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Ever since Peter had laid eyes on Harley Keener, he had been a complete goner. Like, write his last name as yours in your diary with pink hearts next to it, kind of gone. He was tall, and gorgeous, and smelled so good it made his toes nearly curl with want. He had a disarming grin, mischievous eyes, and blonde hair that flopped in his face until his hands shoved it back, leaving it to be a messy tangle. He was everything Peter dreamed of.

Harley was an Alpha, too. His scent was smokey, like a campfire out in the woods, with the underlying freshness of clean sheets, and a tiny bit of apples. He smelled like home. The first time he smelled him, Peter had to leave immediately, and swung himself home in his street clothes out of desperation. He flew through the window of his bedroom and landed on the floor. He was shaking, and his brain flooded with chemicals, chemicals that he didn’t want. He shoved his face into a dirty shirt on the floor and took as many deep breaths as he could until he couldn’t smell him anymore.

Peter was so, so fucked.

The thing was, well, the big secret, actually, was that Peter was an Omega. Everyone presented between the ages of 13-16, and it was rare to present after 16, but not completely unheard of. Peter had assumed he was a Beta after 16 came and went without any presentation. He should have known that the spider bite would have fucked up his biology, since it seemed to fuck up everything else.

He was 17, almost 18, when he woke up one morning flushed, with the sheets beneath him soaked. Most of the sheets were drenched in his sweat, and he was worried at first that he had wet the bed like a little kid when he realized he was wet in between his legs. When he brought a hand down to feel what it was he jerked back in horror as he registered what exactly the fluid was. It was slick. He was leaking slick. But he wasn’t- this couldn’t be-

“May!” He had screeched at the top of his lungs as fear grappled in his chest. He couldn’t be an Omega, he just couldn’t. He was Spider-Man for fuck’s sake, he didn’t bow down or submit to anyone. If he was an Omega, that meant everything he had said was- Peter cut that line of thinking off quickly, for his own sanity. Now wasn’t the time to remember all the words that had haunted him in his sleep since he was 14.

May came rushing into the room, and paused as she took in Peter’s sickly state. “Peter, honey, are you sick?” She asked as she came closer to the bed. She brushed a cool hand over Peter’s sweaty forehead and Peter had to fight a flinch at the contact. “You’re burning up.”

“May, I think-” Peter said weakly, already wanting to crawl into a hole and die. It was so embarrassing. He was leaking slick in front of his Aunt, but he couldn’t help it. He literally couldn’t control it. He gestured demurely to his lower half, and hoped she would catch on once she processed the wet stain. “I think I’m presenting late.” He finished, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh sweetie,” May cooed. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll get you through this, alright?”

At her words the gravity of the situation sunk in for Peter and he couldn’t help the little sobs that escaped him as he started crying. “I don’t wanna,” he hiccuped, “I don’t wanna be an O-omega.” His own words came out stilted and Peter felt like the world was caving in. This was his life now. He was an Omega. He was going to have to worry about heats, and suppressants, and oh God - birth control. If he was an Omega that meant that he could get pregnant. His head started spinning and it felt like the whole planet was lurching as his stomach heaved. He was going to throw up.

Peter had just enough time to fly up from where he had been lying down in bed and throw himself down on his knees in front of the bathroom toilet, before he was retching violently. His puking was paired with an onslaught of lower stomach cramps that had him shuddering, and moaning in pain. After he stopped vomiting and had a moment to breathe, he felt May’s hands rub his hair soothingly, and one rested on his shoulder.

“It’s gonna be okay,” She had told him. “The first one is the worst. We’ll get you checked out when this is all over, and everything will be fine.”

“Don’t wanna be an Omega,” Peter growled, his face still down in the toilet. He felt disgusting, like the lowest of the low.

“I know, baby. But being an Omega isn’t all bad. I promise, honey.”

Easy for her to say, Peter thought to himself, she was a Beta.

Eventually Peter stopped puking once his body had nothing left to get rid of. May had changed the sheets sometime while he had been in the bathroom. She had tucked him into bed with a fan on in the corner of the room, and gave him a pad to wear in his underwear to catch all of his leaking slick. It was one of the most mortifying moments in Peter’s short life, which with his Parker luck, was definitely a feat. She dutifully fed Peter some heated up chicken broth - it was the only thing he could stomach - as he cried about his new status. All in all, it was a traumatizing experience for everyone involved.

Peter’s next heat was a little better. After he had presented, May made him see one of the doctors they had on staff at the Tower who worked with Supers and was well-aware of their various different body horrors. The doctor had given him a wry look when Peter had described his status as a ‘horror’ but didn’t argue, thankfully. It was Peter’s body, he was allowed to be as pissed about its betrayal as he wanted.

May now had his heats tracked in the Calendar that hung on the wall of their apartment, and Peter had them programmed in an app on his phone, one that he glared at whenever he had the chance. The doctor from the Tower even had a shot that Peter could take once a month for birth control that was more effective than the pill, especially with his metabolism, a hormone shot was more reliable and less likely to be flushed out by his system.

Peter’s second heat he hadn’t thrown up, but the cramps had been there, and just as bad. He leaked slick all over his sheets, and was barely coherent enough to feed himself or drink water the three days that it lasted. He spent most of the three days in a haze. He had to hold back sobs as his body clenched around nothing. He was so empty, and he had never felt more alone. It was like his body was crying out for something, or someone, that wasn’t there. He had thought that when Uncle Ben had died it was the loneliest, lowest he would ever feel, but this was worse. So much worse.

When his heat finally ended he locked himself in his bathroom and settled into the bathtub. He didn’t turn the water on. Instead, he curled up, knees to his chest, and cried. He cried until the fabric of his sweatpants that gathered at his knees was wet from his tears. He would have to go through this every month. He would feel so lonely that he wanted to die, and would have to deal with the crazy highs, and lows, and crashes of all of his Omega hormones. It was exhausting, and Peter hated it. He hated being an Omega.

The worst part? The worst part was that he knew his body was craving an Alpha. He could feel it like a tangible pull, sometimes when he wasn’t paying attention, but most of all it was when he was in heat. His heats would be better if he got an Alpha to knot him, but he didn’t want to. One, he couldn’t think of a single Alpha that he trusted enough for that, or was even sexually attracted to in that way who wasn’t taken. Two, he didn’t want to forfeit himself over like that. He was Spider-Man. He was strong. He was brave. He didn’t need an Alpha to come in and save him. The very notion made him want to growl with displeasure. He did the saving, not the other way around.

(Peter lied. The worst part was telling Tony. He had cried when he told Tony he presented late, and asked if there was any way he could put scent blockers on his suit so that he would still smell like a Beta. Tony, the champ, hadn’t even hesitated, and immediately got to work on improving the suit. He had it up and running within a few days, and Peter was grateful. Peter would never forget crying on his expensive couch as Tony had awkwardly comforted him and told him there was no shame in being an Omega. Peter loved how everyone kept saying that, even though there most definitely was. It felt like it, anyway.)

And okay, look. Peter didn’t hate Omegas. He never had. Even when he thought he was just a Beta, he never had a problem with them. If anything, he always felt more comfortable around Omegas (which huh, wasn’t that kind of telling?). They just were less aggressive and assuming than the Alphas had always been, and they normally smelled soft, and sweet. Peter didn’t know what his scent had changed to, but sometimes he wondered if he smelled sweet now too. Peter just...never saw himself as an Omega. As soon as he presented, all of his Omega traits that he did have seemed to be attached with giant red signs that he couldn’t ignore. He wondered if they had always been there and he had just never paid attention to them, or if they were just coming about because of his presentation. He didn’t know what answer he would rather have.

