put your head on my shoulder
-Paul Anka

Peter and Harley had known each other since Harley's family moved to Queens, back when both boys were ten years old. They lived across the street from each other, so they often played together and wreaked havoc on the neighborhood. Everyone who saw them wondered why they were so close when they were so different; Peter was sweet and sensitive while Harley was tough and snarky. They would often tell Peter to stop "hanging out with that Keener rascal. He's gonna get you in trouble one day." But Peter never listened. They didn't know Harley like he did. In return, they would tell Harley to stop being a bad influence. To which he would reply, "stop watching me then we won't have a problem."

Harley was always a "tough love" kind of guy. Emotions truly made him uncomfortable. He thought displaying his feelings made him seem weak and vulnerable. Even with Peter, he wouldn't get too soft-- no matter how much the other boy reminded him of a puppy. He loved him to no ends but he very rarely showed it. It bothered him that Peter was too sweet for his own good, always trying to hug Harley and kiss him on the cheek. It was disgusting.

At least, that's what Harley led to believe. He had a reputation to uphold (the one that made him appear soulless). But both he and Peter knew that deep down, he couldn't live without Peter's sweetness.

It was kind of funny now that they were older. Whenever Peter would try to do or say anything remotely affectionate, like cuddle him or even put his head on his shoulder, Harley would complain and push him away. Whenever Peter would grab his hand before crossing a street, Harley would roll his eyes and let go as soon as they had crossed safely. He knew that Peter's feelings were never hurt— he made absolutely sure of that, actually. That's the last thing he wanted. Thankfully, the younger would always laugh it off and push Harley back or whine until his affections were returned, even if they were in the lamest way possible.

God forbid anyone else try to play this little game with Harley, though. This act was for him and Peter only, and if anyone else even breathed in Harley's direction, they would probably get beaten to a pulp.

In truth, Harley always looked forward to when Peter got a little to close. He craved the warmth of his partner in crime after years spent together. He loved Peter, more than platonically, and he had for a long time. But Harley wasn't good with feelings, so the times of day when he physically pushed Peter away were the only ones where he could touch him without self combusting.

It was nearing Valentine's day when one morning Peter skipped out of his apartment building, where Harley had been waiting for him so that they could walk to school; a typical morning with their typical routine. Except, Peter seemed more happy than usual, which was already beginning to annoy Harley because, really, who is that chirpy at seven am?

"Geez, Parker, you'd think someone superglued bricks to your feet. Why'd you take so damn long?"

Peter rolled his eyes and, as usual, wrapped his arms around Harley's waist and laid his head on his chest in a one-sided hug. Harley always wondered if the brunette could hear his heart beat faster every time he did that. Peter pulled away before Harley could tell him to get off, "Good morning to you too, Grumpy."

Harley huffed and began walking, "'Course I'm grumpy. Who ain't grumpy at this ungodly hour?"

"I'm not," Peter smiled, snaking his arm around Harley's, which was the one thing the other boy actually let him do ever since they'd gotten separated at a concert once. It comforted both of them. "You wanna know why?"

"You're gonna tell me even if I say no. So, please, do enlighten me."

"I think Emery Gray is gonna ask me to be his Valentine! Can you believe it?"

Harley stopped in his tracks, accidentally yanking Peter back with him. "Easy E.G. is asking you to be his Valentine." Harley responded flatly, more so stating it than asking a question.

Peter rolled his eyes again, "No one calls him that."

"I call him that. 'Cause he's a man-whore."

"Harley!" Peter scolded, chuckling just a little bit, "He is not!"

"Oh, please, you know it's true."

"You know it's not!" Peter chuckled a little more and began walking again, "Sure, he's had his fair share of relationships, but he's not a bad person. He's really sweet, actually. And smart."

Harley stayed quiet. He knew it was true. The guy could be easy as hell, but he didn't mean any harm. He never mistreated any of his partners— no one had anything bad to say about him. Emery was popular, handsome, and rich, but he was also polite and a genuine good guy.

Fuck, Harley suddenly hated him. Why was he interested in Peter of all people? They'd never even talked.

"You ever even talk to him?"

"Yeah, we partners in chemistry last semester." Peter smiled brightly, and Harley wished that he would smile like that for him instead, "He's really cute."

What was Harley going to do? If Emery asked Peter to be his boyfriend, everything would be over. No more doing everything together; no more walking to school or cuddling during movie night. No more cheek kisses or hand holding or hugs from his favorite person in the world.

"I guess." Harley muttered, looking down at his feet.

Peter, of course, picked up on the change of tone. He cleared his throat and tightened his arm around Harley's slightly, "I, uh, I think I'm gonna say no, though."

