A/N: Am I posting a new story? Yes. Yes, I am. Have I promised to keep myself focused on my four current WIPs and diligently work on those and those alone? Yes. Yes, I have. Am I keeping that promise? Obviously not.
You've got Tumblr to blame for this. I was working quietly and diligently on rewriting OSAH and writing WTWHG (ignore the random capitals if you're not following my other stories; they won't mean much) and minding my own business, having entirely forgotten the existence of Harley for YEARS. And then I decided to make a Tumblr and went down the IronDad and Harley Keener rabbit hole. Yep. Topped with my revamped hyperfixation with the MCU in general, I didn't stand a chance.
I'm only posting the first chapter because I only wrote the first chapter. I might be entirely incapable of resisting the shiny plot bunny eyes, but I still made sure to pour most of my hours into my main WIPs and indulge myself in Harley and Peter shenanigans for a short two hours :)
Knowing me, more to come soon!
-Marion
Story notes:
- Takes place in the OSAH universe (but you don't need to have read OSAH to follow the story).
- According to the Avengers wiki Harley was born in 2002 and Peter was born in 2001. Which would make them one year apart, with Peter being one year older.
- This story plays out when Peter is 17 and Harley 16.
- Not blip compliant. Like I said it's on OSAH universe. I'm ignoring infinity war and endgame. Why you ask? Because I can. And because I can't go through that heart wrenching pain twice.
Dive in, already!
"Shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! Fuck! Shit! Fuck! Shit! Fuck! Shit!"
"Did you get that out of your system?" Peter asked drily, eyeing the blond menace next to him with exasperation.
"How can you be so calm right now?" Harley asked, glaring at Pete accusingly.
"What do you expect me to do? We're in handcuffs! We're arrested. We can do nothing but wait!" Peter countered, gesturing with his head to his handcuffed hands.
"Dude! You're freaking Spi…"
"Shut up! Are you that unhinged?" Peter cut him off with a hiss. "Nobody knows that, little idiot! And I plan to keep it that way, so shut up!"
"But you could…"
"No! No, I couldn't! Because even if it wasn't a secret, I wouldn't freaking pull a prison break and become a delinquent to save your ass from Tony," Peter countered, curtly.
"Ok, first, you are already a delinquent! You're in fucking handcuffs, and second… Your ass is on the line too just as much as mine," Harley countered bitingly.
"Stop talking, Harley! We wouldn't be in this damn situation if you listened to me," Peter snapped again, his eyes glancing around at the mostly vacant Queens NYPD department.
"Yeah, well, we wouldn't have driven that beauty in a street race if I had listened to you," Harley retorted. "Which, by the way, I don't have to do! Like ever! I don't listen to you! I answer to no one!"
"Yeah, that's why you're scared shitless of Tony finding out," Peter snorted.
"Oh, fuck off! No matter how hard you try to play the good obedient son, you know just as well as I do that you freaking loved the ride," Harley said with a roll of his eye. "You wouldn't even know how good you were in this, hadn't I made you try. Who would've thought! Peter Parker, an illegal street racer. We might have to shave your head to give you some Dom Toretto vibes."
Peter huffed annoyed, looking everywhere but Harley. Still, he didn't try to rebuke the asshole's words. He had freaking loved the ride. And he was freaking good at it. Probably thanks to his enhanced reflexes. And now his gorgeous car, his sweet sixteen gift from Tony and Pepper, the one he and the man and even Harley last summer, had spent hours working on and improving, was confiscated. That, and his life was over. Or would be over soon. Because Tony would kill them.
The stocky cop they'd been trying to reason with for the last half an hour approached them once again. "For the last time, who is your legal guardian or parent?"
Peter banged his head lightly on the wall behind him, letting out a whimper of sheer frustration.
