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[Camera opens to Peter Parker-Stark, 18, filming selfie style next to his dad, Tony Stark, 43, who is reading and seems to be unconcerned with Peter’s filming. Peter has a shit-eating grin on his face. 

“Hey, dad?” Peter’s grin gets wider. 

Tony makes a ‘hmm?’ noise, and turns the page, clearly not fully paying attention. 

“Remember how you told me not to audition for the role of Spider-Man?”

Tony pauses, looks up at his son with a raised brow and dry look. “Yeah?”

“How mad would you be if I didn’t listen?” Peter’s grin gets even wider. “And how mad would you be if I told you I got the part?”

The camera flips and zooms in on Tony’s face, slowly and steadily, as he processes the words. It freeze frames on that, and text reading ‘we’ll be right back’ appears in comic sans. The video cuts to seconds later of Tony ranting at his son in italian and Peter laughing, before finally cutting off completely after a whole thirty seconds of this.]

Peter Stark {✓} @P.Stark

So excited to be joining my dad and the rest of the @avengers on their newest project Captain America: Civil War as Spider-Man! 

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The thing is, Tony can handle his son being an actor. It’s not his favorite profession in the world, but he’s not hypocritical enough to tell Peter not to be an actor when he himself is one of the most famous actors on the planet. He loves acting- truly, he does. There's something about tucking away his emotions and getting into his characters that makes it easier to breathe, he finds. But the other thing is…as much as he adores his acting jobs, everyone really does focus on that aspect of his personality, not his five PHD’s and his co-ownership of the multi millionaire company Potts Industries with his ex-fiance, turned best friend in the entire world. 

Everyone in the show biz overlooks that he, Tony Stark, has an IQ of 280, is the leading head of prosthetic designs, and clean energy. He’d like to think he’s a Hedy Lammar story, where once he dies everyone will look at his life and go, “Wow! That Tony Stark sure did a lot to help the world and wasn’t just a pretty face!” but he knows the world too well for that. 

And he couldn’t help the sinking feeling that came when he realized Peter- his brilliant son, who wanted to study biochem and was almost as smart as him and fanboyed over his favorite genetic mutations- wanted to be an actor. He’d never get recognized for all the good he could bring to the scientific community and that…really upset Tony. He just wanted his son to be recognized- he no longer cared what people thought of him, but he did care what people thought of his son. 

When Peter had gotten his first acting role at age thirteen, Tony had tried hard to make peace with it. Luckily, the indie film didn’t make it that far after it was released and he felt like he could breathe again. These past few years he tried to keep his son out of the spotlight but still in it by helping him find small projects- indie films, non big-budget, box office films that weren’t produced by a large company. His son had been so confused on why he didn’t want Peter working on Marvel and that was why. 

Nothing he can do now though, that Peter is here on set, the day of their first shooting. 

“Kiddo.” Tony placed a firm hand on his shoulder, his son practically buzzing with joy. “You’ve been on sets like this millions of times. You’re always on my movie sets. It's not so different- so calm down.”

Peter shrugged off his hand and gave him a look, trying to seem upset at the words but even his acting skills couldn’t conceal the joy in his face. “Not so different? Dad! Come on this is my first really big movie! And I get to work with you, and Steve, and everyone? It’s amazing!”

“You’ve said that maybe six times now.” Tony tried not to let the fondness creep into his voice, “Seriously, bud, you got any other things to say?”

“Nope, I’m never gonna say anything other than ‘it’s amazing’ ever again.” Stepping forward, Peter pressed his shoulders back and stood up to his full height, making it obvious he was in serious professional actor mode, and also that he was finally taller than his dad. “But seriously- I’m really honored to be working on this movie, dad, in this franchise. You know how much I love the franchise and well…I’m glad I’ll be able to bring my part to it.”

Tony squeezed his son’s arm gently, “I know. I’m proud of you too- Spider-Man’s a taxing role. I don’t like that you’re doing your own stunts- but Steve and everyone else does theirs, so I guess I can’t complain too bad. Just- remember kiddo, this won’t be like a lot of the movies you’ve worked on before. Okay?”

