a commotion on the subway. And the cherry on top of this picture-perfect night was a woman getting mugged right as Peter was going to go home.

Peter knows he’s there to help. But sometimes, sometimes he wishes he could be selfish and take the day for himself.

He swings by Ned’s window to collect his bag and makes his way home.

“Welcome home, Peter. It is currently 9:37 P.M.” Friday announces. Peter simply groans and makes his way to the shower. One thing he feels he must do is shower after patrol. Even though he should go to bed, Peter needs to study.

The relief Peter feels as the hot water hits his shoulders is unparalleled. It's the first moment of relaxation all day.

As Peter gets dressed, he notices the clock strikes 10 P.M. That gives him roughly an hour to study. He silences his phone to avoid all distractions and hits the books.

Dad: Everything okay? Haven’t heard from you yet

10:12 P.M.

Pops: Hope you’re doing well, Peter.

10:19 P.M.

Dad: Sleep well, kid. Love ya

10:35 P.M.

He doesn’t notice the missed texts. Peter wakes up on his desk.

His phone is screaming at him from across the room. His head hurts and the lights he left on blind him.

“Shit,” He thinks. Peter pulls himself from the desk, his back in agony and his head pounding. “Friday, what time is it?”

“It is 6 A.M, Peter.”

“Oh, shit.” Peter thinks. “I’m going to miss the bus.” Immediately, Peter throws on the first thing he sees and races out the door. No time for breakfast. Now that he thinks about it, he missed dinner yesterday.

As he rushes to the bus stop, Peter realizes the bus is approaching. Luckily, there's a line of people to get on so Peter makes it on in time. Way too close for comfort.

By now, his head is pounding. He keeps forgetting to eat and he’s not getting enough sleep. He’s still sore from patrol and he’s anxious about his tests. And now, he’s out of breath from chasing the bus.

It’s not like today is going to get any better. Peter knows he still has to do the Academic Decathlon questions MJ asked for. Plus, he needs to finish patrol quickly to review some formulas that were wrong on his internship project.

Once again, MJ finds him sitting in the same corner, now reviewing Chemistry. Peter sees her from the corner of his eye and prepares to let her down again.

“Before you ask, no, I still don’t have the AcaDeca questions. I’m sorry, I’ll try my hardest to get them done by tomorrow.” Peter doesn't promise and he isn’t even sure what he just said is true.

He doesn’t really know why he can’t just tell MJ he doesn’t have the time to do them.

Well, Peter knows why.

He doesn’t want to let her down. He doesn’t want to admit he can’t do something. He doesn’t want to admit he bit off more than he can chew. Peter wants to be someone people can rely on. But right now, he can’t even rely on himself.

“No sweat, just let me know if it’s too much. I can always ask Ned to do them instead.” MJ calmly answers back.

Peter should tell her that would be better, but something stops him.

“Hey, MJ.” Peter finds himself saying. "Do you have any Advil on you?”

“Yeah, why? Headache?”

Peter nods his head as MJ hands him the small pill. “Slept horribly.” He doesn’t even bother getting water and dry swallows the pill. MJ shoots him a look of sympathy and understanding.

“Happens to the best of us,” she says. With that, MJ bids Peter farewell and he resumes his studies.

When 3rd period rolls around, Peter is hit with the fact that he indeed has a history test today. He’s not panicking, just annoyed he forgot. It seemed like things were slipping from his memory recently.

The class is silent as they take their test and Peter starts to feel dizzy again. He didn’t eat during lunch and instead kept studying. He drinks some water, which does help him a little, but right now Peter just wants to put his head down.

He finishes his test and makes a dash for the bathroom. He just needs a minute to breathe. “Okay, just calm down. Just relax and focus,” Peter thinks as he splashes water onto his face. He begins to form a list and organize himself:

Patrol.

Internship formula.

Chemistry Midterm.

English test.

Academic Decathlon Questions.

And dinner.

He keeps forgetting that one.

Peter just needs to better manage his time. Other than that, he sees no reason to be overwhelmed. He’s just all over the place. However, his head wasn’t feeling much better.

The nurse can’t give him any medication so Peter will have to wait till he gets home.

The bell finally rings and Peter makes a dash for an empty alleyway. He doesn’t bother giving Ned his bag as he simply webs it to the wall. Peter jumps into his suit and begins his quick patrol. No more than an hour, the city gets Spider-Man for one hour and that’s it. Today, Peter Parker is needed more than Spider-Man.

Rushing to wrap the patrol up, Peter ends up slamming into a pole.