Then Peter met Harley.

Surprisingly, the world hadn’t stopped. Time kept passing, and he was sure the planets kept orbiting, but to Peter it didn’t feel like it.

Peter was 19, and just starting his second semester at ESU. Tony had mentioned casually during one of their lab sessions that he had another protege of sorts that was going to be moving to New York. He had been going to MIT, but had decided to transfer to Columbia due to a grant on one of his projections. Peter tried his best not to be a little jealous. He hadn’t even been aware that Tony had had another protege, and now he was supposed to share him with this other kid? Well, ‘kid’ was a bit of a stretch since the other guy was the same age as him. Peter wasn’t sure what to expect.

It was a cool day in the beginning of October when Tony invited Peter to the lab to meet his other ‘pet project’ as he kept referring to the kid. Peter was excited to meet him, and prayed that he would be cool so that they could be friends at the very least. It would suck if he would have to share his lab space with someone that he didn’t get along with. He was supposed to have met the kid sooner, but they had both been busy with the start of their classes and Peter hadn’t even been in the lab in a few weeks.

He took the elevator up as his stomach swooped in anticipation. He ran through all the information he had on the other protege in his head. He knew that his name was “Harley”. He also knew that the kid was just as smart, if not smarter than him, which hurt his ego a little bit. He liked being Tony’s favorite resident kid genius, thank you very much. (Although he would gladly forfeit the title over to Shuri for the small price of just one of her cutthroat memes.) He also knew that Harley was originally from a small town in Tennessee, had gone straight to MIT (apparently hated it there), and was now going to Columbia. It wasn’t a lot of information to make a picture in Peter’s head, but he rolled with it anyway.

When he got to the lab he saw Tony in the corner laughing with another guy. Peter’s heart freezed in his chest as the boy turned around. He was in a leather jacket, jeans hung low on his hips, showing a swatch of skin on his lower stomach and prominent hip bones. He had on combat boots, and a t-shirt under the leather jacket that had bleach stains across the front. A silver cross necklace on a chain also adorned his neck, and swung down to rest in the middle of his chest. Peter’s mouth watered.

He was gorgeous, and Peter didn’t know what to do with himself.

Peter stepped forward into the lab, getting closer to the two men like he was possessed, and not in control of his own limbs. His sneakers squeaked against the tile and that caught Tony’s attention. He glanced up, and his smile brightened. “Hey, Peter, we were just talking about you.”

Peter opened his mouth to reply, but the words died in his throat as he was busy looking at the boy. The boy smiled at him, and waved his hand. “Hey man, I’m Harley, it’s nice to meet you.”

Peter found his tongue as he attempted to get himself under control. Jesus, Parker, he scolded himself. It’s like you’ve never seen a cute boy before. Peter shook away the fog that had clouded his brain and stepped so he was only a few feet away from both of them. “It’s nice to meet you, Harley.”

“Aw, look at my boys.” Tony teased, but Peter could tell he was secretly pleased. “Being all polite.”

Peter wrinkled his nose at the same time that Harley shot him a glare. “I’m still armed, if you’re gonna keep making bad jokes, old man.”

Peter’s eyes widened in alarm. “Armed?”

Harley realized his mistake. “Oh I’m not actually- it’s a, it’s an inside joke.”

“Oh,” Peter relaxed, even though he felt like a fool. He had his webshooters strapped to his wrist for Christ’s sake, it’s not like it would have mattered if he had been armed. Peter couldn’t figure out why he was so on edge.

“So, Mr Stark says you’re going to Columbia, that’s pretty cool.”

Mr Stark.” Harley echoed, and looked at Peter like he was one of those little My Little Petshop keychains, that were so adorable you could just die. “Jesus, Tony, how’d you whip this kid into calling you Mr Stark.”

Tony held up his hands. “To be fair, I’ve told him to stop.”

Peter blushed, feeling ganged up on. “It’s polite.” He insisted, though his face flamed even more as Harley only smirked at him.

“Well, I don’t want to get in the way of Peter being a good boy here, now do I?” Harley grinned, and Peter’s heart skipped a beat as he tried to process if there was supposed to be an innuendo in there, or if he was imagining it.

“I don’t think you’ll be able to corrupt Parker,” Tony rolled his eyes. “He’s got the same shit as Cap running in those veins. He’s do-gooder, morally upright and all that. Maybe you should spend some time together, would do you right.”

Harley laughed, clearly in on some inside joke that Peter wasn’t aware of - again. “Listen, you have one lab fire at MIT and suddenly you’re a bad apple.”

“Three.” Tony corrected. “You had three lab fires. If you weren’t so brilliant you’d be expelled by now. You’re lucky Columbia has harsher lab regulations.”

Peter watched their banter with wide eyes, and a little bit of mirth. When they finally finished he said, “So uh, is anybody going to tell me how you guys met?”

“You didn’t tell him?!” Harley exclaimed, but also looked delighted. “It’s one of my favorite stories!”

Tony scoffed. “Of course, for you. It’s not exactly my finest moment.”

Harley turned so he was looking back at Peter. “Tony was in trouble so I saved him with my fire powers. I can shoot flames from my hands.”

Peter’s eyes got impossibly wider as he stared at Harley in wonder. “Woah, for real?”

Harley started laughing as Tony sighed. “No. Not for real. The kid doesn’t have any powers, and don’t let him convince you otherwise.”

Peter deflated. For a minute he had actually gotten kind of excited. It would have been cool to bond with someone his own age over having powers, and the responsibility that came with them. Peter felt a little duped. As usual, Tony caught on to the souring of his mood and shot Peter an apologetic look. “Harley’s a bit of an asshole, but some say it grows on them.”

Harley glanced back and forth between the two and frowned. “Didn’t realize power jokes were off limits. You don’t even have powers, dude,” he pointed at Tony. “You’re like a downgraded Batman.”

Downgraded!?” Tony admonished, but his offense drew a giggle out of Peter which made Harley shoot him a sunny smile.

“Batman’s all hot now,” Peter said solemnly, deciding to join in on the fun.

Now?” Harley was affronted. “What, you didn’t think Bale was hot growing up?”

Peter shrugged. He had always been a prequels Obi-Wan crusher himself, but he wasn’t about to admit to his deep dark (not-so-secret, secret) during his first meeting with the guy. That was some serious ammo, and he didn’t take it lightly. “Eh, Christian Bale was never my type. I watched American Psycho a little too early and it creeped me out for life. Pattinson’s Batman though, yeah, sign me up.”

Harley just looked at him like he hung the moon and Peter shifted uncomfortably. He didn't know how to react to the sudden influx of warmth that was filing his cheeks, and his lower stomach. It was like someone had let out a whole factory of butterflies into the pit of his stomach, and it was very distracting.

“So emo vampires are your type, and not aggressive Alphas, got it.” Harley grinned, before tapping his nose.

Peter didn’t want him to know just how on the nose he was. Especially with the Alpha part.

“As much as I love talking shop about cute boys,” Tony broke in, sounding just the taddest bit annoyed. Whatever, his ego was still probably hurt over the Batman comment. “Can we actually get to work here?”

Harley nodded, and went over to one of the lab tables, but not before he shot Peter a wink. Peter wanted to die. He felt a little close to it with the way his heart was hammering inside his chest. Why was Harley making him so nervous?

