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It was around 5:30P.M as the pair made their way to Harley’s beat up truck, hopping in and turning on the radio. They’d stroll around the mall every Sunday, a bonding thing that appeared one day, and both had no complaints.
They usually went out way earlier, but Peter had to wait for his unstoppable (which was stoppable, apparently,) nosebleed to come to a halt. Before they were destined to go shopping he thought it would be a good idea to do a quick patrol before…which ended up with him in his bathroom, a stolen tampon from Pepper and Tony’s bathroom stuck up his nose.
Harley stood in the doorway as Peter tilted his head forward, arms resting beside the sink as the blood couldn’t even be stopped by the designed blood sucking tampon.
Through his laughter, Harley crossed his arms and asked, “how come you’re leaning forward?”
Peter made a noncommittal noise and looked at his brother from his peripheral, adjusting his arms to lean more comfortably. “You’re supposed to do this, or else the blood will go down your throat.” He stated, surprised that the Harley Keener didn’t know this, with all the fights he’s been in. As an after thought, he added, “don’t tell Tony, I don’t need him on my back. It’s just a nosebleed.”
The other hummed, feigning confrontation as he brought a finger to his chin, before throwing it down with a smile when Peter groaned.
“Chill, I don’t want him raining on our parade too.” He pushed himself off the doorway and made his way to the couple tampons on the counter, unwrapping a new one and passing it to Peter—who took it gratefully, swiftly replacing the soaked one and throwing it in the trash.
They stayed there until it was evident that this would be the last tampon used, both sighing with relief as they made their way out of the spider’s bathroom.
That ended up with them here, running late with good vibes as they rode in the truck, talking about nothing.
“Dude I walked into Tony’s lab earlier, and he looked gnarly, like he just got into a fight with a bear, gnarly.” Harley rolled his eyes, steering the wheel as he took an exit. “Then, Pepper walked out of the elevator and gasped at the sight of him. She woke him up just to scold him. It was hilarious.”
Noticing the mall in the distance, Peter grabbed his backpack from under his feet and put it on his shoulder. He always brought it with him, it was a necessity. Tony had got Peter some noise canceling headphones a while back, sensing the younger boy’s discomfort with more than usual populated places. Then, he made these amazing glasses, way more tinted than any normal ones so Peter could handle harsh lights. Those were the two most important things he brought with him, other random things in his backpack just for fun.
“We keep trying to tell him, but he always faces the bell peppers wrath.” Harley snickered at the nickname for Pepper as he pulled into the parking lot, Peter smiling along with him.
Then, the boy perked up, remembering something as he reached into his pocket. He pulled out a wad of cash, passing it to a very confused Peter.
“What’s this for?” He asked curiously, holding the money carefully.
“Count it for me, will ya?” Harley answered, putting a hand on the seat as he reversed into a parking spot, brows furrowing in concentration.
The spider boy hummed, opening the wad and counting it as his brother made his truck fit perfectly in the lines. The smell of money immediately filled his nostrils as he moved the counted money into his opposite hand smoothly, coming up to a total of 48 dollars.
He and Harley preferred to make their own money instead of using Tony’s, it felt more comfortable than accepting the billionaires cash. And it kind of felt like they were a charity case because of it. They’d talked about it before, late at night in Peter’s room, whispering despite the noise cancellation in each room.
He was folding the money back up by the time Harley pulled his keys from the ignition, looking over at his brother pointedly.
“48 bucks for you, kind sir,” he grinned, placing the money in the palm of Harley’s hand and opening the car door, hearing the other do the same.
They started for the mall entrance, Peter chatting as Harley said his thanks and placed the money in his pocket. Soon, they were inside, pausing to get boba before resuming their stroll.
“Any cool missions recently?” Harley asked as he eyed some combat boots placed in a window, the obvious ‘anything that I don’t know of’ question lingering in his sentence.
Peter rolled his eyes as he grabbed his brother and walked into the eyed combat boots abode, “well, no, but me and Clint have been thinking of starting a prank wars with the team…” a mischievous glint formed in his eyes as he finished, “do you wanna help?”
Harley turned to face him, a hand placed on his heart as he mocked defeat, “do I? Of course, bro!”
He pushed his brother playfully before turning back around to face the mesmerizing boots, leaving Peter to roam around the store as he thought of ideas. Him and Clint were thinking of making arrows that spewed confetti when they made contact, or better yet, sprinkled confetti as it flew through the air. He just couldn’t decide yet, since he would be the one making it, obviously. But if Harley was in the workshop with him, he’s sure it’d be more chaotic.