“Fuck!” He shouts and concludes patrol then and there. His arms are throbbing but that doesn’t matter, Peter still needs to get home and review his project.

The tower is freezing, and Peter makes a run to the bathroom. With no time to revel in the soothing hot water, he quickly cleans up the sweat and blood and changes into his comfort clothes. The other interns will simply deal with Peter in Harley’s hoodie and sweatpants.

Before going down to the lab, Peter goes to the medicine cabinet. His head is killing him and the pain in his arms isn’t going away. He looks at the bottle of Advil and opens it. He takes two for his headache and two more for his arms.

As he swallows the pills, Peter realizes that he hasn’t eaten yet. However, he then remembers Friday exists. “Friday, could you order a pizza and deliver it to the lab for me?”

“Of course, Peter.” Friday happily responds.

With that settled, Peter heads to the lab.

Peter is face to face with the whiteboard and one problem on it. He’s been going over it for hours. He keeps ending up with a remainder, however, it ruins the machine's code. All the other interns have taken a stab at it and none have been successful.

“This is going to be the death of me.” One of them says, which by the size of their eye bags, seems to be right.

“I swear I’m going insane. How do we keep getting a remainder? We’ve used every rational method…” Another intern says.

“We have to be missing something super obvious. Maybe, we need a new set of eyes?” Peter says and then realizes his error. They have all been staring at the same problem for the better course of an hour now, and probably all have tunnel vision.

The only issue is, they've run the problem by every intern.

“Are you going to call your Dads? I bet they could figure this out.”

And that comment struck a nerve in Peter. Mainly because he knows he can solve this. He’s solved this type of problem thousands of times before. But for some reason, he’s stuck.

They have to figure this out, as they are set to present this robot to the pantheon of scientists at Stark Industries on Thursday.

“Wait…” one of the interns speaks up, “Isn’t Harley in today?”

Peter silently cries tears of joy.

The universe is throwing him a bone.

Harley is an intern in every way but legally. Peter rushes to call the front desk and hunts Harley down. “Send Keener to lab 37, immediately. Tell him it’s life or death.”

They all let out a sigh of relief, finally having a small break from the same numbers on the whiteboard. It’s 8:45 P.M. and Harley is met with five interns surrounded by several cups of coffee and energy drinks.

“What’s going on?” Harley asks in a slight panic.

Peter doesn’t answer. He simply hands him a dry-erase marker and places him in front of the whiteboard. Harley doesn’t need direction, as Peter can see his mind running as he stares at the problem. They all leave him be.

Peter takes the time to pick up his pizza and eat a bit. He forgot how good New York pizza is. With some food in his stomach, Peter quietly sneaks off to take another pill. His arms are still throbbing and his head is killing him. At least now he has some food in his system.

He comes back to see Harley on a completely new board, the previous one filled with equations.

“Still can’t crack it?” he asks.

“Darling, I think you finally got me. What the hell is this?”

“I have no idea. We’ve been stuck on this for weeks and keep getting a remainder, which then causes a system error in the bot. Thought you’d be able to figure it out.” Peter answers.

“Do you guys still have your previous proofs?”

“Yeah, right over there.” Peter points to a stack of paper on a nearby desk. Harley nods and ruffles through the stack, his eyes quickly skimming the numbers.

Peter goes off to grab some water. He gets the compulsion to check his phone and notices he has a few texts from Tony and Stephen.

Dad: Just checking in, all good?

6:11 P.M.

Dad: Would you like an alien finger as a souvenir?

8:24 P.M

Peter laughs at the messages and sends back a quick selfie to make sure Tony knows he is indeed alive (despite what his body is telling him). To his surprise, Tony replies right away and they spend a few seconds discussing TSA guidelines for transporting severed alien fingers.

Harley then speaks up and asks, “Peter, what’s the square root of -1?”

“It’s i.” He quickly responds. The square root of -1 does not exist, so its i, which stands for an imaginary number.

“Right, and who wrote this?” Harley calls him over to review some work. He points to some long equation where there’s a smudged number.

“Does that say 1 or i?” He asks.

Peter sees red. They have all spent weeks looking over this problem, going slightly insane, all because of some poor penmanship.

“That’s supposed to be an i..”

“Yeah, but then they added it to the equation as if it were a one- which throws everything off-”

“By one,” Peter concludes. “That’s why we keep having a remainder.”

In a moment of pure blinding rage, Peter throws all the work onto the floor. His entire team had spent weeks refining their robot, all because someone misread a number. Peter was fuming.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Peter shouts.