Tony pulled up a hologram of one of his new prototypes without any other preamble and pretty soon they all got to work. It was easy to distract them all with science. They got lost in the thrum of calculations and test simulators for a while. Peter was struck at how easily Harley seemed to fit into their dynamic. He was a lot more comfortable with Tony than Peter was himself. He seemed to have no problem giving the older man hard time, or making any jokes at his expense.

They were partway through the session when Peter looked up, startled, as he realized something. “Hey, you never told me how you guys met for real.”

Harley threw Peter the exact screwdriver he had just spent five minutes looking for and said, “He broke into my garage when I was 10. The Iron Man suit was busted, so I helped him fix it.”

Peter was gobsmacked. That sounded like the dream. “Really?”

Tony snorted from where he was perched on his own stool. “‘Help’, and ‘fix’ are strong words, buddy. I used your tools while you mostly sat there and looked pretty.”

Harley brought a hand to his heart and made a wounded noise. “I protected you, using my life and potato gun, and this is how you repay me?”

Tony sighed as Harley laughed, and Peter couldn’t help laughing too, it was infectious.

Things had been going great. Peter was starting to genuinely like Harley, and thought that maybe they could be friends. He had even started psyching himself up to ask Harley, when they had a moment, if he wanted to hang out with Peter and his friends sometime. He got a little tingly imagining Harley and MJ interacting. He had a feeling they would rip each other to shreds in a really fun way.

All of those plans were of course, before the incident.

The incident was completely accidental, as all the worst moments in Peter’s life tended to be. He hadn’t gotten that close to Harley yet. There hadn’t been any reason. There had been no need to get into each other’s personal space, and as a rule he never paid much attention to pheromones or people’s designations if he could suss it out. It didn’t matter, to him at least, not really. He tried to steer clear of Alphas because they made him a little wary, but he tried to never actively judge someone on their designation.

It all went wrong when Harley came up behind him and put a hand on his hip. It was an innocent gesture, just a way for him to signal that he was behind Peter, and wanted him to step to the side for a second so he could grab something. Peter guessed that he needed the laser cutter that was sitting on the table Peter was using to tinker with one of his projects. Harley went to grab it right at the same time that Peter tripped on seemingly nothing, which caused Harley to accidentally have his face shoved right into Peter’s neck.

As soon as he was that close Peter got a noseful of his scent, from being in such proximity to his scent gland. He was immediately swathed in the campfire smell, with the clean sheets, and apples from the state fair. Peter had never been to a state fair before, but he could immediately identify the smell like it was ingrained in him. He gasped as the scent filled his nose and his knees nearly buckled. It was like a cloud covered his brain and all he wanted was more, more, more.

From Harley’s scent, and his closeness, there was no mistaking that he was an Alpha. Peter normally hated the smell of most Alpha. They came off as too musky, or even worse, spicy, and with his elevated senses, if his body rejected someone’s scent, it made things a million times worse. His senses in this case though, only heightened Harley’s scent. It felt like it was consuming him, and he couldn’t get enough. His eyes fluttered shut as he took a deep breath. Harley smelled so good. He was one of the best things Peter had ever smelt.

All Peter wanted to do was bury his face into Harley’s neck and breathe him in. He wanted his scent all over him. He smelled like his Alpha and-

Peter’s eyes flew open as soon as he processed that thought and took a jerky step back, then he took another, and another, until he was a couple feet from Harley and could breathe in air that wasn’t covered in his scent. It was like a record-scratching as soon as he could think again without the Omega in him going into overdrive. He had never had a reaction like that before. All other Alphas to him had smelled kind of wrong but Harley-

Harley had smelled right. He smelled like home. Peter’s legs trembled as he stared at Harley in horror. This couldn’t be happening. Not with Harley, not right then. This was all wrong. Peter cursed his Omega biology for the millionth time as he immediately left the Tower without another word. He ignored Tony’s confused calls after him as he swung out the window.


It was only later, when he had his head screwed back on straight that he promised himself that he was going to leave Harley alone. He was only going to see him when he had to. He was an Omega, sure. But he wasn’t brainless. He wasn’t going to just bend over for whatever Alpha smelled good to him that day. Plus, Harley probably was grossed out. All Peter wanted was to prove that he was more than just a dumb Omega and there, on his first day meeting the guy he had made a complete fool of himself, and got close to leaking slick all because he tripped and put his face into his neck. It was pathetic, really.

He was saving him and Harley from potential embarrassment if he just stayed away. It was a good decision, and he was happy with the conclusion that he came to. It didn’t matter if his body was already seeking out Harley’s alluring scent, wanting another taste. Peter could control himself. His entire life had been various tests of his iron will, and this was just another one.


What he hadn’t planned on, was Harley not wanting to leave him alone.


It only took two weeks for Harley to find him and corner him alone in the Tower one day. Peter had never seen him look so serious. He had asked if he’d done something wrong, and if he had he was sorry. Peter had assured him that he had just been busy because, what else was he supposed to say? Your Alpha pheromones make my inner-Omega want to jump you and mate with you so bad I can barely control myself, which is weird because I barely know you, and you probably are most definitely not down for that. Yeah, he was pretty sure that wouldn’t fly.

Harley still seemed dubious, especially after Peter continued to keep his distance. He tried his best to be nonchalant about it, and really make it appear like he was just overwhelmed with classes (and patrol), which at least wasn’t a complete lie. His classes were absolutely kicking his ass, but not enough for him not to have some spare moments. Tony was a little too keen on the idea of them becoming best of pals, which Peter was certain wasn’t going to be in the cards, not when his hormones went crazy when simply being close to Harley.

What made everything so much worse was his heats. Now that his body had gotten a taste of what it considered a desirable Alpha, his heats seemed to ratchet up their intensity. His loneliness and emptiness increased tenfold. He sobbed brokenly as he finger-fucked himself through another miserable orgasm. It wasn’t enough. It was never enough. He would be in agony until his fever always broke on the third day.

After his heats he couldn’t so much as look at Harley, even in passing. He would get closed off and avoid his touch, despite it only being casual. Even the smallest thing was too much. It was like letting him have a treat he wasn’t allowed to have. Harley, for his part, didn’t seem all too interested in Peter that way. Sure, he flirted, but he kind of flirted with anything that moved, he was oddly similar to Tony in that way.

Harley was nice enough. He had never treated Peter with anything other than kindness. He liked cracking jokes, but he never made Peter feel like he was making fun of him. Honestly? He was practically perfect in every way, and it scared the shit out of Peter.

So Peter stayed away. He avoided Harley whenever he could. When he was forced to interact with him he did his best to act like nothing was amiss. Harley never seemed to fully believe him, but that was fine. Harley didn’t need to believe him, he just needed to stay away.

They couldn’t go on like this forever, Peter knew. He just assumed that maybe he’d have more time.


There was a lab session that Peter couldn’t get out of. He hadn’t known that Harley was going to be there until he walked in and saw him. His smile faltered, he couldn’t help it. He knew Harley caught it, but he steeled himself and immediately got to work. If Tony was there everything was fine. He would work as a mediator.

But then Pepper had called Tony and acted like there was some small emergency happening that made Tony bolt from the lab. Peter hadn’t even heard what the problem was, but soon it was just him and Harley, alone in the lab. Peter gulped, and tried to keep his hands from shaking as he continued what he had been working on. He could feel Harley repeatedly glancing at him, but did his best to not pay any attention to it.

That was until Harley said, almost out of nowhere. “Are you ever going to tell me what I did?”

Peter startled, and his super-strength slipped, causing him to crush the pen in his hand like it was a pencil. He stared at it for a second in shock before he tossed it onto the table to pretend like it had never happened, just like he was going to do with what Harley had just said. He had gotten good at pretending things had never happened.