Snapping him out of thought, a voice calling his name from across the store gained his attention. He followed it, touching fabrics that looked pleasing as he made his way. Some were, but some made him want to claw his hand off immediately.
He stopped in front of Harley, who was sitting on a stool with one combat boot on, looking smug as he moved his foot to inspect the quality.
“These are sick. I think I might get it.” He made a quick show of action as he shot his leg out, letting out a small war cry.
Peter moved in sync with his spider-sense, dodging his brother's weak attempt at an attack and letting a lopsided smile slide on his face as he watched the various acts of violence his brother put on with only one foot. “Yeah, have mercy for the future victims.” He laughed, tugging the strands of his backpack.
“Hell of a beating, I’ll tell you.” Harley’s eyes crinkled as he took off the shoe, sliding on his old sneakers.
Putting it back in the box, Peter picked it up to examine the price. “Only 37, not bad for some good quality shoes.” He summed, stuffing it under his arm and holding a hand out for his brother to grab, even though he didn’t need it. Harley grabbed onto it and pulled himself up with a dramatic huff, bumping into Peter with a smile. He’d learned early on that Peter was quite the affectionate guy, always up for unnecessary contact and Harley didn’t mind.
“Don’t forget tax,” Harley reminded, walking to the checkout counter, Peter following close behind. “See anything you like?” He asked, looking back at Peter.
He scoffed, letting a lazy hand gesture at the items around them, “this is your style, Harl.” He untucked the shoe box from under his arm and handed it to Harley as they neared the counter.
“Yeah, yeah. Nerd.” He consoled, patting Peter’s shoulder as he put the shoes down and pulled out his cash.
The store clerk piped up as she grabbed the box, “did you have a nice time finding everything?” She asked innocently, rehearsed. The scanner beeped as she ran the box over it, a total of $38.65 on the screen.
“Yep!” Harley answered, never rude to non deserving strangers. Opening the cash from its folded wad, he began handing over the total amount, but then froze.
“I thought you said I had 48?” He asked blankly.
Peter bristled, “huh?”
“I’m missing 10 dollars, Pete.” Harley said almost accusingly, frustration bleeding into his tone. He turned his head sharply to look at Peter, causing his face to heat at the stare.
“I-I’ll cover the rest.” He stuttered, pulling out his phone and waiting for the clerk to nod in approval before tapping it on the machine and stepping back in embarrassment.
The other grunted a thank you before grabbing the bag and stalking out of the store, Peter high on his heels as he kept his head down. It was truly embarrassing—maybe he dropped the ten extra dollars somewhere? He’s always been clumsy, tiny things slipping his mind because it had bigger things on it.
“You can’t even count cash now?” Harley chastised, not even turning around. Peter snapped his head up, hands finding the strands of his backpack anxiously. “Maybe you should spend more time at school, rather than being your alter ego.”
“I—Harley, it was a mistake. I’m sure you had 48 dollars, maybe I dropped it, I’m sorry.” He gawked at the back of his brother's head, trying to settle the guilt about making a fool of him and losing his cash.
He knew Harley didn’t mean anything he said, he knew he was just upset, but it still didn’t help. He felt helpless.
“Maybe you’re just stupid.” Harley muttered, not caring if Peter heard. His own face was burning with embarrassment and his head was swimming with frustration. He knew he was overreacting, but sometimes he couldn’t stop what he said.
Peter stopped dead in his tracks, face going blank.
He’d apologized, yet Harley was still mad at him. He made it clear he was upset with Peter’s miscalculation, and wouldn’t accept an apology as of now.
But it pinched Peter’s heart in a way he still couldn’t be used to. He was never one to be scolded, aunt May usually sat him down and talked to him, both coming to an understanding at the end. With Tony, he’s had some bad arguments before, which left him feeling empty, like ice cold water had been poured on him. But they would resolve it, and everything would be good.
The feeling was still foreign, though.
Plus, having a big (only by a few months,) brother was a different experience, different expectations. Him and Harley were inseparable, the brother bond strong. Yeah, Morgan was their sibling too, although something about being close in age to his older brother was different.
He chewed on his lip before calling out, “I’ll be home later, don’t wait up for me.”
Harley stopped, now a ways far, before turning to face Peter. Confusion made his eyebrows dip and mouth slightly open.
He gave a smile—more of a grimace—before spinning on his heel and walking to a different exit.
The other blinked once, then twice, before sighing.
