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“Harley!” It’s the only warning he gets before Peter comes crashing through, socks slipping from underneath him and arms flailing to catch himself on the table. It shakes, sending pencils scattering over the surface as the jar tips over. Peter doesn’t seem to mind, looking up at him with that dumb dopey grin.
“Patrol?” Harley asks, already reaching over to grab his earpiece. Peter nods, bouncing on his toes. He turns back to his blueprints, muffling a snicker as Peter changed behind him. It’s slightly later into the night so the patrol wouldn’t be as long, but May had finished work early and Peter wanted to talk to her before leaving. Another crash sounds out from behind him.
“Aren’t you supposed to be Spider-Man, Darling? You know, cool vigilante that swings across buildings and saves kittens? Oh, wait-“ Harley spins around, deadpan as the holographic device in his lap displays a compilation of Spider-Man faceplanting into various surfaces. “It all checks out now.”
“Very funny, Keener. Be back in 4.”
Peter presses a kiss onto his lips before slipping his mask on and Friday opens the window, allowing his boyfriend to hurl himself out the window with an exhilarated yell. Harley shakes his head fondly, turning his earpiece on and greeting Ned.
The night’s pretty slow, only a couple attempted robberies from ATMs and a bunch of kittens and misdirected people on the streets. Somewhere in the middle of the second ATM robbery, MJ chimes in and begins a discussion over their English essays. Peter groans. Harley cackles, he knows his boyfriend hadn’t started. A two-week deadline typically meant Peter would begin as late as possible. MJ, also aware of this, jibes at him and they team up to run both him and Ned into the ground.
Harley lets the conversation wash over him after hour 2, zoning back into the blueprints making a mess of his desk and the thought of his current life. Truth be told, he still couldn’t believe he’s still actually living at the Stark Tower.
Tony had already been calling him weekly so the moment Peter had entered the man’s life, he also entered Harley’s. They became fast friends exchanging quips as they worked on projects together, mere projections in their workshops, miles between them. Once Peter and May had moved in, Tony offered to fly Harley out for the first time. And Peter had asked him out the moment they met in real life. The arrangement only lasted for a little over a year, with Harley being flown in from Tennessee every so often when he had time to spare.
If he came in during weekends, he could be found sprawled out on the couch racing Clint and Sam in Mario kart if they had come down for their bi-weekly visits or weaving through the intern labs to talk to any stragglers that decided to stay. If not, he’d be in one of the many common rooms. It’s hilarious how rarely he had stepped into the private labs before. Now, Pepper or Rhodey had to drag all three of them out.
None of that really mattered anyways because a week before his exams in sophomore year, Harley’s school had expelled him. Without informing him prior, in fact. He remembers the day clearly; the way ice ran down his back and for the first time in years his hands shook with no indication of ever stopping.
He had shown up on the steps, flannel tied around his waist and huffing. Willow, his best friend and dance partner who waited for him per usual, slapped the upside of his head and together, they walked in. Only to find Mrs O’Reily standing tall with folded arms, demanding Harley go home. He had scoffed and tried pushing past her but more staff had begun to block his path, insistent. Willow had long been pulled away behind the wall of teachers, along with every other student that trailed behind them.
He'd never felt so ganged up against. Sure, he wasn’t popular, but he wasn’t hated either. He made sure to keep his secrets that could cause such a thing under tight wraps, like the fact that he had a boyfriend, that Abby was ace, that he was one of the heirs of Stark Industries. Hell, he grew up with these people courtesy of their little town and yet he’s somehow he’s facing the army of teachers alone.
He remembers Principal Moore stumbling out, yelling at them to get back to classes, turning to Harley and asking him to sit outside his office because he was expelled. That’s when his hands started shaking, blood draining from his face and his mind drifting as students yell out in protest and he’s dragged away. They called his mother up, her scrambling in on her off day, ready to negotiate him back in but there was no saving this.
He'd shown them up. Too advanced, they claimed. Harley was not fit for the only high school in his area thus they kicked him out, stripping him of everything he’d ever known. No more sneaking blueprints into English, no jokes in Biology, no dance, no Willow. He’s still bitter about that last part, they were two weeks away from their next regional and his expulsion meant Willow had been forced to go solo and the team had to recentre themselves.
His mother told Tony. Tony Told Pepper, who told Rhodey who told the rest of the team. Harley told Peter. That was the hardest laugh he had in days, watching Peter’s jaw drop and subsequently May’s as Peter runs up to her to tell her the blasphemous news.