“I guess that’s a no, huh?”

Peter swallowed and paid careful attention to the equation in front of him as he said, “You didn’t do anything.”

“That’s funny,” Harley replied, but it sounded like there was no humor in it. “Because I thought we were cool on the first day, then all the sudden you ran out. You avoid me like I have the plague sometimes.” When Peter looked over at him, he shrugged, a little helplessly. “I just want to know what I did so I can apologize.”

Peter broke another pen. “You didn’t do anything.”

“Did I ever say something to offend you?”

“Only that ewoks are spawn babies and not cute once-so-ever.” Peter told him evenly.

“I still stand by that statement.” Harley smiled, the small one that was soft, and not as biting as his grin. Peter returned his smile, he couldn’t not. It was mostly involuntary. Harley did that to him a lot. Harley sucked in a breath that sounded pained. “When you laugh at my jokes it sends me a lot of mixed signals.”

Peter sighed. He wanted to break another pen, but he knew there wasn’t an endless supply, and he would need them if he ever decided to finish his Trig homework while he was there. “It’s not-” Peter pinched the bridge of his nose. “You didn’t do anything,” he repeated, feeling like a broken record.

Harley was quiet for a little while, and Peter was optimistic enough to hope that maybe that was the end of it. He should have known that it wouldn’t be.

“Is it because I’m an Alpha?” The twitch of Peter’s eyebrow must have been what gave him away. “Really? That’s it?”

Peter really didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want Harley to keep digging deeper. He would spill all of his trauma in a heartbeat if Harley asked the right question, he knew he would. But he didn’t want to. That part of him and what he had to go through was his. Harley didn’t have any right to it. He especially didn’t have any right to judge Peter when he didn’t know.

“Tony’s an Alpha, though.” Harley said, like he still hadn’t connected all the pieces. That was good. Peter didn’t want him to.

What he didn’t know is that Peter had met Tony when he still thought he was a Beta and had been under the impression that he was safe. He hadn’t felt safe since the day he presented as an Omega. He also didn’t want to tell Harley that feeling safe around him really wasn’t the problem - it was the opposite actually.

Peter started shoving his textbook and the rest of his papers into his backpack. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t be on the other end of Harley’s questions and lie to him, or pretend like everything was okay when it wasn’t. He kind of wanted to cry when he broke another pen, but he didn’t. He supposed he was glad he could keep himself in check enough that he didn’t rip his backpack of all things. May would be pissed if she would have to replace another one.

Harley seemed to panic as he watched Peter. “Hey, wait. Peter, you don’t have to leave. I was out of line.”

Peter slung his backpack over his shoulder. He hesitated, then said, “You weren’t out of line. I just. I gotta go.” He scurried out of the lab before Harley could stop him.


He didn’t see Harley for a few weeks after that. Peter pretended that he didn’t miss him, or his scent. It was okay. You couldn’t miss things that didn’t belong to you.


Of course Parker luck would follow Peter around everywhere. Of course it would.

He had never even considered the fact that MJ went to Columbia and would maybe have a class or two with Harley. It was a big enough school that the thought had never crossed his mind.

Peter clenched his fists so tight he was sure at one point he might have drawn blood from his nails as MJ invited the whole group out to Peter’s favorite arcade, and of course invited Harley as her new friend from class. Peter watched them, and lost game after game. Was MJ giggling more? They seemed awfully close. Was MJ even into Alphas? Peter couldn’t remember. It would make sense. She had made an alarming amount of jokes about Charlize Theron choking her after they all saw Atomic Blonde in theaters. Perhaps it hadn’t all been to make them laugh.

When Ned beat Peter at their third game of air hockey he called for an intervention. “Dude, I think if you had lasers for eyes they would have burned through MJ and that guy she brought. I thought you and MJ were ancient history.”

“We are.” Peter told him distractedly, a sour taste in his mouth. He debated telling Ned about his connection to Harley. Ned already knew about the Alpha protege that had been torturing Peter for months, maybe he deserved to know. Maybe then Ned would save him from the fate of having to watch MJ and Harley argue over what prize they were going to get with their tickets. Peter kind of wanted to throw up. “So I sort of, know Harley.” He said weakly. Ned looked at him encouragingly, catching on immediately that there was more to the story. “He’s Tony’s other intern.”

Ned’s eyes widened in alarm. “Oh shit. So he’s-”

“Yes.” Peter hissed, side-eyeing Harley and MJ, just to make sure there was no way they could be overhearing this conversation. “Now, are you going to help me with an excuse to get out of here and end my misery, or are you going to continue being a sucky wing-man.”

“I think shuffling you out of here would actually be me being a shitty wing-man.” Ned pointed out reasonably, and Peter wanted to strangle him. Why did he keep him around, again?

Then, Ned did the unthinkable, and ditched Peter by the air hockey table, and walked over to Harley and MJ, leaving Peter gobsmacked, and abandoned. So much for best friends, huh? While Peter was busy wallowing in his feelings of betrayal, he didn’t pay attention to Ned and MJ splitting off, leaving Harley to head in his direction.

Peter’s eyes widened as he watched Ned and MJ leave the arcade, making it so him and Harley were alone. Well, there were still haphazard clumps of people scattered around, but they were alone now from the group. He glanced around frantically for a way out, but couldn’t find one.

“Hey,” Harley said once he got close, but was careful to hang a few feet back so Peter wouldn’t catch any wifts of his scent. Peter was grateful, but (secretly) disappointed. “Ned and MJ took off, Ned said something about a curfew. That leaves me as your ride. Do you wanna stay, or head out now?”

“Oh.” Peter said, shooting a glare to Ned in spirit. The bastard. They were going to have to have words later. “I- um.”

Harley looked around at the groups of people, and put his hands in his pockets, like he was looking for something to do. “Look, I know you can’t stand me but-”

Peter felt bile rise in the back of his throat. Harley thought he couldn’t stand him? Granted, he hadn’t had the best attitude towards him, and maybe gave him that impression sometimes. But God, Peter didn’t hate him. He didn’t want Harley to think that he hated him.

“That’s not it.” Peter said, and winced. He was being cryptic, he knew it. But it wouldn’t make sense unless he told Harley everything, and he still was walking the fence with that one. Everyone in his circle knew, but he still wasn’t sure if he could trust Harley yet. And a little part of him was scared of him still, even though it was irrational and Harley had never done anything to imply that he even knew about Peter’s second gender. He took scent blockers to make the ones in his suit more effective, but if you got all up in Peter’s scent glands you could tell that he was an Omega.

“Do you-” Harley cut himself off and let out a self-deprecating laugh, like there was a joke and he was the butt of it. “There’s an ice cream shop down the street. Do you wanna get ice cream?”

Peter registered with a jolt that maybe he was being completely unfair. Harley had never once even mentioned, or treated him differently because of his second gender, and here Peter was, reducing Harley down totally to his status. It made him a hypocrite. Perhaps Harley deserved a chance.

Peter took a breath, settling in his decision, and then said, “Yeah. Let’s get some ice cream.”


They walked side by side down the street until they got to the little ice cream stand. Harley got them both double scoop cones, chocolate for himself, and strawberry for Peter. He paid for both of them, and handed Peter’s to him like they were on a date or something, and Peter had to hide his blush. His dumb Omega brain couldn’t stop purring over the prospect of an Alpha feeding him, providing for him, a voice supplied, and he wanted to drop kick that voice until it was bleeding.

It was nice, though.