"Officer, this would go so much faster if you just called my stepfather, who, as I've told you a bunch of times already, is Tony Stark," Peter's tone was a mixture of resignation, exhaustion, and anger that this intolerable cop wouldn't do what he was supposed to. "I mean, it can't be that hard… Look in your goddamn databases! We already told you. Mr. Stark is my step father and it's one of this little idiot's guardians. Lord has mercy and he's from Tennessee, only rarely visiting New York. But… Like, seriously! Call Tony Stark."
"You expect me to believe that? Huh? Don't you think this has happened before? Little piece of shits like you coming in here, giving me names to look up and then call and then snickering while whoever I bothered calling curses the everloving shit out of me?" The cop asked through narrowed eyes.
"Everloving shit! That was a good one. I'm gonna be using that, Mr. Badge," Harley quipped, not particularly bothered by this unexpected life extension brought by the kind sponsorship of Mr. badge's disbelief.
"Harley, shut up," Peter groaned. Feeling the last ounces of his patience dissipating, he turned to the cop. "We get a phone call, don't we? Let us call Tony ourselves. Harley here has something to tell him," Peter said, sending a death glare to the younger teenager.
"Oh, hell no! I'm not talking to Tony about this! No way in hell! Not even if you beat the everloving shit out of me," here Harley paused and glanced at the cop with a pleased smile for being able to use his new favorite curse word so fast.
"Harley… I'm unbelievably close to beating the everloving shit out of you as it is," Peter replied, trying hard to keep his temper in check. "So, you'll shut up and we'll follow the kind officer, and we'll call Tony. And you'll speak to him and tell him where we are and why and that he needs to come get us."
Knowing this little idiot he'd happily strangle right now too well, Peter added before Harley could interrupt him, "And even if you don't and decide to start stalling until the kind officer loses his shit and terminates the call, then I'll use my phone call. And I'll let Tony know exactly what happened. There's no way out of this!"
"Sure there is," Harley shrugged, leaning back comfortably in his chair. "You're just not creative enough! That's the problem with you science guys, you're not creative enough. Me and Tony, we're mechanics. We can come up with a million different ways out of any given situation," the blond teen continued confidently.
"And like you said… Since you'll end up telling him yourself using your phone call, after I waste mine, why not make the call in the first place and save us all some frustration? How about not being a selfish asshole for once, Peter? For the everloving God?" A smirk forming at how he managed to throw yet another everloving in there, he whispered, "Damn, I'm on fire tonight!"
"Harley, I'll ask permission from the kind officer to start smacking the shit out of you…
"Everloving shit," Harley corrected with a raise of his eyebrow.
Peter, losing it, kicked the other boy on the shin. He, of course, ensured he didn't kick too hard. He didn't want to break the kid's leg. It still was hard enough to cause Harley to yell out in pain. "I'm done talking, and I'm starting kicking. You're calling Tony, or I'm kicking your everloving ass to everloving Sunday. Literally," Peter growled, now entirely pissed and tired. Turning to the cop, he said through clenched teeth, "Take us to make the damn phone!"
The officer glared at them and briefly considered saying no and leaving them stew. But being already tired by their relentless yapping and arguing and taunting of his swear words, he let out something between a growl and a sigh before grabbing them both by the scuffs of their shirts and leading them to the closest cubicle to make the damn phone call.
Pushing each of them on a chair in front of the small desk, the cop then slammed the telephone between them. He remained looming over them, arms crossed in front of his chest and on top of his impressive stomach.
Peter glared at Harley.
"I don't know his number," Harley said in an angelic tone.
"No problem," Peter snapped. Grabbing the phone's mouthpiece and setting it down loudly on the desk in front of Harley, he then pushed the buttons forming Tony's phone number. Harley watched with a mixture of annoyance, refusal, and dread.
"Who the everloving fuck knows their dad's phone number by heart?" Harley asked tauntingly.
"The guy that will sit here and watch you explaining this shit to Tony," Peter answered with a satisfied smirk.
Tony's voice was heard from the mouthpiece next.
"Hello? Hello?"