Originally, Harley was then flown out with his family to cheer him up. Peter made the mistake of bringing Harley over to Midtown for AcaDec. Before he knew it, he was enrolled into the school and living at the tower full time and also in Midtown’s DanceSport team. That had surprised him greatly but he was grateful nonetheless, especially for Cindy who clicked instantly with him and they began tearing up the competition like a storm. Both of them would sit in for AcaDec as well, much to Mr Harrington’s displeasure.
“Earth to Harley? Are you and Cindy coming on Monday or do you guys have practice?” Ned’s voice startles him back into reality. He hums to buy himself time. That’s a mistake, he can already feel Peter’s brow scrunching in concern.
“We’ll swing by after, ya’ll stay way too late for practices in my opinion.”
‘Thanks for your input. I, however, do not take advice from people who dump an entire jug of hair gel on their head.” MJ butts in. That clouds the comms over with bouts of laughter. Harley rolls his eyes, taking a glance around his room. Almost all of it was new, bought by Tony and Pepper when he moved in. There’s sprinkles of personality here and there but he did miss some of his belongings back at the farmhouse. He shudders at the thought of going back. He’s certain Tony would grab his things for him or send him over to do so but he hadn’t felt ready. It’s almost too concrete, sealing the deal that he’d be uprooting the life he once had and his state had finally done him in and broken the last straw.
Peter comes home, concern dancing about in his eyes but Harley brushes him away and wishes him goodnight.
When he wakes, it’s to a notification on his phone from Abby.
Nuisance: Mama’s inviting ya’ll home for Christmas.
Well, nothing’s sweeter than facing the music.
He thinks breakfast is going great. No one has pointed out his drawn-out chewing yet. Peter’s rambling a mile per minute, too much energy for 8 in the morning of a weekend. The rest of the gang would be arriving in an hour or two so Harley braces himself. It’s more polite to bring it up around the people actually invited.
“Um.” He interjects when Peter comes to a lull. Pepper’s eyes slide over to him immediately. He takes it back, Pepper definitely knows something is up. “Mama and Abby’s invited us home for Christmas. Us, May and Rhodey.”
He’s proud of himself for not faltering on the word ‘home’. Pepper and Tony share a look. Peter’s grinning so widely that Harley’s afraid his face might actually split into two. It’s endearing enough to get Harley’s lips pulling upwards too though, so he scoops another bite of eggs.
“You sure you want to, honey?”
“Yeah, why not. Haven’t properly seen Willow since, y’know?” Harley shrugs. “Could show Pete around, too- break the city boy's heart and all.”
“Rhodey might be a miss. I’ll text Esther about it after we talk to May.”
Harley smiles. Peter slips his hand over his, squeezing. It does the opposite of reassuring him, sending his stomach into a roll.
The details get confirmed that night once May got home. She couldn’t make it and Rhodey would come by later in order to visit his sister first but the rest of them were set to arrive in Tennessee on the last day of school before the holidays. It checked out, allowing them to get in before word could spread well enough and Harley could surprise Willow.
Peter had literally jumped for joy when Harley’s Mama confirmed it, bargaining with the Avengers for favours in trade for access to a photo of Harley wearing a cowboy hat. Harley simply sat back and smiled, watching his boyfriend vibrate out of his skin, his fingers tapping incessantly against his thigh.
He doesn’t sleep well that night, eyes staring blankly up at his ceiling. Back at the farmhouse, his ceiling was absolutely littered with a multitude of glow-in-the-dark stickers. It had started out from when his Mama won him some stars at the arcade. He won planets the next time he went back. One day, in the heatwave, he came back to find questionable shaped blobs amongst the mess of stickers that was growing that Abby had apparently been awarded in school that day.
He groans, turning on his side to see the beanbag accompanied by a small mountain of stuffed animals the team were addicted to gifting him. He remembers Sam sitting him down, insistent to rank the animals in order and it turning into a whole affair as each Avenger took the rankings personally even though Harley had kept stating it was not a ranking of his favourite adult.
Harley squeezes his eyes shut, willing himself to fall asleep and ignore the nausea at the back of his head.
He makes it to Monday without a scratch until the final bell rings. Cindy looks at him for a second as they stretch at practice and immediately clocks him.
“What’s on with you? Holiday plans?”
“Going back to the good ol’ hometown.”
“Jeez, back to the Bible Belt?”
Harley almost falls over at that. Cindy gives him a knowing look. They drop the topic, spending their hour or two running through the choreography for the last time before the break and trapeze into the AcaDec classroom once they’re done.
Just to rub it into Flash’s face and to disrupt the flow of the team, they take turns to shout out answers until MJ glares at them. It makes Harley feel just a tad better.