Harley and him parked on a picnic table that was in a grassy part near the ice cream stand. They people-watched from the table as they enjoyed their ice cream. They joked around, and it was fun. For a minute, Peter could forget everything. He forgot all about his status, and about Harley’s. They were just two people, eating ice cream together and making each other laugh. It was as simple as that.

It struck Peter suddenly as he watched Harley in the glow of the streetlights. He was beautiful. Peter knew of course. He wasn’t able to stop thinking about how beautiful he was, constantly. But it hit him then, in the moment. Harley was so beautiful. What was stopping him?

Before he even realized what he was doing Peter was leaning forward and kissing him. He kissed Harley like he was starving for it, and licked inside his mouth. He tasted like chocolate ice cream, Harley, and home, and it was all Peter had ever wanted. He kissed Harley until he became aware of the rest of his ice cream cone dripping onto his hand. He pulled away to scope out the damage, but ended up dropping the cone on the ground as Harley reared him back in for another kiss. This one was hotter, and wetter, as Harley kissed back in earnest. Peter felt like he was going crazy. He had never thought kissing could feel that good.

He broke away with a gasp, and stared at Harley. Oh fuck. There was no going back now, was there?

Harley brought a hand up to cup Peter’s cheek. “Just tell me.” He whispered, his voice soft. “Whatever it is that you’re not telling me. Just tell me, please.”

Peter closed his eyes. He didn’t even know what he was asking for. Peter didn’t know if he could handle Harley looking at him differently afterwards. But, one thing he did know, was now that Harley was looking at him he never wanted him to stop.

“Not here.” He eventually said, matching Harley’s tone in a whisper. “I’ll tell you, just- not here.”

“Where?” Harley asked.

Peter smiled then. “Have you been to Queens, yet?”


Peter wrung his hands as Harley sat down on his bunk bed. Harley looked at the wooden frame a little precariously and tested its sturdiness with a few lazy pulls before flashing Peter a delighted grin. “I always wanted bunk beds growing up.”

Peter would have laughed, but he just felt faintly sick. “I needed a new bed.” Was all he could manage.

Harley squinted, but didn’t say anything.

Peter sighed, and wiped the sweat from his palms off on his jeans. He debated sitting down next to Harley on the bed for a few seconds before he got up the courage and did it. This was the moment that would make or break them. Peter suddenly was at a loss for words. He didn’t know where to begin. He basically said as much to Harley.

“Tell me whatever you want to tell me.” Harley urged gently. “If you don’t want to tell me it’s okay. I don’t want to push you into something you’re uncomfortable with.”

It was those words that filled Peter with warmth and made him want to tell him. He could do this. He could.

He took a deep breath in, then let it out. “When I was 13 my Uncle Ben died. We were close, and it hit me hard.” He had to blink back the visions of his hands covered in Uncle Ben’s blood. The visions of sitting in the squeaky hospital waiting room chairs, blood stains on his hoodie as the doctor told him that Ben hadn’t made it, that he had lost too much blood, his wound too severe for them to operate. The tragedy of Ben deserved its own telling, and now wasn’t the time. So, he trudged ahead, wanting it all out and over with. “May recommended that I go to group therapy with other teenagers for grief counseling. It helped at first. It was nice talking to kids my own age who’d been through something similar.”

Harley thankfully didn’t say anything as he let Peter gather up his next collection of words. “There was this guy in the group. He was 16, and he seemed to like me. He took me seriously, you know? He didn’t treat me like a kid. His dad had died in a burglary the previous year - he was shot in the room right next to him. So he got it. I trusted him.”

He felt Harley tense up beside him but it was important that he continued. “He would come over and hang out sometimes. It was fine. It was normal. Then one night-” Peter shuddered, clenching his fists. “One night May was working late so I invited him over. He had been acting off, but at the time I couldn’t place it. It wasn’t until he...he raped me in my own bed, and I felt like an idiot. I told May about it after it happened and we uh, we got a restraining order. He didn’t go to the same school so I didn’t have to worry about that. I haven’t seen him since, so…” Peter trailed off awkwardly, shaking.

“He was an Alpha, wasn’t he.” Harley said it like it wasn’t even a question, his voice flat and dark. “That’s why you’re scared of me.”

Peter shook his head. “I’m not scared of you I-

Harley’s mouth formed a thin line. “You just don’t trust me.”


Before the word was even completely out of his mouth Harley wrapped his arms around him and pulled him in tight. Peter was immediately encompassed by his scent. It swirled around him and calmed him instantly. He snuggled into him, letting his nose rest right by his neck. He had been depriving himself from this for so long that it made him almost dizzy to fully take in his scent. It was so good he couldn’t do anything but breathe for a little bit. Then he said, his voice no louder than a whisper, “I’m not scared of you, and that’s what’s scary.”

Harley kissed over his temple. “I’m not going to let anybody hurt you, ever again.”

Peter kind of wanted to laugh. There was no way Harley could uphold that promise. He was Spider-Man, having people hurt him was kind of his job. He could appreciate the sentiment, though. His inner-Omega seemed happy enough about it.

Something in him cracked open a little bit at his tenderness. “I was supposed to be a Beta.” Peter told him, feeling tears prickle at the corner of his eyes. “I was a Beta. I didn’t present until I was almost 18.” Peter sobbed, clutching tighter at Harley’s arms as he spat out the next part. “The whole time he said he knew I was going to be an Omega and that I needed to be trained. He said that I would enjoy it if I just grew up. He kept saying to be the good Omega he knew I could be.” His lip wobbled as Harley continued to hold him. “It felt like my body was betraying me when I presented, like, like I was proving him r-right or s-something.” He stuttered out, thankful to finally get it all off his chest.

“Oh Peter, baby.” Harley rasped, bringing a hand up to run through Peter’s hair.

“I wasn’t supposed to be an Omega,” Peter cried. Harley pressed Peter into his neck, intensifying his scent. If it was anyone else Peter would have thrashed around violently, but because it was Harley he didn’t want to. He wanted to stay inside his arms forever because nobody could hurt him there. Harley wouldn’t let them.

“I’m so sorry, angel.” Harley soothed, and continued to play with Peter’s hair until Peter’s tears were drying and he was slowly going spineless. “There’s nothing wrong with being an Omega. It doesn’t mean that you’re weak and it doesn’t mean that he was right. He was an asshole who took advantage of you, and none of that is your fault.”

“I know.” Peter whispered, even though it was hard for him to agree. It was something he’d been fighting with for years. “But when instincts kick in,” his mouth twisted on the acknowledgement, “It feels like him. Like he’s tainted me. Like he was right all along, and I hate it.”

Harley kissed his forehead, holding onto him tightly. “I don’t think there’s anything I can say to make that all go away, but all of that Omega stuff, that’s you. That’s not him. He doesn’t get to claim a piece of you. You’re your own person, Omega and all, you just have to figure out what that means for you.”

Peter watched his hands as they rested in his lap. He flexed his fingers, watching them open and close at will as he considered his next words. “He’s part of the reason I’m Spider-Man.” It felt good to say it out loud, to admit to the hidden darkness that plagued his other persona. “Like, it’s because of Uncle Ben, and it’s because I have a responsibility, that’s all still true but-” He drew in a breath. “But.” He said again with a little more finality. “The first time? At the start, when it was just me and my hoodie...I remember wanting to feel powerful again. I felt like he had stripped everything from me, and he made me weak. But when I was on the streets helping people it was like I was proving him wrong. Sometimes I still want to keep proving him wrong.”