Harley furrowed his brows and looked back up toward Peter, "How come?"

"I was kinda hoping someone else would ask me..." Peter trailed off, blushing slightly. Harley's heart rate picked up significantly,

"Who?"

"A certain southern blonde," Peter's blush deepened, "He's kind of my neighbor. I've known him for like seven years. I don't know if he likes me like that, though. He's constantly pushing me away."

Harley stopped again, gaping at Peter like a fish out of water, "P-Pete—"

"It's okay if he doesn't, though. We could just stay friends and spend Valentine's eating a shit ton of candy, like always. I'm okay with that... I just really hope I don't lose him after saying all of this."

Harley screwed his eyes shut and pulled his arm away from Peter's, "Fuck, Pete— What the fuck, man." He was breathing irregularly, trying to process what Peter was saying. He likes me? But why? How? Fuck— has he always liked me? Does he know I like him and he's just trying to take pity on me? What is happening? "This can't be possible. You're fucking with me, right?" He opened his eyes and immediately regretted doing so. Peter's were filled with tears, and he had wrapped his arms around his own waist, as if giving himself a comforting hug. All traces of his joyful mood had completely vanished. Suddenly the sky seemed a whole lot darker.

"I'm sorry, Harls." he whispered, drops beginning to slowly roll down his cheeks, "I-I tried to stop, I really did- but I- fuck. I'm s-so sorry." Peter hiccuped as he panicked. Harley was still frozen in his place, just watching Peter come apart. "I really d-don't want to lose y-you—"

That seemed to snap Harley out of his trance, "N-no! Peter, god, I-fuck- I..." he took a deep breath, looking straight into Peter's caramel eyes. This was it. No more hiding his true feelings. "I l-like you too." He exhaled sharply, wiping his shaking hands on his jeans.

"W-what?" Peter stuttered, blinking at him owlishly. "You really like me back?"

"I'm gonna be sick." Harley muttered, bending over to place his hands on his knees, "Peter I... I've always liked you... shit. I can't believe I actually said that out loud."

"So... you made me cry for nothing?!" Peter shrieked, quickly wiping his cheeks, "What the hell, Harley! I thought you were disgusted by me when you pulled away like that!"

"Fuck, I'm sorry. I just- I can't believe you have actual feelings for me!"

"Well of course, you moron! Who else takes care of me the way you do? Or looks at me like that?"

"N-no one. I love you too much." Harley replied weakly, looking up at Peter, who was already staring at him in worry, "Sorry, I'm not used to talking about my feelings."

"Oh, Harls... maybe I shouldn't have done this so early in the morning."

"You think?! Jesus, Pete, I haven't even finished digesting my breakfast yet! And you think it's fine to give me a heart attack!"

"In my defense, I wasn't expecting you to react like that."

Haley stood up straight and held out a shaky hand, "Can you just hold me, please?"

Peter smiled and the sun shone bright again. He grabbed Harley's hand and pulled him in for a hug, wrapping his arms around his waist again, just a little tighter than before. Harley wrapped his own around Peter's shoulders, burying his cheek against soft, brown curls.

"You're hugging me back. It's not even close to my birthday."

Harley smiled softly, "Don't get used to it. Just because I like you and you like me doesn't mean I'll be okay with PDA all of the sudden."

"But does it mean you're gonna be my valentine?"

"Only if you'll be mine. And if you reject E.G. and tell him you have a boyfriend who will kick his ass if he tries anything."

Peter giggled, "Deal... Boyfriend."

"Please don't start calling me that," Harley breathed out, feeling his whole face go hot at the endearment. They held each other for a couple more minutes before Harley started getting uncomfortable, "O-okay, get off, please." Peter immediately pulled away, still smiling brightly, even brighter than when he was walking about Emory Gray, and butterflies went wild in Harley's stomach. "Sorry," He apologized, "I'll work on that."

Peter shook his head, "I know you've always exaggerated about me touching you, but I also know it actually makes you uncomfortable to a certain extent. So you just let me know when it gets too much, okay? I won't be offended."

"It's not about you touching me, Pete, I ain't a germaphobe. I like you touching me. It's just... in public it makes me feel a little weird. Trust me, when we're alone you can touch and kiss me all you want," Harley blushed again, avoiding Peter's gaze.

The shorter boy blushed too. "O-okay. Um... can I give you a quick little peck right now?"

"F-fine. But don't make a habit of it." He complained weakly, basking in the tingling feeling when Peter delivered a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. He'd gotten kisses on the cheek before but this particular kiss felt a whole lot more special. Both boys shared a small smile before deciding that continuing their trip to school was a good idea.

And if Harley let Peter hold his hand the whole way there, no one else had to know but them.