This grabs everyone's attention. They all gather around Harley, who's picking up the paper on the floor. “Hey, at least we caught it now and not in front of the professionals.” Harley tries to reassure Peter.

The group nods, but Peter doesn’t care.

He’s beyond exhausted and at the end of his patience.

He quickly checks his phone and sees that it’s 10:22 P.M. He’s even more frustrated as he still needs to shower and do homework. However, before he storms off he speaks up, “Next time we do something like this, we are all making our numbers and variables extremely legible.” He doesn’t wait to see the looks on everyone’s faces and storms off to his room.

The entire fiasco was making his head hurt even more, so Peter pops another pill before bed. At least he ate today. Peter will take the small victory.

He lost track of how many pills he took today.

Before going to bed, Peter realizes that he doesn’t care about bothering Happy. He calls Happy and -borderline begs- him to take him to school. Happy agrees and Peter is over the moon he can sleep in a bit more.

The extra hours of sleep do wonders for Peter. He’s able to take a shower without rushing and is even able to eat a light breakfast. Peter allows himself to stop and breathe. He feels like he hasn’t had the chance to.

“Kid, are you ready to go?” Happy calls out as Peter quickly packs his bag. He nods and they both make their way to the cars. Peter hops in the back and, to his surprise, ends up falling asleep.

(It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. He looks like shit.)

It was a much needed power nap, and Peter felt slightly better. He says goodbye to Happy and makes his way to his corner. He sees Ned sitting there, eagerly waiting for him.

“Woah, dude are you okay?” Ned asks with concern. Peter simply waves him off and says he’s fine. Ned doesn’t question it and simply changes the subject to the Academic Decathlon training they have in two days. With that, Peter remembers that he needs to finish those questions. He makes a mental note to finally start them.

Peter knows he has his English test today, and he honestly can’t be bothered to review. He knows he’ll be fine.

Instead, he begins the Academic Decathlon questions he promised MJ he’d have ready for tomorrow. Now, the challenge with that is that he needs to come up with questions that are challenging- but not impossible. Which is extremely difficult.

He promised MJ 30 questions: Ten math questions, ten science questions, and ten history/geography questions. In the first two sections, Peter had it in the bag. He pulled several problems from projects he’d seen in the labs and even a few Tony used on his suits.

The history/geography ones stumped him. This was MJ’s field of expertise, not Peter’s.

However, Peter’s too stubborn to ask for help. It doubles as reviewing, in a weird way. Peter pulls several articles from various historical moments and begins crafting some questions. He convinces himself that he’s reviewing his reading compression skills.

By the time his English test rolls around, Peter has managed to complete 26 questions. He’s running on pure adrenaline and 2 more Advills, but he’s getting it done. Like clockwork, Peter blanks out during his test. He’s sure he did fine, English wasn’t ever challenging to him.

However, he can’t afford to worry about that. In the grand scheme of things, that test was less than 1% of his stress. He almost forgot about his Chemistry midterm tomorrow. Plus, he had his presentation and AcaDeca training the following day.

Peter sometimes wishes he knew how to say no.

Patrol was starting to feel more like a job. Peter dreaded it and that frustrated him because Peter loved helping people. He loved seeing people smile and making their day. Being Spider-Man is one of the things Peter’s the proudest of. However, he can’t help others if he can’t even help himself. That’s evident by the empty pill bottle in his bag.

Once again, Peter is convinced the universe is out to get him. Everything that could go wrong, goes wrong. Mr. Delmar gets held at gunpoint, the bank has two attempted robberies, Peter counts seven muggings, and finally, some punks thought it would be funny to rob the pawn shop run by the old lady. Honestly, he couldn’t catch a break.

And it was one after another. Spider-Man didn’t stop and was constantly moving between crimes. He was getting overwhelmed and his movements were getting sloppy. The worst part was that Peter wasn’t pulling back his punches. There was so much going on at once that controlling his strength was the last thing on his mind.

That’s when he finally accepted he had a problem.

He saw the blood on his hands and the horrified looks of the criminals he was hurting. Thankfully, most civilians had fled the area so they didn’t witness the grotesque image of Peter decking them with ease. So Peter had to call the cops and the ambulance to patch up the bodies he left behind.

He was getting irritable and irrational. He has to cut the patrol short. Spider-Man is becoming more of a danger rather than an aid.