“How so?”

“Well, for starters?” Tony found himself smiling despite himself. “Higher budget. For seconds? Larger audiences. I just want you to remember all of that going forward, allright?”

“Of course I’ll remember it,” Peter huffed, and Tony could practically hear the thoughts flowing through his head; ‘I’m not a kid anymore, dad!’ ‘I know what I’m doing!’, “I’m not a kid anymore, dad, I know what I’m doing.”

Fighting back a laugh, he just smiled wider. “You’re my kid, Pete. And you can never escape that.” 

“You’re so cheesy,” Peter groaned like a child, emphasizing his point, “You’re so old and cheesy and annoying. I’m not gonna be that old and cheesy and annoying one day, am I?”

“Oh, trust me kiddo, knowing you, when you have a kid of your own, you’ll be worse. ”

“I hate you.”

“Mhmm, Love you too,” Tony glanced towards the trailers, and paused. 

Barnes was back on set again. 

Despite it being Peter's first real day of filming, they’d already completed a good chunk of the scenes in the movie, opting to wait until Peter was truly eighteen to start filming the Spider-Man parts, at Tony’s request. If Peter was gonna be working with a big brand company like Marvel, he wanted his son to be able to reap all the benefits that came with it as an adult, since the minor contracts were different from the adult ones. He’d been filming a majority of the scene’s for a few months. 

And Barnes was back on set. Which- of course he was back on set, he was Steve’s personal assistant, and the two half-brothers never went anywhere without each other but still. Barnes was on set, and he was wearing a tank top because of course he was, it was August, and his prosthetic that Tony designed was gleaming in the light, and all of his muscles were flexing and dear God, he was pathetic. 

It wasn’t like he meant to be staring either, but Barnes was just so handsome as he leaned up against Steve’s trailer, flipping over some documents- probably about the Avengers Initiative that the marketing execs had come up with- that he really couldn’t help himself. James Buccanon Barnes was not voted the sexiest man alive like his half-brother, but God dammit he should have been. 

“-ad?” Peter snapped in front of his face. “Earth to dad? Come in, dad? Can you hear me? Is your brain working?”

“Huh?” He jerked, tearing his eyes away from Barnes's figure. “What is it, kid?”

“Are you-” His son blinked at him, eyes narrowing. “Dad are you blushing?”

“What? No!”

“Oh my God.” Peter shoved his shoulder lightly. “Here I am asking which trailer is mine, and you’re over there being gross and making eyes at Bucky!”

Quickly, Tony clamped a hand over his son's mouth and glared at him. “Say it louder, why don’t you?”

Peter licked his hand, and he pulled away in disgust, but really, he should have known better than to challenge his son by saying the dreaded phrase, because Peter pulled away from them entirely and made a b-line to Barnes. 

“Bucky!” 

“Hmm?” Bucky looked up, smiling crookedly. “Peter, hey kid! Nice to see you on set finally.” 

Following along slowly, Tony cleared his throat, trying to fight down a blush at the way Barnes’s lips quirked. “Hey.”

“Hey, Tony.” The warmth in Barnes's tone made his heart speed up like he was still a fifteen-year-old kid in college, flirting with older girls. “So the father-son duo’s finally on set?”

“Oh yeah!” Peter’s eyes lit up, but Tony knew his son better than anyone and knew that Peter was about to be a menace. “I’m really excited to be working on set alongside you guys. You know- we never see you around when Steve comes over, why is that?”

Grounded. Peter was grounded. Because his son was so clearly trying to get Barnes to come over so Tony would be forced to interact with him off set and make a fool of himself by being a host who couldn’t maintain conversation with Barnes because fucking hell- 

He would admit to having his flirting skills be rusty since he had Peter. He hadn’t been seeing anyone beyond Richard and Mary, and when they died, his entire life became Peter and he hadn’t had time for dating. Now that he did have time, it was hard because the only guy he was attracted to was Barnes. 