When they finish, they bid their goodbyes and Harley tugs Peter out and into the car. Much to his chagrin, Peter spends the time reconfirming facts about the farmhouse and everyone back there, tossing questions every so often for Harley to answer. It’s not like that Harley hates Tennessee or the fact that Peter’s excited. He loves retelling the memories he holds dear, to brag about his Mama, Abby and Willow. But with the days closing in, the pit in his stomach is harder to ignore and his throat is beginning to feel clogged.
“God, they’re going to eat an out-of-towner like you right up,” Harley mutters as they walk out of the elevator and into the dining room. Peter frowns.
“They’ll leave me alone, I’m dating the boy too smart that they had to nerf by kicking him out of school after all.”
Harley jolts. From the corner of his vision, he sees Tony and Pepper freeze. He schools his expression back into a soft smile.
“Yeah,” Harley breathes out, leaving Peter standing with a peck on his lips and seats himself. “Wait ‘till they hear I’m dating Spider-Man.”
He barely remembers the meal, everything tasted bitter. The moment his hands began to shake once more, he shovelled the rest of his plate down and stuffed his hands in his pocket.
Peter finishes not long after. The adults wish them a good night, disappearing off to their offices. He appreciates them going out of the way to have family meals. Especially on days like this when Harley knows he’s going to end up in Tony’s lab sooner or later.
They walk to Peter’s room. He stops in the doorway. Peter turns.
“You know I love you right?”
Peter blinks in confusion, “Yeah?”
“If you’re okay with it, we’re going to have to hide this,” Harley gestures to the air between them, “when we’re over there.”
“Oh.” Peter thankfully doesn’t seem disappointed or angry. “Sure, it’ll be safer right?”
Harley nods.
“Harls? You’ll say something if you don’t want to go, right? You’ve been anxious since and um, you can talk to any of us about it. It’s only been a year.”
And that was the issue, wasn’t it? It’s only been a year. Harley nods again, swallows past the lump in his throat.
“I’m going to talk to Tony about it. Don’t wait up. Love you, darlin’.”
Peter offers back a small smile and his sentiments back.
Harley makes his way down to the lab, heart doing the samba while he’s at it.
“We’re moving my things aren’t we?”
“Afterwards, yeah. That’s the plan, wasn’t it?”
Harley stares at the back of Tony’s head, kicking his shoes off and bringing his knees up to his chest. He lets himself lean back onto the couch.
“Abby and Mama still live there.”
That makes Tony finally stop, setting the screwdriver down gently. Harley redirects his eyes to a spot on the floor, tightening into a ball.
“They do. You don’t.” Tony replies in a soft tone. He can hear the wheels of that darn chair, spinning as Tony pushes away from the desk to face him.
It’s the unfortunate truth. He’ll probably be going to MIT after graduating anyways. If not, it’ll still be closer to home than the farmhouse. He knew that when they had dinner with Abby and Mama two weeks out and finally agreed to stay at the tower meant he’d never be moving back. And here he was, a whole year later still reeling in that revelation except ten times harder.
“I think I’m split into two. Half of me is here. The other’s somewhere in my old bedroom. And that half wants to go home.”
Silence. His breath stutters. The couch dips beside him.
“Harls, passerotto, it’s alright that you feel like this is your home. It’s what Pep and I try to achieve with you two.”
“It’s only been a year, though,” Harley adds in a strained whisper.
“Come on,” he can hear the restraint in Tony’s voice stopping him from rolling his eyes. An arm wraps around his shoulder and awkwardly pulls him into his mentor's side.
“None of that, I don’t think any gay kid is exactly jumping for joy living out in the Bible Belt,” Tony notices Harley’s wince. “Sorry, not the best phrasing out there but you know it’s true. You’ve hated it there for years, kid. It took you less than a day here to ease in. This is home, piccolo. People don’t really decide where home is, it just happens. Your mom and sister know you love them. So does Willow, she’s probably going to tell you she’s happy you got out of there. We’re going out there to celebrate and bring the rest of you home safe and happy, yeah?”
“I think,” Harley blinks the tears out of his eyes. “if we do that- I won’t be able to go back.”
Sharp inhale. Tony begins to pry Harley out of his little ball, letting him press his face into his side.
Tony’s had first-hand experience with the grip Tennessee had on one Harley Keener. He knows that the only reason Harley got onto the plane for the first time was for Peter. He’s caught the distant yell of jabs when Harley used to call him if a group of kids were passing by but also the stories Harley recites to him with breathless laughter and a twinkle in his eye as he and Willow walk back home through the dark.
“Do you want to bring your things, then?” A nod. “Right, then we’ll say goodbye to Tennessee, too. You’ll show us your little loser places and after Christmas, ta-da! Harley stays right here, being corrupted into a city boy and we fly out the only good people from that hell of a town whenever celebrating is needed.”
“Don’t say that,” Harley groans, failing to hide his giggle, turning to look up at Tony.