Eyes narrowing at Harley's pursed lips and challenging eyes, Peter landed another kick at his shin. Harley yelled out in pain before kicking Peter right back despite knowing the super-powered teen wouldn't feel a thing.
"Harley?" Tony's alarmed tone echoed louder, listening to the kid's pained yell.
"Yeah, it's Harley, Tony! He needs to tell you something," Peter said loudly.
"Peter? Seriously, where the hell are you? Do you even have a clue what time it is? I specifically said you two could take a quick spin around town and be a little late. Key words: quick & little!"
"Yeah, Harley, tell him! Grab the damn phone and tell him exactly why we're late," Peter challenged. "I swear, pick up the phone or I'll kick you again!"
"Fuck!" Harley yelled before grabbing the phone and reluctantly bringing it to his ear.
"Hey, Mech…"
…
"Yeah, yeah, it's a bit late, you're right. Listen, though… Uh, so we're in a situation over here…
…
"No, we're safe and intact. All limbs accounted for."
….
"Nope. Both sober as judges. Give us some credit will you?"
"Wrap it up princess," the cop barked.
...
"That? That was Mr. Badge…"
…
"Nah, you don't know him. Yeah, cool guy. Taught me a new swear word."
….
"So he's a bit tired of having us. You know me and your son. We can get a bit too much after a while for most sane people. So, could you come get us?"
….
"No, can't use Petey's car"
…
"No, it's just that Mr. Badge's friends took it away for a while."
…
"Yeah, let's just say Peter will get his driving privileges back when he's ready to drive more responsibly."
"Harley, you little shit…" Peter hissed.
"Two people yelling at me at the same time doesn't help me think or talk," Harley said loudly.
….
"The address? Uh, sure… Mr. Badge? What's the address of your lovely venue?" Harley asked, looking up at the cop.
"NYPD 123 Liberty Avenue Queens," the cop barked.
"Got some pen and paper? Oh, you'll remember, right. Like Peter remembers your number by heart. How everloving cute is that, by the way?"
…
"Fine, fine… It's NYPD 123 Liberty Avenue Queens, basement floor, you'll find it super easy."
Tony's next words blared through the piece, making Harley wince and pull his ear away from the mouthpiece.
"YOU'RE ARRESTED? DAMN IT, HARLEY! YOU HAVE ME ON THE PHONE FOR OVER A MINUTE RAMBLING AND… BE THERE IN FIVE!"
"No! Not five! We don't have a car! Be a normal person and don't barge in here all Ironman and shit! For fuck's sake! We need you to drive us back home…"
Abruptly stopping talking, Harley set the mouthpiece back over the old-school phone and turned to glance from Peter to the cop. "He'll be here in thirty," he informed them conversationally.
The cop grumbled something incomprehensive, still refusing to believe the man on the phone was Tony Stark, but glad the damn kids would be out of his hands soon. Going to prepare the paperwork and finally check the database to find out the real name of the little shits' parents, he sent them one last warning glare.
Peter let out a fatigued breath, relief and nervousness causing his stomach to do somersaults. At least they wouldn't have to remain in that damn place for much longer. His eyes drifted to Harley, feeling for the kid. Now that everything was said and done, Harley looked like a condemned man. Feeling his anger and annoyance slowly dissipating, and gradually but surely replaced by the familiar sense of protectiveness the little idiot brought out in him, Peter nudged him with his foot.
"You good?" Peter asked.
Harley looked up at Peter, trying -and failing- to appear unfazed and play it cool. "Everloving peachy. Happy now, craphead?"
"Overjoyed, terror."
The two of them fell into a companionable silence, cuffed hands resting on their laps. Peter cracked his fingers, and Harley tapped both his feet nervously on the tiled floor, filling the room around them.
A/N: You liked? Leave a review! You didn't like? Still leave a review and tell me why. You liked some parts and hated others? You guessed it! Leave a review and share your thoughts. Help me become a better writer, make my day, yada yada.
For everloving god, leave a review. Keeps us fanfic writers going.