Which double sucked because not only was Barnes his co-worker’s personal assistant, he was also probably never going to be interested in him. For only forty three, he felt he looked really good, but Barnes was barely thirty six, and he was everyone's wet dream. Whatever genes that were in his and Steve’s father must have really did a number on the Earth because holy fuck was Barnes hot. Barnes, with his military training, and his extensive workout routine that Steve used, and his metal arm that Tony built custom for him, was all just so so much. 

Barnes was so much. It also helped that Barnes was kind, and friendly, and had these piercing blue eyes and- look, Barnes just hit every single box he’s ever liked and that wasn’t really fair. Barnes was out of his league and most likely not interested and he needed to learn to be fine with that and not have his fucking kid try to set him up. 

“Oh.” Those piercing blue eyes flicked to Tony, then back to Peter. “At that point when you all are having get-togethers, I’m usually taking care of Steve’s charity work, paper work, and stuff. I hate taking advantage of the guy-”

“-You’re not taking advantage of me.” Steve poked his head out of the trailer. “We’ve talked about this, Buck. You were always really good at organizing my shit-”

“Uh, uh, Steve,” Tony interrupted, dramatically placing his hands over his son's ears, “No cursing. There’s a baby.”

“Dad,” his son whined like a three year old, “I’m not a kid! Shit isn’t even the worst word I’ve ever heard.”

“Well now I’ve gotta wash your mouth out with soap.”

“I agree with your father, Peter,” Steve chuckled, slipping out fully and slinking an arm over his brother’s shoulder, “You turned 18 maybe three days ago-”

“-I turned eighteen a week ago!-”

“-You’re just not old enough to be cursing.” The blond tsked, a smile etched in his face. 

Peter scowled, eyes narrowing, but Tony interrupted him before he could say anything else, “Thank you, Stevie! See, Steven agrees with me, and he’s Captain America, buddy. You really gonna argue with Captain America?”

That drew a laugh from everyone around them, as Steve’s ears went red. “You know, we’re not actually the characters we play, Tony.”

“Aren’t we?”

“He’s got a point.” Barnes flashed one of those fucking crooked grins at him, effectively making his heart jump into his throat. “You are known as America’s Golden Boy.” 

“You know what.” Steve looked at Peter then pointed at Bucky. “Tell him to fuck off, because hes a bitch.”

Peter didn’t even hesitate, despite Tony’s noise of protest because Barnes was not a bitch, and Peter shouldn’t be talking like that in the first place. “Fuck off, you’re a bitch.”

“And children never lie.” Bucky made an offended noise, but Steve shushed him again. “No, don’t protest. Children are the best judge of character.”

“I don’t think that applies to you corrupting my son and coaching him to insult Barnes.” Tony rolled his eyes and hummed. “Either way, boys, unlike you two absolute fools, me and Peter have to go to the makeup trailer. We’re shooting his first scene today.”

“The recruitment one?”

“Mhm.”

“You know, I still don’t understand why Iron Man and Cap are fighting.” Steve hummed, brow furrowing. “I tried to ask the director, but he just shrugged it off. But why couldn’t they just come to an agreement or something?”

“No idea-”

“Well you see, Steve,” Peter interrupted, extensive comic book knowledge jumping out at the opportunity to talk about it, “Your characters are fighting about the Accords, which are regulations put on superheroes and mutants in order for them to be controlled by the government. Of course, some in the fandom have their own version where they update the accords to both take accountability and have protections from superheroes, but generally they’re this really bad idea in an attempt to control the mutants-”

Steve just blinked slowly, “Right but that's not what breaks the Avengers?”

“What?”

“Peter, didn’t you read the script?” He raised a brow at his son, “They split because the Winter Soldier- you remember Sam right?- is framed for killing a king, and then Iron Man finds out Cap was hiding the fact that the Winter Soldier killed his parents from him and they beat him up and leave him in a HYDRA base for dead.” 

Apparently Peter had not read through the entire script, because he was staring at him with wide eyes, “That's so out of character! What?! Didn’t Cap find out about that two movies ago?! And he- wow- what?”

Tony just clapped his sons shoulder, waving goodbye to Barnes and Steve as he guided his son- still ranting about improper characterization- towards the makeup carts. He thought he could feel the soft blues of Barnes’s eyes on him, but that had to just be his imagination.  