“You don’t have to prove him wrong though,” Harley said heedfully, then continued when Peter shot him a confused look. “He’s already wrong. Everything he said was wrong. You can be whoever you want to be. You are whoever you want to be. Even being an Omega doesn’t have to define you if you don’t want it to. Sure, there’s instincts that are hard to rewire, but it’s not impossible. Being an Omega is an extension of who you are and it doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”

Peter still seemed dubious, and Harley didn’t know what else he should say. “I just hate that he’s still running my life. It’s been years and it’s still like-” Peter curled in on himself to make himself appear smaller. “He owns me, or Spider-Man at least.”

“Hey no,” Harley replied a little harshly, but Peter needed to understand. “He doesn’t own you, and he sure as hell doesn’t own Spider-Man. Nobody owns Spider-Man other than Peter Parker, okay? Not even fucking Tony. He’s yours, all yours, and nobody can take that from you. I know you hate to submit to someone you don’t trust, and you hate your instincts but you have to know that.”

Peter’s gaze turned a little starry. “I don’t hate all my instincts,” he mumbled, then said, “It was just - worse around you,” Peter admitted. When he felt Harley stiffen around him he was quick to amend, “I just, I’m an Omega, and I’ve had to come to terms with it. Most of the time I don’t notice it; I still felt the same, and I would forget about it. But, whenever I was with you I couldn’t forget. It was like all the Omega parts inside of me were screaming and I hated it, because I didn’t want to lose control. I didn’t want to submit again.”

“Peter, baby, you have to know I would never-” Harley started, with complete conviction, but Peter quickly shushed him.

“I know. I know. You were always perfect, and sweet, and you felt like my Alpha and it was so scary because I’ve never-” Peter took a big breath, going for the big guns. He was going to lay it all on the table. “I’ve never felt the way I do about you with anyone else before.”

Harley just looked at him with something akin to wonder. “You feel like I’m your Alpha?”

Peter nodded, suddenly going shy. “I don’t really like Alphas, but then I smelled you in the lab that first day and you smelled so good. I was terrified for a while, but it never went away. Even now you…” Peter trailed off, subconsciously nosing closer to Harley’s scent gland. “You smell so good.” Peter felt Harley shudder at his words.

“Baby,” Harley breathed, entirely revenant. “Do you have any idea how good you smell? Jesus. I thought. God, I thought you knew how much I wanted you and you were trying to avoid me. You just looked so scared, and I thought I had hurt you. I racked my brain over and over again to try and figure out what I did but I couldn’t think of anything. I just wanted to know what it was so I could fix it, so you could relax.”

Peter teared up again. “You’ve never hurt me.” Peter’s hands shook as he bracketed Harley’s cheeks with them. “I know I’m fucked up, but I think I want to give this a chance. You make me feel safe.”

“We’re both fucked up,” Harley told him gently, and Peter’s heart seized for a brief moment as he worried that Harley was going to turn him down. “But that’s okay.” Harley tangled their fingers together and placed a soft kiss to Peter’s neck, a centimeter away from his scent gland, making him shiver. “We can fuck this up together, right?”

Peter laughed against the hollow of Harley’s throat. It was the lightest he’d felt in ages.


After that, things changed. Not as much as Peter thought it would.

They both still had school, and responsibilities that made them busy. They also still had lab time every so often where they had to pretend that they were acquaintances to avoid any unwanted attention. It wasn’t that they were hiding, in the beginning Peter wanted every aspect of their relationship to be theirs. Plus, he didn’t want to have to feed into the stereotype of an Alpha owning him. Harley sure as hell didn’t own him, just as he didn’t own Harley. Every day that they were together it was because they both made a conscious choice to be there.

Harley in the meantime was the best boyfriend Peter could ask for. He always made time for Peter, even when they both were slammed. It didn’t matter to him if they went out or if their date was just them both studying on Peter’s bottom bunk, trading lazy kisses whenever the other one finished an assignment. Harley made him laugh, and he always smiled a little uncontrollably whenever he got a text from him. Also, he made Peter feel safe. Sometimes it felt like Peter couldn’t relax all day, and then he’d see Harley, and it was like it all melted away. He could breathe easier when Harley was in his space.

They took things slow, too. Harley never pushed him into doing something that he didn’t want to do. They had started off with kissing, which had eventually moved on to fully making out. Peter was careful not to initiate anything below the waist at the start. He let himself relish the feeling of Harley’s lips against his for the first while, and how sensitive his neck was when Harley kissed down from his jaw to his collarbone. Then one day he bit over Peter’s scent gland, just as a test, Peter swore he saw God, and he came in his pants like he was 14 again. Peter had been completely mortified, but Harley had just comforted him, and insisted that it was really hot. He steered clear of his scent gland after that, much to Peter’s chagrin.

Peter loved taking it slow. He felt respected and cherished in a way he had never experienced before. His stomach still swooped whenever he pressed a kiss to Harley’s lips because he could just do that now - whenever he wanted. He could touch Harley whenever he wanted, and was free to smell him whenever he wanted. It was intoxicating.

After taking it slow for a while though, Peter couldn’t help but feel like he wanted more. He was terrified of being intimate with someone, but he also wanted Harley. Harley who was gentle, and hot, and beautiful, and did Peter mention, hot? (When Harley had put on one of Peter’s stupid science pun t’s after he had spilled Dr. Pepper all down his own shirt Peter had to try very hard to keep his drool in his mouth and his brain from frying on the spot.)

Yes, Peter was a victim who still had trauma he had to work through. But Peter was kind of sick of constantly working through it with no pay off. He wanted to feel like a normal person again. Harley wasn’t Skip. They didn’t even deserve to be in the same sentence. Harley would never hurt him (unless he asked), and that was one of the reasons Peter loved him.

Peter had a crazy hot boyfriend who worked well with his hands, could you blame him for wanting to get dicked down?

(It hadn’t been pressing until he had to go through heats alone while with Harley. If Peter thought they were bad when he was single it was a whole different world when his body knew exactly the Alpha he was craving and couldn’t understand why the Alpha wasn’t there. He felt so lonely and empty that he cried until he couldn’t cry anymore, waiting valiantly each time for those three miserable days to be up. Afterwards, he would cling to Harley like a lifeline. Harley would always come over, and pull him into his lap while they watched a movie. Peter was sure his face never left his neck the entire time as he tried to placate the feelings of abandonment. It went away when he got to be with Harley. Though, it was starting to make him dread his heats even more than usual.)


When Peter was one week out from his next heat he made the decision that he was going to ask Harley to share it with him. He prepared himself for Harley to say ‘no’, because he didn’t want to be too disappointed if that was his answer. Harley was very adamant about them taking things slow and not moving too fast in case Peter got hurt in the process. Peter loved that, he really did. But he was also at the point that he was pretty sure he wanted Harley to fuck him, so you could see his dilemma.

When Peter asked Harley seemed hesitant. He didn’t give an outright ‘no’, but he wasn’t exactly sure right off the bat either. It was easy to convince him though when Peter went into what his heats were like when he was alone. He trusted Harley, and he didn’t want to feel cold and empty if he didn’t have to. Harley had said he would think about it, which had morphed into an agreement by the end of the night. Peter was equal parts nervous and excited.


The night that Peter’s heat hit, he managed to corral May out of the apartment, and she was under strict orders to stay away for a few days. Her and Happy were going somewhere and doing something out of state that Peter really didn’t want the details on unless he had to.

Harley had come over, and for lack of anything better to do they had thrown on a movie. It was one that Peter had never seen before, and he hoped that it would be distracting enough against his nerves. In the movie’s defense, he was distracted in the first half, but then his stomach started cramping and he froze.