“There’s mi patatino. Come on, up and to bed. That’s too many emotions for tonight, I’ll write you out of classes tomorrow so conk out for at least 12 hours.”
He lets Tony pull him to his feet and out of the lab. When the elevator door closes though-
“Did you just call me a potato?”
Tony responds with a shit-eating grin.
Harley does indeed ‘conk out’ as soon as his head hits the pillow.
Peter peers into his room the next morning, pulls the covers up from where they’ve fallen and slips back out. Tony’s nursing a cup of coffee by the counter, Pepper just having set Peter’s plate on the table.
“Harley alright?” It’s a stupid question, he cringes after asking it.
“He won’t be at school today. Come home early to pack for tomorrow, okay? We’re leaving as soon as my meeting ends and that is not enough time to rush your bags.” Pepper throws a glare at her husband, who raises his mug at her in salute.
It does not escape Peter’s notice that his question was not answered. Tony ruffles his hair when he picks his backpack up, telling Peter to give Harley a second to figure stuff out, leaving Peter more confused and worried.
Halfway through the day, his phone buzzes with a text from Harley. It eases his concern when he sees the selfie, if you could even call it that. It was a picture of Harley staring down a stuffed teddy bear wearing an MIT hoodie, identical to the one Harley currently was sporting minus the oil stains. Tony’s no doubt.
Harls!! : One of us has to change
Peter snorts. Guess Harley was doing last-minute gift shopping.
You: Dork.
Harls!!: I’m getting you coal for Christmas.
He can’t help but smile as he reads the text, slipping his phone back into his pocket and eating his lunch with more vigour, tuning back into Ned and MJ's conversation.
Harley was still out when Peter arrived back home so he decided to get started on packing and wrapping up his gifts. He ensures they’re split into two piles, the furthest away from him for the Avengers that Happy would help deliver and the closest were puzzle pieces he tried to fit in his second suitcase. It took a bit of manoeuvring but he finally gets the zip to close all the way around. Grinning, he heads into Harley’s room, knowing he had come home due to FRIDAY’s announcement.
His boyfriend’s laying starfish on his bed. He hums.
“Did you pack yet?”
Harley vaguely gestures at a backpack and a separate bag full of gifts. Peter’s confusion must have been made obvious from the silence that followed because Harley cracks an eye open with an amused smile.
“My things are still there, Pete.”
“Oh. Did you get me coal for Christmas?” He asks, climbing onto the bed to lie next to him. Harley hums thoughtfully, tilting his head back and his eyes falling shut once more.
“No,” he says decidedly. “Coal’s too good for you.”
Peter splutters, grabbing a pillow to hit his partner with. It seems that they had shared the same brain cell though as Harley sits up at the exact same time with his own weapon, both pillows clashing together in a loud whoomph.
It paints a smile on Harley’s face that doesn’t leave till after dinner. He sits, knees up to his chest and fiddling with one of Peter’s cubes as Peter rushes to finish his lab report.
“It’s gonna be a goodbye Tennessee celebration as well.”
Peter’s thanking Thor and the stars that he had just penned down the final full stop on his essay when Harley begins speaking. He turns around slowly.
“I’m not going to go back after. At all.”
“Okay. Are you bringing moving boxes?” Peter laughs when Harley’s eyes widen.
They both scramble for their phones to text Pepper.
Harley hopes everyone is squarely entertained. They’ve been driving past nothing but grass and trees for a good long while. He misses the plane and how that went off without a hitch. He tunes back in, catching Peter playing some weird karaoke tag with Pepper and Tony.
“Oh, holy mother Mary give me strength,” Harley mutters under his breath. Peter splutters on his next lyric upon hearing this ridiculous proclamation. He doesn’t get to question why though because at the next turn, they drive through the town gates.
Their farmhouse isn’t that far anymore, and Pepper quickly pulls in. Harley’s already unbuckled his seatbelt, flying out the door the moment the vehicle halts.
Peter watches as he scales the stairs, wrapping his arms around his mother. The three of them get out of the car, deciding it is creepy to watch this reunion from inside. Peter leaves a bag each for Pepper and Tony and lugs the rest up before anyone can protest.
“Nice to meet you again!” Peter calls out when he reaches the stairs. He also thanks Harley who holds the door open.
“Esther, lovely day we’re having.” Tony holds a hand out.
“None of that, get in. I’ve got dinner on, we’ll wait for the kids. Harley, you want to get outta here if you’re gonna catch your sister and Willow.”
Harley gives a two-fingered salute, literally vanishing as he presumably runs up to the school. Peter takes the time to, firstly, stumble up the stairs and leave the bags outside the doors of Harley’s bedroom and Pepper and Tony’s guest room, followed by him dumping his bags in the middle of his guest room.