[A still image of Peter Stark looking very seriously at a director, dressed in the very iconic Spider-Man suit. He looks very professional and serious, ready to take his job very seriously and do what he can to bring justice to the role. 

The second picture is of Peter and Bucky, wheezing with laughter clearly after some sort of lunch meal, because Steve is in the background covered in chocolate, clearly from one of them having thrown it. Absolute chaos is going on around them and Peter looks like an idiot.]

Tony Stark {✓} @youknowwhoiam

Ah yes, my son is so very professional. Either way; congrats on your first day on set, bud. I hope there are many more to come.

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“Come on!” Peter whined, pointing dramatically at his dad. “You’re playing this story up! I wasn’t that bad as a kid!”

“Oh, you definitely were.” The memories of Peter’s childhood were always one of his favorites to talk about to anyone, even those who had heard the story fifty-thousand times like Steve. He grinned at his friend. “He really was.”

Steve grinned back, holding his hands up. “I don’t doubt it at all.”

“Oh come on! I’m a little angel!”

“You’ve thrown food on me every day for the past two weeks on set, Pete.” Steve’s dry tone made Tony wanna crack up, but he held back his laughter. “I don’t think thats ‘little angel’ material.”

“I have to agree with Steve, here, bud.” His son pouted harder. “You may have been very cute and sweet as a kid, but you knew how to be a devil when you wanted. You used to yell at any director who was bossing me around on set if we brought you because you said they couldn’t talk to me like that. I had to stop bringing you to my movies because of that.”

“I was right,” Peter huffed, pout somehow getting poutier, “No one should boss you around! They should ask you to do things respectfully and politely.”

“Mhm, in theory,” Steve commented dryly, taking a bite of his burger, “but in practice?”

“Rarely happens.”

“I think our directors are nice to you, both of you!” 

“Well, I’m the money maker.” Tony motioned to himself. “My Iron Man trilogy literally saved the studio. I’m valuable- they can't risk me wanting to break contract. And Steve’s the prettiest face they have.”

“Hey!” the other actor protested, finishing up his meal. “I’m more than just a pretty face!”

Peter rolled his eyes, standing up to clear his plate. “Sure, sure.”

“Take mine too, will you?” Tony handed his plate to Peter, then hummed, “You going out with Harry tonight?”

“Mhm. He’s been looking for some new inspirations for his next fashion line, so I’ll go with him across the city and take photos and junk. That okay with you?”

“Yeah, just be home before one.”

Peter just nodded, before heading out of the kitchen. He’d make it home by twelve-thirty because that was the kind of kid Peter was, and it made Tony happy that he was so responsible, at points. Of course, Peter was a dumbass kid in others, but overwhelmingly he was fairly responsible and kind. 

“So,” Steve drawled after a second, raising a brow, “we drinking and playing cards or what?”

Blinking, Tony turned back, and then rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Go Fish or Blackjack?”

“What do you take me for, a fool? Go Fish.”

Laughing, he stood to go get their drinks and card deck. After the first movie they starred in together, The Avengers, the two of them had a routine. Every few Friday nights they’d get together for dinner- oftentimes with the other cast, but sometimes just them- and play cards together, drinking hot chocolate. It became an easy going tradition that they often kept up even when not working on each other's movies. 

The two of them were real friends, they found. They just kind of clicked together, finding it easy to banter back and forth off each other. Their easy-going chemistry made the set fun and the long hours of retake after retake after retake a little easier to swallow. 

Setting down a mug of spiked hot chocolate in front of Steve, he took a sip of his own normal one. “So what do you think of The Avengers Initiative Program the execs are throwing at us?”

“Well.” Steve’s eyes stayed on his cards, shuffling them as he thought. “I don’t think it's right that they want us to volunteer, just for publicity. But I do think that volunteering is a really good way to go, especially for those kids in the hospital. I wanna be able to bring some light to their lives, but I hate that everyones using it as a marketing ploy.”