His knuckles are busted open and he has bruises all over his chest. When he gets home, Peter downs another 6 pills to try and numb the pain. He hasn't eaten and he hasn’t showered but that isn’t his concern. He sloppy puts on some bandages over his wounds and immediately hits the books.

By now it's 8:48 P.M. and Peter is about to pass out. He’s staring at his desk with his chem packet and AcaDeca questions all spread out. He’s almost done but he's beginning to see spots. His head is pounding and no matter how many pills he takes, the pain isn't going away. It hurts to move and he’s hungry and he knows he stinks.

Finally, it seems the universe has him beat and Peter snaps.

Peter- against his will- breaks down. He’s crying his eyes out and his head is killing him. Peter can feel a migraine coming on and he doesn’t think he’ll survive. He begins hyperventilating and he runs for more pills. Whether or not they work doesn’t matter, Peter’s convinced himself it's better than nothing.

By this point, Peter’s blocked out all his surroundings. Therefore, he doesn’t notice when Harley walks onto the floor and calls for him.

“Hey, Peter! So, for our presentation, I was thinking we should maybe revisit the previous reversion with-” Harley stops dead in his tracks when he finds Peter.

Peter knew what he was doing was wrong. He knew this wasn’t healthy. He knew he was destroying his body. But Peter was ashamed.

He was too prideful to ask for help.

Harley simply looks at him, and Peter knows what it looks like. His hair is a mess, his hands are bloody, his face is bruised, his eye bags are heavy, and the empty pill bottle on the floor seals the deal.

“Peter, what did you do?” Harley asks with worry and anger in his voice.

“I’m fine. Harls. I’m just stressed.” Peter waves off. The last thing he wants is for Harley to lecture him. “I’m okay, you can go. I have homework I need to finish.”

“No! I’m not gonna sit around and watch you do this to yourself!” Harley yells. He starts to pace the living room back and forth, shaking his head and looking in shock.

“You preach on and on about how drugs are the downfall of our generation and now- what? You’re popping pills? Peter, what the hell?”

Peter feels awful. He feels like shit. He wants the ground to swallow him whole.

Peter knows what he’s doing is wrong. He knows he's in the wrong. But… he just wants to help people. He just wants to meet their expectations. And now… he feels like a failure, and Harley is only rubbing salt in the wound.

“Harley, please…” Peter breaks down and Harley snaps out of his angry trance.

“Please, just hold me.” Peter wails as he falls onto the floor. He holds himself tight as he tries to process the millions of thoughts swimming in his head. Harley suddenly drops to the floor and begins to comfort Peter.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what to do. I’m so stressed. And it started small.” Peter starts. He isn’t sure if he hears Harley ask questions, but now he can’t stop talking.

“I was just having such bad headaches and taking them made it better. But then I started taking them whenever I got stressed and- I was so stressed this week. Patrol was so hard and they helped with the pain, and I lost track of how many I’ve had. I’m so sorry to disappoint you, but I already feel like shit, Harls. I don’t need you reminding me of the failure I am. I already know that! I let you down, I let my Dads down, I let myself down. I let everyone down!”

“I just want my Dads.” Peter sobs into Harley’s arms. “I’m so tired…” Tears are filling his eyes and it's getting harder to breathe. His chest feels tight and he’s in so much mental anguish and physical pain that he isn’t even really present at the moment.

Harley rocks Peter back and forth. He runs his fingers through Peter’s hair and kisses his forehead. “It’s okay. I’m sorry I snapped. I just… I care about you so much I got worried.”

“Where are my Dads?”

“I’ll call them right now.” Harley then forces Peter to look at him.”Tell me what you need. Tell me how I can help you.” Peter can’t verbally answer but he simply signals towards his chest. Harley removes his suit and notices the black and blue bruises with dried blood. Harley also notices Peter's greasy hair.

“Let me make you a meal and run you a bath,” Harley whispers into Peter’s hair and hugs him tighter.

While Harley goes to the bathroom, Peter passes out on the floor, finally allowing himself some peace. He doesn’t remember falling asleep. He wakes up to the smell of chicken soup and Harley gently shaking him.

“Hey, the bath’s ready. I called your Dads and they’ll be here in the morning. Also, I talked to Ned. You’re not going tomorrow.” Harley says as he lifts Peter onto his feet and helps him remove his suit.

“Harls, I have to go tomorrow. I have my midterm and I need to give MJ the questions I promised her.” Peter answers.

Harley simply shakes his head. “I say you take it next week, however, if it bothers you that much, after tomorrow you can go. I’m sure Tony can sort that out with your teacher. But you need to take at least a day off. And if the presentation stresses you out that much, I can cover for you.”