Then he slides down on the bannister, getting yelled at by the adults for it. Peter manages to look around as they trade stories. It’s hard to believe Harley grew up in this place, everything was uncomfortably neat and grown-up. The only indication of children were the pictures of Harley and his sister on the shelves, showing the progression over time.
He's staring at the photo of Harley wearing a gap-toothed smile and cowboy had inches from tipping over and obscuring his vision when voices start approaching the house alongside the shuffling of dirt. Just in time then. Peter spares one more glance at the photo before swerving to the entryway, watching as Harley walks in, shoulder to shoulder with Willow and Abby next to them. They seat themselves, as though it was a thoroughly practised choreography, laughing before Harley nudges Willow, reaching over to lace his fingers with Peter under the table.
“Willow, my boyfriend- Peter if you’re suffering from memory loss, and Pepper. Oh, also the old man,” Harley introduces, nodding to each of them as he rattles their name off the tip of his tongue. His accent had gotten deeper, and there was something more rigid in his stance but it’s as close to the gap-toothed boy in the photo Peter knows they were going to get. The rest of them after it had Harley’s eyes clouded over, lips pressed together. It’s nothing like New York.
“Mind your tongue,” Esther Keener snaps, cuffing Harley on the back of his head as she rounds over to place the dish of casserole. Harley only smiles up at her, untangling his hand and serves himself. Peter tells them stories of the city, of their ridiculous adventures in Science classes in exchange for the girls to tag team him and try to slip misinformation about the town to him. Harley mostly stays out of it, watching everyone bustle about and fill the silence, only leaning over with gleaming eyes as he and Willow touch on dance and their competitions.
She invites them out to the club the next night, and Tony and Pepper reluctantly let them after Esther waves a hand around and shoos them out the door. Harley manages a wink at Peter before Willow drags him out with a laugh. Abby’s gagging in the background, her smile evidently betraying her true feelings as well as Esther’s amused smile, calling out a reminder to be back by supper.
They walk down the path together, shoulder’s knocking against each other as mud sloshes up and against his combat boots just like he never left a year ago. There’s a difference though if you look for it. The brightness in Harley’s eyes that he’s fighting so hard to contain, the careful steps and hands that have not stopped twitching minutely in tremors once they’d landed.
“Oi, Keener!” Someone yells from across the street, disrupting their conversation. They stop, and Harley watches as Noah jogs over. He holds back a groan. There had never been anything fond associated with Noah, and Willow’s narrowed eyes could tell you that from a mile away. Still, here Harley is regarded with neutrality. So, he jerks his head in acknowledgement. Noah grins.
“Heard you’re back, thought you’d up and left us for good. It’ll do good for her, slap some sense in, it’s no good for a pretty girl to be running her mouth claimin’ she ain’t like boys. Bet you run into a ton of those in the city, don’t ya?”
“You best watch yourself, Noah,” Harley growls, blocking Willow from his view. “I don’t take kindly to anyone mouthing off my family or my friend.”
Noah chuckles, stepping back with raised, splayed hands condescendingly. He runs off, not after wishing him well with a subtle jab underlying it. The rest of their walk is silent up until they stare up at Willow’s big old house.
There’s a pride flag on the front of it. Correction, there’s a torn-up pride flag barely hanging onto the flagpole flapping in the wind in front of her house. He stares. He whistles lowly.
“Looks badass, doesn’t it? Now that you’re gone, I’ve got to be the one keeping the town up.”
“Sure,” Harley chokes out, following her to the back stables. “But you’ve always been keeping the town up even back when I was showing them up in classes.”
Willow grins back, tossing him a saddle and they make their way to the horses. Gods, he’s missed horse riding. He curses the town for giving him the weirdest comforts and hobbies. He’s letting Charlotte, his pick for when they’d go riding, nuzzle into his hand when Willow calls out again, voice echoing through the wooden boards of the stable.
“I’m glad it was you that got out of here first. You’ve run your time dry here, it ain’t nothin’ but a wasteland for you. Better off in that big city running circles ‘round folks than sittin’ here.”
“Tony said you’d say that,” he huffs out, leading Charlotte out. “You could get out too, he’d help.”
“Nah,” she replies from beside him. Lord knows when she’d appeared, already mounted. He pulls himself up. “I’ve still got time, this is my home. Even if they’d rather run me into the ground.”
The weight of her words tug at his heart. His fingers twitch around the reigns.
“Reckon I’d put our town on the map?”
“Christ, put it on with a big red ‘Do Not Enter’ sign would, ya? ‘Nuff talk, let’s go!” And Willow’s racing off, leaving Harley to wetly laugh before adjusting his reigns and trailing after her.