“I agree completely.” Tony took another sip of his drink. “I just don’t think we need to be getting paid for a job that you and I and the rest of our castmates would willingly do anyway.”

“It feels wrong.”

“I know, but what can we do beyond being there to support the kids.” He accepted his hand, and frowned when he had absolutely no pairs. “I’m already thinking that my entire paycheck from those events are just gonna be donated right back to the hospital, so…yeah. Just doing what I can to not be a scumbag, I guess.”

Steve hummed, thumbing over his cards. “Got any fives? And I know the feeling- I think we should try to take it into our own hands, you know? I know they’re only planning for us to volunteer at a few locations and only when they start dropping trailers, but…I’m thinking I’ll try to get Bucky to schedule it in as a weekly part of my routines. Volunteering for the Initiative, that is.”

“Look at you, being a real hero.” Tony shook his head. “No fives. But I may just join you in your planning for that. Got any sixes?”

“Bastard,” Steve muttered, handing over a six after picking up another card. “You should run it by Buck, too. He’s really good at this kind of thing, you know?”

“What, planning?”

“And organizing, and taking care of others, and keeping schedule.” Steve said the words all so casually, like the image of Barnes taking care of him didn’t send a thrill of pleasure up Tony’s spine. “I don't know, man. You’ve just been kinda disorganized these days.”

“Me? Disorganized?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Tony took a sip of his mug and frowned sharply. “I don’t think I’m disorganized at all. Why do you think that?”

“It's just.” Steve hesitated, placing down his cards. “Look, don’t get mad at me, but ever since Peter’s been a little more independent, you seem slightly lost, man. I know he’s your kid, and you’ve spent your life loving and caring about him, but the more he grows up, the more I think you don’t know what to do with your own self.” 

Wow. Okay. Tony wasn’t expecting that. Literally, Steve could have punched him in the lungs and stolen his breath and it would’ve had the same effect on him. Because…holy shit.   

It wasn’t like Steve was wrong. 

But it just- wow. 

“And I know that that’s probably a little too blunt and a little too harsh but.” Steve hesitated again, “Just…when was the last time you did something just for yourself? When you didn’t make your life about your son and his needs and wants- which I’m not saying is a bad thing! Peter’s a really happy kid, and it's clear that he adores you. You’re an amazing father to him, but…have you even dated anyone since he was born?”

“That’s not- I just-”

“And it's not like you haven't had the opportunity,” his friend pressed on, “there's been plenty of people who flirt with you and are interested. I just- I’m worried about you, okay? Peter’s eighteen, and it won’t be long now till he’s off to college or going on his own adventures and I kinda don't want you here all alone in this big mansion by yourself. It’s just…you deserve to be loved, Tony.”

“I just.” Shame welled in his throat. “Steve it’s not that simple. Peter- that kid- he’s my entire life. He’s been my entire life since Mary Parker called me and told me she was pregnant and that there was a chance he was mine. And then- when Richard and Mary told me that they didn’t care if the baby was mine or his, they wanted me to be a part of our son's life, it just- it made me happy. What we had was never romantic, but they were my best friends and I was happy to be allowed into their bedroom and their lives. Then Peter was born and Mary and Richard passed away, and he was just- he’s my life, Steve. I got sober for him. I stay sober for him. What am I supposed to do now that he’s all grown up?”

The room was silent, and the words washed over Tony harshly. What was he supposed to do with himself now that Peter is an adult? Now that the little boy he raised and loved and cared about is eighteen and finding his own way? He didn’t know. 

“Maybe,” Steve hesitated, “Maybe the Avengers Initiative program will be good for you, Tony. Maybe you can make it a passion.”

“What do you mean?”

Steve teetered. “Well, I know you love acting but I also know it's not as fulfilling as it once was. I know that you love what you do for Pepper and the company you help run, but it doesn’t make you happy. The program’s all about giving back and helping others- kids, specifically. I think it’ll help you stay grounded, I guess. Help you get some of that spark back. And then- then when you’re ready, you should start dating again.”

“That's not even on the table, Steve,” Tony protested gently, frowning, “While I think the initiative is fair game, dating’s not on the table.”