He’d been too harsh on Peter, his little brother. It was just a mistake, yet he insulted his education. He knew Peter didn’t deal well with conflict, it being anger more so. He knew the boy was clumsy and meant no harm.
It’s just—mistakes like this ticked him off. Harley knew he needed to work on that, he knew—he knew a lot of things, though they never reached him through the fog.
Sighing again, he made his way out of the mall and hopped in his truck, putting the key in the ignition before taking the bag and setting it on the, supposed to be occupied, passenger seat.
Pulling out of the lot, he reached over to turn up the radio before freezing, eyes locking on to the crisp, but crumbled, 10 dollar bill sitting comfortably on the floor of the truck.
Well shit, he thought.
Peter sat on a roof near the tower, legs swinging on the edge. He was humming some unfamiliar tune that made its way in his head, backpack tightly snug on his back.
Fresh air always helped him, even though he didn’t know what for.
His emotions were hard to explain. More to express.
It was like a switch went off when he was overwhelmed with too many emotions, leaving him feeling empty and conflicted. His mind would quiet too, which made him even more lost. He didn’t know why, or when, he started dealing with his emotions coming in packed like this. It was like he had to unravel them himself, get knee high in his heart and dig out the reason, or wait for another emotion to replace the emptiness.
Right now, he felt fine. Unbothered.
His heart told other stories.
It was like a weight, one he couldn’t lift for once, weighing down in his chest. It was weird because his mind felt clear and his body felt normal, though with a very non normal feeling of confusion holding his heart down.
Sometimes he just gave up trying to tell his emotions apart. Not everything needs an answer, right?
So as he pushes off the ledge, free falling until he shoots out a web and makes his way home… he doesn’t mind the odd throbbing in his heart.
The window opened automatically as he neared the tower, sliding in gracefully as he thanked FRIDAY. The A.I. peeped with affirmation before leaving the room quiet.
Well, as quiet as it can be with the heartbeat of his brother occupying the space.
Peter shrugged off his suit, jumping with one leg to his closet as he pulled it off his ankle. He slid on some sweats and pulled on a science pun shirt before going to his desk and sitting down in his chair, ignoring the bed as Harley was currently sprawled on it.
He picked up a pencil and grabbed his notebook—specifically for hero activities, such as prank war ideas, and shifted in his seat, hearing the intake of breath from behind.
He patiently waited, pencil stilling above the paper.
“Pete…” Harley started, the bed creaking slightly as he made his way to sit on the edge, facing Peter. The spider boy obliged in the obvious act of interest and turned around, playing with his pencil.
“I’m sorry I acted like that towards you. And what I said, that isn’t true at all. You’re one of the smartest people I know.” He admitted, making eye contact to get the point across. Then, he smiled sheepishly, pulling out something green from his pocket. “You were right, it was 48.”
Peter's eyes widened at the ten dollar bill in his brother's hand, the weight in his heart lessening as color came back to his face.
“Thanks… Harley. For apologizing.” He shook his head in disbelief, smiling as he got up and made his way to sit next to the delinquent.
Harley put a hand on Peter’s shoulder, leaning back till he hit the bed with a ‘oof’ before smirking at him, “you know, I woke up in my bed this morning.”
Peter sighed and laid next to him, heart becoming warm with love, prompting him to finish, “and?”
“I’m pretty sure I fell asleep on the couch.” He pouted the slightest, crossing his arms over his chest and turning his head to face Peter.
“Maybe when Tony left, you woke up and went to your bedroom, you just don’t remember it.” Peter concluded, sweat beading on his eyebrow.
“You see, I could believe that if you didn’t tuck me in.” Harley narrowed his eyes, a laugh bubbling out from his mouth before he could even finish.
Peter groaned, pushing him away. “Shut up, I knew you were going to complain about neck pain, and I wanted to avoid it.” He tried to save face, scoffing at the smile on his brother's face. “And you’re pretty bitchy.” He added with a sly smirk.
Harley gasped, reaching over to the top of the bed and grabbing a pillow to hit Peter. The boy squealed, arms raised to cover the blow as he got mercilessly beaten.
The door to his room creaked open, revealing Morgan. Her face lit up as she rushed over, lifting a leg to hop on the bed. “Are we beating up Petey?” She asked excitedly, gaining a groan from the victim.
“Morg, no! Beat up Harley!” Peter tried, laughing.
“Okay!” She answered, then hit him square in the face with a pillow.
All three of them laughed as the one sided pillow fight became mutual, squeals echoing through the penthouse.