He does make it back in time for supper, mud-caked boots that he hangs from his neck as he enters, windswept hair and a wicked smile. It grows when he finds Peter and Abby in the sitting room, sprawled across the floor with sketches around them, a whisper of conversation as their pencils dance across the page.
Peter looks up at him, a twinkle in his eye before he ducks back down. Harley turns away, dumping his boots into his bathroom and changing out of his airport clothes.
They decide to take Tony and Pepper with them. Well, Harley did anyways. He tugs them out of the house out to the diner, stealing greasy fries out of Tony’s basket. He manages to sneak them out into his old hiding spot, an abandoned mechanic shack hidden by a chain link fence that Pepper had hopped with grace.
It still had some blueprints and sketches hung up on the walls that he didn’t deem important along with a couple salvageable tools. He snatches them up and opens one of the boxes to dump in when they head back to the house. They head out to the club after, cowboy hat securely on Harley’s head.
Peter had already choked that morning when he came down with his boots, combats still dripping in water and drying out. Needless to say, his jaw dropped upon seeing the entire get up. He did attempt to snatch the hat up once they left the house but Harley catches his wrist.
“Wear the hat, ride the cowboy, Parker.”
Peter splutters and they have to stop because Tony’s laughing so hard he’s close to keeling over. Pepper and him share a look, sighing at their respective partners.
When they push into the bar, he’s hounded by folks. They’re entranced by Peter, who’s practically hanging off his arm in the most unsuspecting and socially acceptable way. They’re all sharks, toothy grins and sharper questions weaselling around for a crack in their masks to dig into. Screw Tony Stark and Pepper Potts literally watching and sipping drinks a couple feet away, right?
Harley doesn’t know if it’s luck or the opposite when the speakers crackle. Willow manages to find them at the same time, snatching Harley away to the people already lining up without apology.
Peter slinks to Tony and Pepper’s side as they watch people shuffle into place, music starting to stream out of the old speakers. Harley makes eye contact with his boyfriend before quickly looking away, cursing Willow and every higher being as Footloose blasts and he’s goddamn grapevining to the right as his parental-mentor figures watch alongside his boyfriend. He pulls his hat over his eyes.
“Didn’t know leaving the south would make you this tight,” Willow whispers. His gaze snaps to her, and she waggles her eyebrows. It catches him off guard, a laugh bubbling out of his lips, the string finally snapping as he turns in time with the others.
It’s almost as if the first piece of the puzzle clicks right then and there. Everything turns into a blur of colours and laughter, Footloose turns into Fake ID and Peter joins the fray somehow, stumbling on his feet more often than not, leaving Harley to grip his arm to right him back up.
He’s sure by the time he washes up to Pepper’s side, flushed and exhausted, Tony’s got a dozen new blackmail for back in New York but he can’t seem to care as he looks over at Peter spinning Willow around.
When Rhodey arrives, they finally wrestle the tree out and set it up like the proper family they are. It’s fairly late but it’s an experience all the same. Tony’s offering advice that leaves him getting pelted by pillows from his seat on the couch as Harley and Abby pick out ornaments for Peter and Rhodey to place on the tree. Pepper and Esther watch with small smiles as the tree gets drowned as time goes on.
There’s a slight scuffle when it came to the star. Neither of the kids felt as though they should be the ones to put it up, insisting on each other. Tony did rise to his feet, already eyeing the star, but Rhodey yanks him back down. In the end, Harley places the star. He hasn’t done it since Abby turned 4 and he keeps his mouth shut about it.
He feels another piece fall into place.
Willow comes around a lot, a knowing look in her eyes. She teaches Peter to ride but to Harley’s amusement, the boy would rather let the beast knock him over when his feet are planted on the ground.
Abby drags them all out for noodling, laughing her head off as fish after fish escapes Peter’s grasp. It’s not as entertaining as Tony’s slacks having rolled down and drenched in the rush of the river, water seeping higher and higher as he struggles with his grip. Pepper’s surprisingly good at it, much to Tony’s dismay. It didn’t help that Rhodey was calling out points for every successful catch and he and Peter were tied in last.
On Christmas Eve, Harley and Tony set out to the store. Only, on the way back with a bag of last-minute essential groceries and snacks, Harley failed to notice he’d led them down the wrong path. Sure, it still led home but when he sees the swings in the corner of his eye his mouth runs dry and he stops, effectively pausing the conversation with Tony.
He wonders if his initials are still carved on the side of the slide. He looks back at Tony then back, taking a step forward. They’re still there, isolated as ever from the other initials almost overlapping each other in the other corner.