Steve looked like he was going to say something else, like the words were right on his tongue but he didn’t say anything. The silence was golden for a minute as Tony used the time to catch his breath. Nothing really felt real as he took time to process the words that Steve had laid upon him. 

He was lonely. He wasn’t sure about who he was when he wasn’t taking care of Peter. He didn’t know how to branch out. He felt untethered, and low, and bad. He would’ve been perfectly happy just ignoring these feelings, but no. Steve had to bring them all up and destroy him in a single moment. 

And then…dating. The idea of dating was the bane of his existence, and he was sure that if Steve knew how he felt about Barnes, he wouldn’t be encouraging dating, he’d be telling Tony to stay away from his brother. Barnes was off-limits. And it sucked hard because all Tony really wanted was to take him on a date and see where that led. But no- he didn’t date his friends' siblings and in fact, at this very point in his life, he wasn’t sure he dated point-blank.

Although he was one of the most ‘desirable’ bachelors in the country, he hadn’t been on a date since August 10, 2001. When Peter had been just a tiny kid, he had been really nervous about the idea of dating someone and having them use him for money or fame or fortune; he never wanted Peter to witness something like that. He never wanted Peter to see that and feel bad. So he stayed away from dating. Then Peter got older, and it just never felt like the right time. He’d wait until after this or that, and now here he was forty three, lonely, and crushing on a man who was completely off limits. 

Dating just didn’t seem like the right move. Especially if he wanted to focus his attention on the Avengers Initiative program, and turning that from just a publicity stunt into a real functioning program that he and other actors could go through to volunteer their time and effort and money. If he just focused on that, he could find a new drive in his life.

“I think I’ll pay more attention to the program, Steve,” Tony said suddenly, voice hoarse. He reached over and took a sip of his slightly cold hot chocolate, before taking up his cards. “It’s your turn.”

“Alright.” Steve paused for a moment. “Got any eights?”

“Go fish.” 

[James Barnes, 36, and Steve Rogers, 36, sitting on their living room couch in the dark, the TV in front of them lighting up the video. They seem to be playing Mario Kart, and the clock on the wall above the TV reads 2:45 AM. Sam Wilson, 32, is filming, laughing hard from behind the camera. 

“Motherfucker!” Bucky jumps up, as the character he’s playing- Princess Peach- falls off the Rainbow Road. “You fucking bastard! You pint aged fucking- you fucking-”

“Oh, wow, Buck.” Steve laughs heartily, and Sam chuckles hard, shifting so he's standing by the TV and can see their faces. “Didn’t your ma used to make you eat soap when you said words like that?”

“Suck my twenty foot cock!”

Steve just laughs, and Bucky’s face grows redder from anger, and Sam pipes up, “Aw, Bucky, you finally got your male virility enhancement surgery!”

“Shut the fuck up birdbrian!” Bucky’s arms flex as he screeches, “No! NO! Steve you fucking loser! You didn’t just ink me did you punk?”

“I dunno Buck, what if I did?”

The video cuts to Bucky hitting Steve with a couch pillow and Steve laughing hard, still playing the video game. It cuts to a shot of the screen showing that Steve’s character- Wario- won, and Peach came in dead last. Bucky is lying on the floor with shaking shoulders, presumably in rage as he is still screaming into a pillow. The video ends.]

The Winter Soldier {✓} @SamWilson

Anyway, whenever my co-star says ‘come to my house it’s urgent,’ I never know whether to expect someone dying or Bucky having a melt down. 

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Steve would like to think that he was in fact, a very good friend. In fact, he’d like to think since the very second he’d been born, he’d come out with a piece of paper instating him as the absolute best friend in the entire world who should never be taken for granted because he was just that good. And he’d love to think that from the very beginning him and Bucky had been destined to be the bestest friends of all time. 

Their mothers had certainly thought so, or they wouldn’t have opted to become friends with each other after the dreaded realization that their boyfriend was cheating on them with each other and they were both pregnant. Funny how life works like that. It was never a secret that they were half brothers, but it was something that he thought of a lot. Really, he didn’t think it mattered they were related because at the end of the day he was still Bucky’s best friend and Bucky was still his. They were important to each other.