Harley caught on immediately, and threw his arm over Peter’s shoulder, pulling him closer. Peter sighed as he felt the Alpha pheromones wash over him, they already made him feel better. As long as Harley was touching him, things were going to be okay. Throughout the rest of the movie Harley made sure to keep physical contact at all times. His fingers rubbed at Peter’s neck, before they trailed up and occasionally tangled in his hair. He brought his other hand to Peter’s knee, and just rested it there.

As the movie played onscreen, Harley’s hand started working its way up Peter’s leg. His movements were slow, and mind-melting. By the time his hand had crept up to Peter’s thigh he was already aching and leaking slick into his underwear. Peter’s eyes fluttered, and his head tilted back as Harley’s hand went even higher, then stopped.

“Are you feeling it, yet?” Harley asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Peter swallowed, then said, “Yeah.” He licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry, and repeated himself. “Yeah.”

Peter closed his eyes as he tried to zero in on every place that Harley was touching him, and just focused on that. He still had a little time before he would get desperate, but not that much time. After a few minutes, Peter blinked his eyes open and saw the credits to the movie rolling on the tv, and the only thing lighting Harley up was the pale glow from the tv.

Harley maneuvered Peter into his lap, carefully, after he shot him a questioning glance. Peter straddled him, and let his legs fall open on either side of Harley’s, resting them hip to hip. This way he was facing Harley, and it felt incredibly intimate. He wanted to look at him, but it was easier if he didn’t, so he tucked his face into Harley’s shoulder. One of Harley’s hands wrapped around his hip, while the other slipped up and under Peter’s t-shirt to rest flat on the skin of his back. Peter shivered at the contact and could feel his hole clenching. He wanted Harley so bad. It wasn’t a new feeling, but he felt suddenly empowered at the fact that he could have him. That he got to have him.

Peter started rolling his hips in Harley’s lap, more as a tester than anything at first. He let out a huff of breath when Harley tightened the hand around his hip and guided him into more of a rhythm. They grinded like that while Peter continued to leak slick into his underwear. When he finally pulled his face out from Harley’s neck, he was delighted to find his lips waiting for him. The kiss was open-mouthed, and dirty, with Harley’s tongue seeking entrance right away. Peter let him take control of the kiss as he rocked his hips. It felt like a fire was starting low in his belly that was spreading everywhere.

They kissed languidly, mouths meeting each other again, and again, until Peter had to pull away to greedily suck in air for his lungs. Harley panted beneath him as his hands slid up and down Peter’s torso from under his shirt. His one hand inched up until he tweaked one of Peter’s nipples. Peter gasped, and immediately his head fell back as a needy whine came out from the back of his throat. Harley squeezed his nipple again and he jolted, suddenly working his hips faster.

Harley pecked Peter’s lips before he sucked down Peter’s neck, then went back up to graze his ear with his teeth. “Could you come from this, baby?”

It felt good, and Peter knew he could probably come if Harley kept going, but he didn’t want to. Not like this. He could feel what his body was actually craving. The loneliness was seeping into the pit of his stomach, and he recognized that all he wanted was to be filled. He would be satisfied then.

Peter shook his head, and Harley stopped what he was doing, letting his hands fall at Peter’s sides. Peter had to hold back a whine at the loss. “I could,” Peter clarified, because he hadn’t wanted Harley to stop. “I just want-” He cut himself off, feeling the blush creep its way onto his cheeks as his face turned red. He had to fight very hard not to hide his face in Harley’s neck again.

Harley’s hands reached up and cupped at Peter’s jaw, forcing him to look at him. “Remember what we talked about, angel? You gotta tell me. You gotta tell me what you want.”

Peter nodded, biting his lip. He could do it. He could tell Harley what he wanted. He shifted so that his mouth was right against Harley’s ear. He whispered his words quietly, so Harley was the only one who would ever hear them. He whispered, “I just want to come on your knot.”

The most beautiful groan fell from Harley’s mouth in response to Peter’s words. Peter had to hold back his smile.

“You’re so hot, baby.” Harley told him earnestly, working their hips together again, a little more urgently. “Well, we better do what you say.” Harley drawled. “Whatever my baby wants, he gets.”

Peter sighed, pressing a kiss to his neck. He had kind of an unhealthy obsession with Harley’s neck, but it was his favorite place to be. He could surround himself with Harley’s scent, and it calmed him. “Your baby,” He mumbled happily.

Harley growled, a deep rumbling thing that came from the center of his chest. “My baby.” He repeated, just so Peter was sure. “We should probably move this to your room.” Peter nodded frantically, but didn’t make any moves to get up, and remained smothered in Harley’s arms. Harley laughed. “You gotta get up, honey, if we’re gonna move.”

Peter closed his eyes. If it was any other time or under any other circumstances he would have been embarrassed by his behavior, but his heat was tinging the edges of his decision making skills and he was slowly getting reduced down to his most basic instincts. He wanted his Alpha to take care of him, and fill him with his knot. “Can you carry me?” Peter asked, a little pathetically.

Harley only smiled softly at him and laid one of his hands on his cheek. “I said whatever my baby wants, he gets. Just hold on tight so I don’t drop you, alright babydoll?”

Peter didn’t waste any time clinging to him like an octopus as Harley shuffled them to the end of the couch so he had leverage to stand up. He stood up, bracing Peter’s weight with his with a quiet groan. He wasn’t anywhere near as strong as Peter was, what with him not having superpowers, but he was a little bulkier than he looked. He was strong enough from moving machinery and parts around in the lab to be able to support Peter’s weight, at least well enough to carry him to the bedroom.

When they got to the bedroom, Harley dumped Peter onto the bottom bunk, and very nearly missed hitting his head on the wooden frame as he crawled on top of him. Peter giggled as Harley glared up at the top bunk. “Don’t get a concussion, please,” Peter warned, but not without a grin on his face. “I’m gonna need you unconcussed for the next few days.”

“That’s sweet, angel,” Harley teased. “But I’d fuck you even if I had a concussion. I promise.”

Peter rolled his eyes, but then started making grabby hands at the bottom of his shirt. Harley nudged his hands away and shucked his shirt off, tossing it onto the ground. He tsked. “That’s your one item, babydoll. Now I wanna see you take everything off.”

Peter flushed, his cheeks turning a pretty pink. He took his shirt off without much problem, and Harley rewarded him by kissing up his chest, taking in all the smooth skin that was on display for him. His hands went down to the band of his sweatpants but they froze. Harley waited patiently for Peter to gather up the courage or tell him what was wrong.

“Peter, baby, you gotta tell me,” Harley urged after a minute of Peter being frozen, his breath gone shaky.

Peter nodded, and his breath seemed to go back to normal. “Can-can you take my pants off?” He asked shyly. He was the most beautiful thing Harley had ever seen.

Harley kissed him, and that seemed to relax him.

Peter shuddered pleasantly as Harley started pulling down his pants, leaving him in just his boxers. “Oh honey,” Harley breathed, his voice low as soon as his boxers were exposed. Peter felt another dribble of slick come out of his hole at Harley’s tone. He wanted him so badly it felt like he might crumble from it. “You’re soaked.” Peter nodded as he tried to get Harley’s hands under his boxers.

Peter gasped as Harley’s hands slipped under the waistband of his underwear. His fingers parted Peter’s cheeks and traced over his wet hole. Peter tossed his head back against the pillow and jerked his hips. He was so empty, and he needed Harley.