Peter should feel relieved but he doesn’t want to give up just yet. He’s done so much to make it through this week, he just wants to see it to the end. “Can we talk about this later?” Peter asks.

He’s down to his boxers and Harley has a full view of the bruises littered all over Peter’s body. Peter can see Harley is fighting the urge to say no, but instead, he simply nods his head and kisses his cheek. “Sure, just go get cleaned up.”

Peter agrees and makes his way to the bathtub. Nice that Harley probably figured Peter can’t stand long enough for a shower.

The water is warm and sends immediate relief throughout his whole body. Peter sinks into the tub and lets the water engulf him. He looks at his body and notices just how severe his injuries are. He should probably have Stephen check those out when he gets back.

After an incredible half hour in the tub, Peter finally gets out. He didn’t realize how much he truly needed that.

He changes into some light PJs and finds Harley by the kitchen island with a bowl of chicken soup.

Peter can't remember the last time he had an actual meal. Harley sat next to him as Peter slowly drank the soup. “So, what about tomorrow?” Harley asks.

Peter checks his phone and realizes it's 10:41 P.M. He had two options: he could either take tomorrow off, or he could suck it up.

“Would you mind helping me study?” He asks. Before Harley protests, Peter cuts him off. “I have my midterm first thing in the morning, after that I’ll have Happy take me home. That lets me give MJ the questions I owe her.” Peter didn’t go through the worst week of his life only to not see it till the end. He was stubborn like that.

Harley didn’t seem to like the idea, but he agreed nonetheless. When Peter finished his soup, they both headed to his room and Harley quizzed him on a few problems. Peter was feeling okay, his anxiety was just through the roof.

They both called it quits at around midnight. Harley crashed on the couch and Peter was out like a light.

He only had two days left. He was so close.

When the morning rolls around, Peter wishes he chose to stay home. He is groggy and tired, but still feeling the best he’s felt all week. He assumes Harley was already up and making him breakfast while he went to shower.

They had both agreed that Peter would skip patrol. He was in no condition to help anyone and would probably just hurt himself again, which isn't helpful to anyone.

To his surprise, however, his Dads were home. He walked into the living room to see Stephen making breakfast (no sign of Harley).

“Good morning,” Peter says as he goes to hug his Dad.

“Hey, Harley told us what happened. Just text us when your exam is over and we’ll come to get you. I also need to check your injuries, Peter.” Stephen said as he lightly tossed Peter’s hair and serves him a small stack of pancakes.

Peter silently hopes Harley didn’t mention the pills.

By the time Peter finished his breakfast, he wanted to vomit. He hadn’t stomached that much food all week and his body was trying to reject it. He holds it down as Tony pulls up to Peter’s school. “Text me the second you’re done. Promise?”

Peter sees the worry in Tony’s eyes and simply nods. He already feels guilty. He doesn’t need the reminder. (Looks like Tony understood that.)

As Peter gets to school, he immediately tracks down MJ. He hands her the questions, doesn’t wait for a thank you, and runs to the bathroom.

He can just feel vomit rising up his throat. His eyes are losing focus and he’s currently heaving over the toilet. “Maybe I should have stayed home,” Peter thinks as he stares into the mirror over the sink. His dark circles are getting worst and his skin is breaking out. He splashes some water on his face and quietly reminds himself that he’s almost done. “Just two more days.”

The bell rings and Peter heads off to his classroom. He’s taking his midterm first thing in the morning and right now, he’s fighting to stay upright.

Almost routine, Peter receives his test and flips it over. He knows he knows the material, he just has test anxiety. The studying he did with Harley definitely helps, so he’s confident he’ll do fine.

He ends up blanking out. He doesn’t remember much of the exam, nor many of the questions. However, he feels lighter, like a weight has been taken off his shoulder.

Peter ends up vomiting in the bathroom.

He’s heaving over the toilet and clinging on for dear life. His throat burns and the aftertaste of his breakfast is in his mouth, with a mixture of acid. He’s drenched in sweat and can’t see straight and he feels a migraine coming on.

Quickly, he texts Tony that he can pick him up. Peter gets off the floor and washes his face in the sink. His face is sickly pale and the lights are blinding him. Out of habit, Peter reaches for his pockets to get a pill, only to realize that he doesn’t have any.

That movement alone scares him.

He’s worried he’s feeling dependent.