And he’d like to think that he and Bucky would always have each other’s back until the end of the line. 

But. He was going to scream.

“-Bucky. Bucky,” Steve sighed sharply, looking up at where the other man was raving about Tony. “If you don’t shut up, I’m literally going to kill you.”

“You couldn’t, you love me too much.” 

“I don’t want to hear about Tony’s ass.” He sighed again, rubbing at his brow. “And I don’t wanna hear about your urge to date him. He said he’s not ready to date, Buck.”

Bucky huffed. “Or did you tell him you were asking because I’m asking and he shot you down because of that?”

“Bucky- you’ve known me for how long now?” 

“Since the day we were born, Stevie.”

“And when have I ever done that?”

His friend stood up, grabbed a pillow, and started hitting him with it. “Literally every time I’ve had a crush since grade school except once! You fucking dick, don’t pretend like you don’t enjoy meddling with my love life!”

“Okay- Okay!” Steve couldn’t breathe from the laughing, and his face hurt from where Bucky was hitting him. “I admit it! I do like messin’ with you, Buck, but I promise you, this time I didn’t. I haven’t said anything to Tony about your massive crush on him!”

“I don’t believe you,” Bucky grumbled, but he put down the pillow and sat on the couch, brow furrowed, “I’m just- Christ, Stevie, I don’t know what's got into me recently. I knew the guy was attractive, but you’ve been workin on that new movie, and when I tag along, he’s all I pay attention to or think about. He makes my heart race.”

“Which probably isn’t good for a war veteran who’s supposed to be avoiding stress and stressful situations.”

“God, shut up. You sound like your ma.”

“I’m nowhere near as nice as my ma.”

“You got that right.”

Silence washed over them again, and Steve frowned quietly. “Bucky, I know it's not my place, but have you thought of maybe just…talking more to Tony?”

“You act as if I don’t.” His best friend gave him a deadpanned look, face entirely neutral even if Steve could tell he was slightly hurt. “He still calls me Barnes. Me and Peter get along great, and Peter tells me that he likes me, but he still calls me Barnes.”

“He calls you Barnes because he thinks Bucky’s a dumb name.” Which, yeah, it was but it was also Bucky’s name that he’d given his friend, so it meant something. “Trust me, if you two got a little closer, he’ll give you all sorts of nicknames.That's just who Tony is.”

Bucky shrugged and curled into himself a little. “I just also- Steve, why on earth would he want me? I’m a cripple-”

“-don’t call yourself that-”

“-no, Steve, let's not play like I didn’t lose my arm, and most of the sensation in my left upper body, because I did,” Bucky said sharply. “And I know things have gotten better since the prosthetic, but come on. This is Tony Stark. He’s literally one of the most desired men on the planets, one of the richest. Why would he want me?”

“Because he’s Tony,” Steve protested, chest puffing to defend his friend- both of them. “He’s Tony. He doesn’t give a shit about metal arms, and all that junk. He cares about people, Buck. And you know that. That’s just your anxiety talking.”

“It’s not just-” Steve cut him off with a look, and Bucky changed course, “Okay, some of it is anxiety. But in my defense, he still calls me Barnes! What the hell am I supposed to think?”

And for that, Steve has no answers, because he truly didn’t know what to tell Bucky. He’d never known Tony not to have nicknames for people. He was always ‘Cap’ or ‘Hot Stuff’ or ‘Good ol’ America’ or a pun on something or another. Virginia Potts was always ‘Pep’, and ‘Pepper’, and ‘Honeypot.’ Peter was almost never Peter- he was ‘Pete’, ‘buddy,’ ‘kiddo’, ‘bambino,’ ‘Petey.’ So he really didn’t know what Bucky was supposed to think.

“Like was so much easier in high school,” Bucky mumbled, shifting so his face was pressed into Steve’s shoulder, and Steve patted his hair sympathetically. “Remember those days? I was the hot one.”

He snorted, “Oh, how the turns have tabled.”