“Are you wet because of me?” Harley asked, waiting for an affirmative before he entered one of his fingers.

“Yeah,” Peter croaked, remembering how Harley had wanted verbal answers. “Want you. Want your knot.”

Harley sucked in a breath as he had to steady himself. Peter was the literal dream beneath him. He had to think very hard about unsexy things to prevent his knot from popping too early. If it popped before he was inside Peter there was no way he’d be able to penetrate him and that would ruin the whole point of all of this. Sure, just having his Alpha pheromones would help Peter in heat, but not as much as his knot would. Harley was secretly very glad that his rut hadn’t timed with Peter’s heat yet, at least for their first one together. He didn’t want to have to worry about losing control when Peter deserved nothing but the best. He deserved for someone to take their time with him and dote on him.

Harley peeled off Peter’s boxers carefully, and watched with dark eyes as his hard cock flopped against his stomach. He pried apart Peter’s legs, and pulled up his left leg so that his knee rested on his shoulder. He got an eyeful of Peter’s slicked up hole and bit back a groan of appreciation. Peter writhed beneath him, as Harley watched his hole clench repeatedly around nothing.

“I got you,” Harley promised as he slipped his first finger inside Peter. He nosed along Peter’s scent gland in hopes that it would calm him down, and clear some of the fog. Once Peter was needily jerking back on his one finger he added another. Peter felt like heaven around his fingers, all tight and wet. He had slick coating his inner thighs, and Harley wanted to keep him forever.

He prodded at Peter’s hole, fingering him until Peter was squirming, and rocking down onto his hand with force. “Harley, Harley, Harley-” He chanted, eyes glassy. “I need you. Please-”

Harley cursed as he took his fingers out. He kind of wanted to laugh at how the skin had gone all wrinkly from how wet Peter was, but there were more pressing things he had to focus on. Harley shoved off his own pants with vigour, and tore off his boxers. Peter keened as soon as Harley pressed the tip of his dick against his hole.

“You sure you want this, babydoll?” Harley asked, wanting the last bit of consent before he went inside.

Peter growled. It was so cute. Then he said, “Harley if you don’t fuck me right now I swear to God-” Harley couldn’t even help the wide grin that washed over his face as he leaned down to smother Peter’s face with kisses.

“There’s my baby,” He quipped quietly, “There’s my angel.” As much as he loved cock-hungry Peter, sassy Peter was his ultimate favorite.

Without further ado he gave Peter what he wanted and started inching his dick inside of him. At first, his tip caught on Peter’s rim, and Peter started jerking his hips, clearly trying to urge him inside faster. It made the task a lot harder for Harley though so he had to hold him down with his arm splayed over his hips. Once Peter stilled Harley was able to sink inside, slowly, but surely. “Oh fuck,” Harley puffed out once he was fully inside. “Baby, you’re so tight.”

Peter scrambled and grabbed onto Harley’s shoulders with ferocity. He rocked his hips against him. Peter had never felt this desperate, but he could feel his inner-Omega purring with satisfaction over his Alpha entering him, though, it wasn’t enough. “Move, please, Harley. Move, move I-” He whined. As much as he loved how gentle Harley was being he needed to feel him in his throat.

Harley obliged, and drew his hips back to begin thrusting. At first, he created a slow pace, that let Peter be filled before he drew himself out and canted back in. Peter moaned at the feeling of Harley’s cock slipping in and out of him. Harley’s cock made a wet sound as he entered and exited Peter, from all the slick.

“You feel so good,” Peter slurred, moving against him. “Want you to knot me.”

Harley let out a moan of his own at Peter’s words and started picking up his pace. He thrusted faster, and faster, until he was pounding into Peter who was keening on every thrust, letting out these breathy ‘ah ah ah’ that drove Harley absolutely crazy. Harley’s cock kept sliding, in and out, and in and out, as Peter twisted back onto him.

It didn’t take much longer for Harley to feel his knot forming at the base of cock. He braced himself onto his elbows, on either side of Peter, whose eyes were squeezed shut as his hair spread out around his head like a halo. He was gorgeous. Harley had to tell him, because he had to know.

“So beautiful,” He grunted as he breathed in Peter’s sweet scent. He smelled like vanilla, and honey, and something else warm, like sunshine. Only Peter Parker could smell like sunshine. “So gorgeous. You’re perfect. You’re taking me so well.”

Peter moaned, high and needy, before his eyes flew open. He reared Harley in for a kiss right when Harley’s knot caught and locked him inside. The noise that Peter let out against Harley’s mouth Harley would keep tucked away in his brain forever. He was ethereal.

Peter came with a sob as soon as Harley’s knot latched, and he bit down on Harley’s scent gland with surprisingly sharp teeth. Harley’s hips jolted as he grinded inside Peter, fully seated within him. His little movements caused him to ram repeatedly over his oversensitive prostate, and when Harley bit down on Peter’s own scent gland in retaliation the boy jerked and gasped his way through a second orgasm.

Harley was right on edge, but he made sure that Peter was okay before he kept going. Peter was a drooling mess, his eyes unfocused as he mewled at being impaled on Harley’s knot. Harley was careful not to abuse his prostate too much as he continued his miniscule grinds. When Peter let out a dreamy sigh that got caught on a high-pitched whine that’s what did it for Harley, he came inside of him with a startling amount of force. His orgasm seemed to be torn out of him as he shook and groaned in Peter’s ear, before he bit down on the sensitive skin of his shoulder.

Once he came back to himself, he tried to take stock of Peter, who was panting beneath him. He supported himself up on one elbow, as to not crush Peter with his weight, and used his free hand to caress over his face and wipe at the few tears that had leaked out. “Baby?” Harley asked hesitantly, his voice a little hoarse. “How you feelin’?”

Peter kissed his thumb a little deliriously as soon as it got close to his mouth, which made Harley smile. “Feels good,” Peter mumbled, still clearly out of it. Harley decided that was a good enough answer for then. He would double check once Peter was a little more coherent, before the next wave hit. They should have another two hours at least before Peter would be ready to go again, if Harley got his math right (which, he always did.)

Harley rolled them, as docilely as he could, so that they were in a more comfortable position while he remained inside him. He got Peter on his side and spooned up behind him, allowing him to cover Peter completely. Peter hummed happily at the position and reached up behind him with his one arm to rest at the back of Harley’s head, and tangle in his hair.

“Thank you.” Peter said sleepily after several minutes had passed. “Normally it feels bad, but this time it felt good.”

Harley just kissed him, over and over again, wherever he could, over any skin that was open to him. Peter Parker should never have a bad day in his life, not if he was there and could help it. He had never taken much value in all those stereotypes that had told him as an Alpha he would want to take care of his partner, he would want to provide for them, and protect them at all costs. Now that he had Peter, happy and sated in his arms, he got it. He totally understood. He would move heaven and earth just to see his smile, the one that made his eyes crinkle.

“Want you to always feel good.” Harley said, because he didn’t know what else to say. A million other words got caught in his throat, words that were too heavy for just yet, but he still felt them, and knew that he would continue to feel them.

“We’re gonna do that again in like,” Peter’s sentence was cut off by a yawn. “An hour? But I’m gonna ride you, ‘mkay?”

Harley grinned as he nuzzled against Peter’s shoulder blade. He couldn’t think of anything else he wanted in the world. “Go to sleep, darlin’, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Peter only hummed, then said sweetly, his voice low and quiet, and just for Harley. “You better be. Because I’m your baby, remember?”

Harley kissed his cheek, narrowly avoiding getting a mouthful of Peter’s curls. “Yup, you’re my baby.”