When he leaves the bathroom, he quickly tracks down MJ in the library. “MJ, here are the questions I promised you. I’m so sorry they’re so late.” He profusely, but rapidly apologizes to her as he hands her the packet.

She doesn’t even look at them, instead places her hand on his shoulder and looks him in the eyes. “Pete, are you okay?” Just being forced to look at her is giving him a headache. The library lights are a blinding yellow and he can hear noise from the hallway.

“Yeah, just a little headache,” Peter says, but MJ still looks at him with worry. “MJ, I’m fine.” Peter doesn’t even believe in himself. He has that gazed look people have after they vomit their guts out and a small twitch in his eyes due to the lighting.

It seems like she doesn’t believe him either. Before she speaks, before she pities him, Peter runs to the office, knowing Tony will arrive any second.

As he waits in the office, he decides it's better to wait in the bathroom. The office had too many people talking, stapling, and filing. The office had too much noise.

That was the main thing he hated about his powers, his senses were heightened, making his migraines a hundred times worse. He’s on the brink of tears when the receptionist yells out his name to alert him that he’s leaving.

It seems that Tony notices so he doesn’t speak, simply thanks the staff, and ushers him into the car. Tony shuts off the radio and hands Peter a jacket in the backseat. Immediately, Peter covers his eyes and attempts to drift off to sleep. He’s just realizing how tired he is, mentally that is.

The ride home is a much needed break. He only has to get through tomorrow’s AcaDeca practice. (He’s not expecting to stay conscious during class).

When they do eventually arrive at the Tower, Peter can’t stand. His body has completely given out on him. Tony ends up carrying the boy inside and up the elevator to the medical compound.

“Okay, kid, you’re scaring the hell out of me. What happened?” Peter wakes up on one of the medical beds and is met with the horrible blinding lights in his face.

He’s too overwhelmed to talk and simply points to them, silently begging Tony to turn them off. He does, thankfully.

“I took on too much,” Peter says. “Everything just pilled up on the same week, and you guys weren’t there, and I don’t know how to say no..” The tears finally begin to spill as Peter talks. His head is killing him and his body is sworn and the voice in his head is nagging him even more. The look on Tony’s face says it all. Peter let him down, Peter disappointed him, and Peter worried him. “I’m sorry, I thought I could handle it.”

Tony doesn’t answer and simply steps aside as Stephen appears to tend to Peter’s medical needs. He doesn’t say anything, he just stands off to the side and looks at the ground. Peter can’t read his face, he can’t tell what's going on in his head. Is he angry? Upset? Not knowing is somewhat worse.

When Stephen finishes, he tells Peter that he’s simply dehydrated and only has a few bruises, nothing extreme. Seems like most of his injuries were healed due to his enhanced abilities.

No one says anything. They all look at each other and quietly leave for their own spaces. Peter can’t muster the courage to tell them what happened. Right now, he just wants the ground to swallow him whole. Peter makes it to his room, takes a much needed shower, and tries to sleep. He’s awakened, however, by Tony at his door with a plate of food.

“Oh, thanks but I’m not really-”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Tony coldly states and Peter shuts up. He hands Peter the plate and Peter realizes he isn’t leaving until Tony sees him clean the plate.

Reluctantly, Peter ate. His body needed to get used to consuming food on a regular schedule, not just every other day. When Peter finishes, he hands Tony the plate and apologies once again.

Tony doesn’t say anything, instead reaches over and kisses his forehead.

The next morning is a little better. Peter feels well-rested and his stomach isn’t doing flips. (He’s happy he kept his food down this time.)

He knows today his only task is to make it through the AcaDeca training (which would be easy, as he made the questions), and make it through his internship presentation. That alone takes the pressure off him, with a bonus that it’s Friday. Peter desperately needed the weekend.

He doesn’t even bother changing out of his pajama pants. He just throws on a hoodie and walks out the door. When he gets to school, it seems like MJ and Ned plotted to corner him. They both catch him in his usual corner and block any exits. “Pete, you gotta talk to us. Are you okay?” Ned starts out sweetly.

“Yeah, you look like a bus hit you on the way here,” said MJ. He laughs at her bluntness but assures them that everything is okay. (It’s not, but he thinks he’s getting better)

Today is just about staying awake- if he can even manage that. His migraine is still lingering and the school bells still hurt, but he thinks he’ll be okay.

Peter is proven wrong the minute he sits at his desk. Once he’s in his chair, his head is on the desk and he’s out cold. His body is catching up on the sleep he’s missed all week. No one bothers to wake him up, and if they did, Peter didn’t notice. Today marks the first day Peter slept in every class. Usually, he’d chug coffee to keep himself awake, but today he just couldn’t find the strength.