He sits on one of the swings, kicking off slightly and almost laughs when Tony sits on the other, bag resting on his lap. They’re silent, Harley letting his swing lose momentum and skidding it to a stop. He stares into the distance.
“My dad left me here,” he manages to say, and he swears he can almost see the ghost of that little Harley that waved goodbye and stumbled onto the swing set and let the air rush past him until the sky turned orange as it did now.
“Said he was gonna get tickets, so he left me here. I waited, kept swinging and swinging until it turned dark and I knew Mama would be worried. Walked straight home without a coat, knew she was going to yell when she opened the door. ‘Till she saw it was just me and she already knew.”
He turns to Tony.
“Funny thing is, he did it on Christmas Eve, too.”
He gets to his feet, already set on walking away but Tony doesn’t let him.
“I’m not going to leave you, Harley.”
If he’d said that a couple weeks ago, Harley wouldn’t have believed him. The past year living with Tony Stark, he’d been preparing for that other shoe to finally drop. Sure, being in his life was one thing but living with the man and everyone else, slotting into their happy little family up in the sky seemed like a life that Harley could only dream of. A mere tease.
“’ Course not,” he says instead, head turning back and smirking, eyes drifting down to the bag. “You’re bringing back a whole jug of milk.”
They leave a plate of cookies and a cup of milk on the counter that night, each one shockingly decorated with immense detail thanks to Abby and Peter. He envies whoever gets to take a bite later when he has to wait for the next day. Peter yells something about reindeer and carrots so there’s also a bunch of them sitting out when Harley’s wide awake staring at luminescent stars and other bits and bobs glowing from his ceiling, Peter curled up into his side under the covers.
When he wakes to Peter poking his cheek with doe eyes only a couple inches away, he almost forgets himself. It takes him longer than usual to blink himself fully awake, all the while Peter’s still poking away with no mercy.
When the room gets significantly less blurry and spinny he hooks his arms under Peter’s flipping him over. The breath escapes the brunet in a surprise woosh but he’s still wearing that stupid smile.
“I’m eating all the cookies,” he declares, pushing himself up and scrambling out the door, Peter spluttering and following behind, their boisterous laughter echoing through the farmhouse.
Only, when he reaches the kitchen, Rhodey’s munching on the cookies with a steaming cup of coffee. He lets himself fall into Peter’s arms, clutching his chest in betrayal.
The rest of the adults step over their pile, shaking their heads in fond amusement. The moment Abby stomps down, however, Harley springs up and makes a mad dash to the rest of the cookies, determined to have at least one.
The gifts portion of the day had Harley feeling like he was watching from the wrong end of the aquarium, breath lodged in his throat with the scene warped around him as currents pushed him about. It’s unfair, he thinks as he’s tapping away at his thigh, to feel as he is when there’s the most joy in the Keener household since his birth.
He looks at the pile of gifts in front of him. It’s decently big and he knows there’s more waiting back at the apartment courtesy of the Avengers. It’s weird to think this is where it’s all led to.
Peter nudges him. He’s already opened a couple, currently holding a stuffed octopus Abby got for him from who knows where. He tries for a smile, peeling the paper off on the closest box. It’s Pepper’s, and it’s surprisingly small. When he cracks open the plain cardboard box beneath it, he chokes.
“You got him a bike?” Abby yells, having thrown herself at him. Everyone stares at Pepper, who merely shrugs. He’s going to kill her.
The rest of the gifts aren’t as shocking; a new drawing pad from Rhodey, cufflinks from Tony that are secretly teched out and probably not his only gifts, a knitted vest from Mama and matching necklaces from Peter.
Abby slides the last box to him. Scrawled on the neon pink wrapping paper are the words From Willow n Abby so he takes great care in peeling it off and folding it for keepsakes. And to also draw the suspense as Abby watches in rapt attention.
He ends up blinking blankly at the little folder in his lap it reveals. The water’s been sucked out of a vortex, leaving him frozen in its wake.
“For that fancy new room of yours,” she whispers. It doesn’t matter, he knows Peter’s listening because he can feel the tremble in his fingers that makes his boyfriend ever so concerned. He knows Tony’s watching though trying not to give it away as he laughs with the rest of them, setting up a casual conversation to blanket their moment.
He manages a breath, thumbing the folder to see all the little stickers he knows will glow the moment darkness engulfs the room. Some are from the dingy arcade, the prizes never changing. He’s assuming some are from school, given the good jobs and encouragement phrases on the bottom. What gets him are the hand-drawn stickers, ranging from inside jokes and spiky animals to wrenches and engines and chemical structures.
He definitely doesn’t want to find out how they managed it. He pulls her into a hug, chucks his gift into her arms and laughs as she pulls a face at the gag gift of a mug with his face on it. His cheeks hurt when she runs to change into the overalls he’d embroidered for months.
