Hey! Sorry it’s late, I was busy with some other stuff. I went for the PH^2 ship. It’s on ao3 here, or underneath the read more.
I’ve also written a small drabble about this for just parksborn before, so if you want to see it, go here.
Peter hadn’t meant to go out as Spider-Man that day. He just wanted to come home and get ready to go out to dinner with his boyfriends for their anniversary. But then he heard an alarm go off, and he practically ran into the armed robbery as a civilian, and wouldn’t it be much better to be there as Spidey anyway? So really he was trying to be safe, it’s just that the world had decided he needed to do this first.
The fight was decently quick, regardless of how outnumbered he was. There were 6 robbers, all of them shooting at him, but he had managed to web them all up for the police.
As he swung the rest of the way through the city, he glanced down at his watch. He still had plenty of time to get ready before they all headed out for dinner. There was a dull pain on his side and his shoulder blade, but he waved it off, assuming it was bruises from the fight or sore muscles. They would heal soon enough.
He slipped through the window of the apartment and into the bedroom, hoping neither Harry nor Harley were home yet. Both of them said they were going to be working a little late, but would still be home in time to go out. Maybe he could get ready without either of them knowing he put on the suit that day.
He rushed into the bathroom, stripping out of his suit without so much as a glance at it. His back was still feeling really weird, and even more painful than before. Still, it wasn’t anything he hadn’t faced before, and he was working on a strict time limit. He grabbed a suit from the closet and a tie, setting them down on the bathroom counter.
From the main room, he could hear a gentle click as the door was unlocked. “Pete?” Harry’s voice called out to him.
He quickly shoved the suit into a cabinet and out of sight. “In the bathroom, I’m getting ready.”
“Have you taken a shower yet?” Harry’s voice yelled back, a playful tease.
“No I have not.” Peter turned, his bare back to the open door as he fiddled with the temperature.
“Well then maybe I’ll join you.” His voice got louder as he walked into their bedroom, his tie hanging loose around his neck. Suddenly Harry froze in his tracks. “Peter!” His voice sounded strangled.
Peter turned to face the blond boy, confusion growing as he noticed Harry’s shocked expression. “What’s wrong?”
“Did you go out as Spidey today?” Harry accused him.
Peter quickly glanced around, making sure the suit was still packed away. “No?”
Harry took a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Then do you want to explain the bleeding wound on your back?”
“What?” Peter turned around, trying to glance at his back in the mirror. Sure enough, there was a bright red gash on his shoulder blade. “Oh.” The burning pain suddenly made a lot more sense. Apparently that was the moment his brain decided to process the wound, because he immediately began to feel light-headed. The hero gripped tightly onto the counter, trying not to fall.
“Peter!” Harry ran over, helping him up. “What did you do?”
Peter gave him a sheepish look. “I was going to come straight back home but then I literally walked right by a robbery, and I couldn’t not do anything.”
Harry just shook his head, helping Peter over to the bed. Of course, this was the exact moment Harley decided to walk into the house. “Hello? Where are y’all?”
Harry sighed. “In the bedroom, bring the first aid kit.”
“What did he do now?” Harley responded in a resigned tone.
Peter’s mouth dropped open. He tried to sound affronted but it ended up sounding tired instead. “What makes you think I did anything?”
“Well it’s not like pretty boy gets injured on a regular basis.” Harley grinned, walking into the bedroom with the kit. He frowned, before quickly fixing his face back into an easy-going expression. “I thought you were going to skip the heroics for today?”
“I meant to, but, you know… I promise I’m fine.” Peter tried to protest, but even as he spoke, his eyes began to close.
Harley raised an eyebrow at the statement. He walked into the bathroom. “Where did you shove your suit this time?”
“Could you wet a cloth and give it to me?” Harry called out, as he began to pull the bandages and antiseptic from the kit.
Harley hummed in agreement as he walked out of the bathroom, the bloody suit in his hands. “What happened?”
“Looks like a bullet grazed him.” He took the cloth from Harley’s hand, pressing it to Peter’s skit and cleaning out the small wound. “It’s pretty small, only needs a few stitches. But from the looks of it, he lost enough blood to be light headed.”
Harley sat down on the bed next to Harry, grabbing a fresh cloth and the antiseptic Harry had set aside, moving in to clean the wound after Harry pulled his hand away. Peter winced. “I’m sorry.”
Harley snorted. “For what? Going out in the first place or for getting hurt?”
“For ruining our dinner plans.” He looked down at his hands, trying not to shake as Harley finished cleaning the gash.
Harry shrugged. “It’s no big deal. We can go out anytime. I’d rather you be safe and rest.”
“But it’s our anniversary."
Harley shifted on the bed, moving to face Peter. He grabbed Peter’s hands and looked the other boy in the eyes. "And as long as all of us are together, we’re basically already celebrating.”
Harry pulled out the needle and thread from the kit. “I think the celebration starts after I finish putting stitches on my boyfriend. As a child, I really did not see myself knowing how to stitch, but apparently I’m good at this now. And it’s all your fault.”
Peter chuckled. “I take full responsibility for that.”
Harley continued to hold Peter’s hands as Harry finished the stitches and bandaged Peter. “Just, please try to be more careful.”
Peter grinned. “I always am.”
“I know.” Harley took a deep breath. “But as much as we joke about how often this happens, me and Harry get worried every time you get hurt, and if you keep going like this, we’re afraid that one day you’ll come home with something we can’t fix with a first aid kit and some kisses.”
Peter’s smile faded at the more somber comment. He tried to look back at Harry, but couldn’t, so he settled for reaching out a hand for the other boy to grab, squeezing onto it as he cleaned up the kit with his free hand. “I promise I’ll try harder.”
“That’s all we could ask for.” Harry got up, the kit in his hand, and pressed a kiss to Peter’s cheek. “Now that I’m done, we can celebrate.” He walked into the living room and put away the first aid kit.
Harley got up, offering a hand to Peter, who allowed the other boy to lift him back onto his feel. “What do you have in mind?”
Harry smiled. “How about pizza and brownies?”
“Sounds great.” Peter smiled, watching the two boys as they both got settled and ordered everything.
A few minutes later, the three of them were sitting around the dinner table, laughing and talking. Peter looked at the boys sitting beside him, amazed that he had gotten so lucky as to have them. And later that night, with the three of them curled up in bed together, Peter just whispered, “Happy Anniversary. Love you.”