Every time the bells ring to switch classes, he’s violently jolted awake. Some teachers tried to check up on him, however, Peter still refuses any help and claims he’s okay.

When the final bell rings, Peter is beyond overjoyed. (No more loud bells in his ears.) He quickly makes his way to the auditorium for the AcaDeca training and throws himself into a chair.

Slowly, the rest of the team makes their way inside and immediately, “Parker, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Flash speaks up. And Peter can’t even be mad, he knows he looks awful. Flash saw him completely passed out in chemistry and history. Thankfully, MJ shuts him down and begins the training.

As MJ begins reading out questions to the team, Peter gets a text on his phone.

Harls: Hey, hope you’re feeling a bit better. The presentation got moved to 7 tonight, btw. Xx

3:56 P.M.

With a sigh of relief, Peter relaxes a bit and is able to focus on the training. While most of it was pretty easy, given that he made the questions, MJ threw in some surprise ones as well. The team discussed strategies and tactics, but Peter didn’t really listen. He patiently waited for the MJ to call the meeting to an end before he bolted out the door.

Tony was already outside the school. He’s patiently waiting in what appears to be Happy’s car. Peter hops in and just slumps into the seat. “Remind me to never take on any more responsibilities,” he says as he throws his bag into the backseat.

Tony laughs and replies, ‘Kid, you and I both know that you need to learn to say no. It’s about you taking on too much- well, partially that- but it’s also that you take on extra when you can easily say no.”

Peter thinks about that for a moment before responding, “Well, what am I supposed to do? I can’t just say no to someone in need.” By now, Tony is pulling onto the road as Peter leans his head against the window. “That’s true, just be mindful of those who need help and those who are taking advantage of you. Remember, put on your own oxygen mask before helping others.”

What Tony says rings true, and Peter sits with it for a bit. Maybe people are taking advantage of him. Or maybe he just took on too much. Right now, Peter is too exhausted to figure out which one applies to his current situation.

Eventually, Peter allows himself to close his eyes, finally allowing himself a moment of peace. (Sleeping on school desks is never comfortable, ignore if anyone tells you otherwise.) As he lays back against the seats, with the soothing hum of the car, Peter drifts off to sleep.

When they arrive at the Tower, Tony isn’t sure whether or not to wake Peter. It looks like he’s finally comfortable and finally resting. However, one quick glance at the clock and he knows Peter would be upset if he didn’t wake him up in time to review for his presentation. “Hey,” Tony starts gently shaking Peter, “We’re home. It’s 4:30 P.M. Figured you and Harley would want some time to prep for tonight, and maybe even have some dinner before.”

Peter musters up all the strength he was to get up and make his way out of the car. He thanks Tony and sluggishly drags himself to the lab. The bright lights from the Tower and the constant jostling are enough to wake him up a tad, but he’s still rather dazed.

As he enters the lab, Peter is met with Harley and his team all frantically reviewing. Harley is pointing at people and assigning roles as he catches a glimpse that Peter arrived. “-And you, get Peter a coffee, please!” The intern runs off and quickly returns with a cup of expresso for Peter.

“Alright, what do we need to go over,” Peter says as he takes a sip of his drink- and suddenly he feels much more awake. Harley begins running down everything they’ve covered. Who will be discussing the prompt, the robot, the calculations, and its real-world implications. “We just need someone to finalize the posters. Do you have the files, Peter?”

Peter nods, taking another sip of his expresso. (He can feel his entire body shaking.) “Yeah, I got them. Just to clarify, it’s one poster showing the rendered robot, another showing the entire crew, and one more for the overview and prompt?” Harley nods as Peter sets off to work in the corner. He and the team had agreed that he would begin the presentation and introduce their design, leaving the math to the other interns and Harley, who was far more awake and present. Peter quickly notices that he’s drank all of his expresso, and goes off to get more. His body is shaking and he feels dizzy, but he needs to stay awake. He just needs to make it through tonight.

Opening his computer, Peter finalizes all the posters and sends them down to the printing lab. He takes it as his excuse to get up and walk around, making sure his legs don’t fall asleep. He starts looking over all the reports, research, and calculations they did, and everything looks good. However, you can never be too sure.