He does not cry.
He does sit in his room, cross-legged on the floor later that night, however, staring at the majority of empty moving boxes. Peter’s downstairs, having a go at Christmas karaoke and making Rhodey regret he’s stuck in the middle of nowhere with them all.
He listens to their muffled singing and gets to packing.
Something crackles outside when he closes one of the last boxes. He peeks out the window, watching green explode and lighting up the town. He finds the others watching from the porch, as more got shot up higher and brighter. He slips Peter’s hearing aids into his palms when he settles next to him. They stay until the air smells strongly of gunpowder and Peter’s close to nodding off.
Harley looks at the stars on his ceiling, recalls the flashes of colours of the fireworks and turns onto his side, falling asleep lips slightly quirked up.
The day he’s about to leave, boxes packed up and ready, he wakes up to hollering in the street. He nearly bowls Peter over as he rushes out, staring at Noah and his crew hooting and hollering holding a torn-up pride flag, tossing it around and stomping on it like nobody’s business as others cheer.
Willow’s out there in the crowd, weaving through like a woman on a mission and- oh. Her lips meet with Noah’s sister.
“This is one weird pride parade,” Peter mutters from next to him. Harley stares, as Noah angrily shoves his sister and Willow apart, both sporting contagious smiles and one of his friends was still waving that flag around with as much anger as he could muster.
He can’t help it. Harley laughs, eyes crinkling up and falling into Peter’s side.
“Don’t you come back for anything,” Willow makes him promise as they pull apart. The rental was already stuffed with his boxes and luggage, the private jet a ways away with Happy at the wheel waiting for them. He hugs his sister and mother goodbye, hops into the car and watches as his hometown becomes nothing but a pinprick in the distance.
They load the plane, Rhodey driving off to the airport to return the car and to fly off back to his sisters for New Year's. His hands have stopped shaking, laced with Peter’s as they try to beat Tony at Uno.
They all lose to Pepper.
Being home after Christmas held more chaos than when he was not. He’s out at the studio with Cindy, twisting and turning in practice for the New Year’s performance most days, coming home to collapse on the couch waiting for Peter to get home from patrols.
He stares up at his glowing ceiling night after night, relishing in the fact Clint had called it radioactive when he’d stumbled in once.
There are cameras at the party, which should be unsurprising since it’s a Stark Industry sponsored event. He’s changed out into a suit that compliments Peter’s after the performance and greatly hopes he’s managed to wash out most of the gel off his hair in that short amount of time. Cindy looks great though, they both smile up the camera as they’re interviewed, splitting away as soon as it stops rolling on them.
It's buzzing in the back of his mind that it’s being broadcasted everywhere, that the chances of someone back in Rose Hill watching was high. He can’t bring himself to put on that act any longer though, the epitome of ease as he finds his family oddly hiding in the corner.
When the sky explodes as midnight hits, Peter’s hand in his hidden from how tightly they’re pressed beside each other, Harley’s aware of the camera focusing in on them. His heart’s hammering, a million thoughts racing in his mind. He feels Peter loosen his grip, the opposite of what he wants.
He turns. He kisses him, right there in front of the camera as the sky is exploding around them and it does not smell as strongly of gunpowder back in Tennessee and he’s with his boyfriend and family scarily aware and uncaring of whoever else is watching through that camera.
He comes home, giddy from adrenaline paired with the brightest smile. Pepper kisses their cheeks goodnight, and Tony ruffles their hair. He stumbles into his room, pulls on his sweats and an old T-shirt and looks around for what seems like the first time.
The walls are now decorated with old blueprints of potato guns and posters and pictures. The ceiling is plastered with glowy stickers, and the shelves are lined with trophies and medals and certifications alongside books and theses’ ranging in topics. His hat hangs from the back of his door, boots somewhere in the closet. Rusty, old tools peek out from beneath his bed, a Lego tree sits by his windowsill and a half-completed Star Trek set sits on his desk.
He stares at the empty wall of it though, taking a breath and pulling the flag from under his bed. He tacks it up on the wall, looking back in pride. Peter doesn’t say anything when he sneaks into sleep, humming tiredly and shutting his eyes, arm wrapped around Harley.
It’s pretty telling what he thinks though when he straightens up with glee the moment Harley swings into the room the next week, sandwiches from Delmar and extra cupcakes from the celebration party he had at practice with a shout of, “Honey, I’m home!”
When Peter wraps himself around him trying to grab the food Harley’s twisting to get out of the way of his hands, Tony laughing and Pepper watching with chin in palm, he’s so sure.
For what is home if not the first thought fleeting your mind at its mention?