Harley seems to be stressed out of his mind. “Okay, we start in an hour. Anything else we need to get done?” he frantically asks the group. After a series of ‘no’, Peter mentions that he’s going to pick up the posters and bring them up and that it should be the final thing they need. Harley lets out a sigh of relief and opts to join Peter as they both head downstairs.

The ride down the elevator is calming. Peter takes it as his chance to drop his head onto Harley’s shoulder. To this, Harley brings up his hand and begins playing with Peter’s hair. “I’m so tired..: Peter says, mumbling into his shoulders, The expresso is making him shake and he refuses to drink more, genuinely concerned for his health. “I know. You just need to do this one last thing, then you’re free.” Harley says as he places a light kiss on Peter’s head before they step put the elevator. Thankfully, the printing lab was empty. Both boys quickly gather the posters and then stand there for a moment.

“You know, I’m really sorry I snapped at you,” Harley says quietly. He’s looking down at the floor and won’t look up. “I was just so scared, I’m sorry if I made it worse.”

“No, no you didn’t.” Peter starts, “Yeah, it hurt, but I needed the reality check. I was so far in my own head that I didn’t realize what exactly I was doing. I didn’t consider how it’d affect me, or you…” Peter replies. They both look up and meet each others’ eyes. Peter notices the beginning of tears forming in Harley’s eyes and he makes his way over to catch them before they fall.

“I had a stumble. I’m…” and Peter wants to say that he’s okay, but he doesn’t want to lie anymore. He wants to fall over. He wants to cry. He wants to go to bed. “I’m getting help,” he concludes. Harley nods in approval of that statement and makes his way to kiss Peter’s foreahead. I’m just happy you’re okay,” He whispers.

Peter smiles and after a few seconds of enjoying each others embrace, they pull apart and begin to head back upstairs. By now, it’s 6:17 P.M., and Peter chooses to get a meal and a shower in before he presents. He is fighting to stay awake, as the espresso is wearing off and he can feel himself crashing soon.

After a quick warm shower, Peter finds himself a plate of food waiting for him at the table. Stephen is in the kitchen cleaning dishes when he noticies Peter. “Hey, I saved you a plate. Nervous?”

Peter immediately begins to scarf down the food. He feels slightly more refreshed after the shower, however the food finally makes him feel complete. His stomach is no longer growling and he’s not so light headed anymore. After a little small talk with Stephen, Peter feels a little more relaxed. They fall into a casual conversation, delicately avoiding the topic of Peter’s situation. He’s thankful, truly. He feels guilty enough and hearing about how it hurrt those around him just makes him feel worse.

By now, its 6:48 P.M. and Harley comes rushing into the kitchen. Without forming a coherent sentence, Peter understands what Harley is trying to say. “Robot. Present. Prep. Now.” Immediately, they both get up and begin bolting to the lab. In the distance, they hear Stephen wish them good luck.

The reason they were both so stressed was because of their reputations. It meant the expectations were even higher. These weren’t scientist that were just impressed because Peter was related to Tony Stark, these are people who couldn’t give less of a shit about Tony’s fame. However, they took it into account when setting the expectation.

When they make it to the lab, the other interns are also franctincally reviewing flash cards and pacing around the room. Peter luckily didn’t need to prepare for much, he just reviewed the outline of the introduction. Instead, he opted for drinking more espresso, trying to make it through the final push. His reward after this would be a long awaited nap.

As the scientist enter the room, Peter escapes into his safe space. If it was nay other day, he’d be fully present and in the moment, which might have caused an anxiety attack. However, Peter is just too tired to give a fuck. He disappears into his safe space and puts on his confident persona.

He goes trough the overview and introduction smoothly. Not really remembering where he is, just that he’s talking. Peter isn’t even present in the moment when the team begins to discuss the calcutioans and revisions they went through.

Peter only snaps back to reality when the board claps and congratulations them. Their faces ins’t giving anything away, he can;t tell if they’re disappointed or impressed. But honestly, he doesn’t care.

They end up finishing at 9:51 P.M. and Peter is beat. He can hardly stand up straight, and Harley is supporting his every step. When they finally making it to his bedroom, Peter dones;t even bother to get under the sheets. He falls onto his bed and the minute his head hits the mattress, he is out like a light.

Harley chuckles at the sight and draps a blanket over Peter, before kissing his forehead. Peter finally gets a break after, what he considers to be, the worst week of his life.

End.

Reposting the fic I posted here a few months ago. Wanna get into formatting more on tumblr!

#peter parker #harley keener #parkner #peter x harley #peter parker x harley keener #mcu #marvel #mcu fanfiction #i love them #mlm #gay

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