“I hate you,” Bucky growled, “Remember, punk, I was the guy that had your back every single day for four years. Every. Single. Day. Remember how I used to watch you try to talk to Peg-”

“No!” Jerking, Steve flung his hands over his ears. “No! Don’t say her name! If you say her name, I’m gonna get the urge to look her up on social media, and then suddenly I’ll be in Brooklyn again, proposing to her and asking her to marry me!” 

“Oh my God. ” The growl turned into an annoyed groan. “Do you know how annoying you are, Steve? You couldn’t even get the courage to ask her to prom!”

“I hadn’t hit my growth spurt yet! She was still taller than me! And she had raised an eyebrow at me when I tried, and I couldn’t get the words out- stop! We don’t need to talk about my failed love life, let’s focus back on yours!”

He could’ve thanked God when Bucky just laughed, rolling his eyes. 

“You’re lucky I care about your mental health. If I didn’t, I think I’d literally rag on you every single moment of the day for your obsession with Peggy.”

“I said not to say her name!” 

“Oh my God,” Bucky groaned again. “Seriously, punk, it’s like even hearing her name turns you back into that dweeby little nice guy who tried to talk to her every day but always ended up struggling to get out the first syllable."

“I do not- I was not-”

“Steve.” Bucky sat up fully to meet his friends eyes, face completely serious, eyes sharp. “I love you, man, and I think that if I were anyone else on the planet I wouldn't say this- but I’m not anyone else, I’m your half-brother, and your best friend. We’ve known each other from the day we were born. So please, I hope you trust me on this, because this isn’t coming from one of your super fans who love you and obsessed over you-”

“-please shut up-”

“-This is coming from me.” Bucky took a deep breath then said firmly, “you were the scrawniest, dweebiest motherfucker in the entire world and you spent our entire high school career beating up bullies, drawing fanart of sci-fi characters, and pining after Peggy Carter.”

“I-” Steve flushed. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“Yes, you were.”

“I talked to her a lot! We both did!”

“Because we were in debate club with each other.” Bucky raised a sharp brow. “You, me, Peggy…and Macy…were all in there together. So don’t even start, Steve. That was the only time you ever held more than a minute long conversation with her.”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck, and spoke sheepishly. “We were just- we were always on equal footing there. It was there and in the art room.  And it wasn’t like we didn’t talk. When we did talk, we talked for hours and hours, while you and Macy were off doing God knows what. It was just like- every time I went to talk to her outside of those places, everyone was around us and they were all looking at me because Peggy was the prettiest girl in school- and-”

“Stevie, you don’t have to explain anything to me.” Bucky’s voice was quieter, and he knew the reminder of Macy probably stung slightly. “I know how Peggy made you feel. I also think it's dorky that you haven’t even thought of moving on. It's been- God, it's been almost eighteen years and you still think about her.” 

“Not eighteen,” Steve said quickly. “Me and Peg went to college together after Macy went back to Tennessee and you joined the army. For me, it's only been fourteen.”

“Because that's so much better.”

“It is so much better!” Frowning, he hit Bucky’s arm lightly. “And you can’t talk at all! Have you or have you not been into Tony since our first movie with him!”

“That's not fourteen years of pinning though.”

“Shut up.”

They sat in silence again after that, just leaning on each other like they were still five-year-olds curled up on the couch while their mothers laughed in the kitchen. It’s been years since they were that little, that sweet, that vulnerable. Before Bucky joined the military, before Steve became hot. Before a life of money and fame and a prosthetic arm. Before high school and all the woes that came with it. It’s been years since they were just two kids in Brooklyn, together against the world. 

Slowly, Steve exhaled. “We should visit my mom sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded.“We should. My mom would be cussing us out right now if she knew that you and I and our fancy rich house wasn’t visiting Sarah.”

A pang of grief ran through him and he held Bucky a little closer, seeking the comfort of his brother, “It's strange. It’s so far away- Brooklyn. Physically. Mentally. And that's just how I feel- can’t imagine how you feel.”

“Like I fell off a train and got my arm blasted off,” Bucky deadpanned, then softened. “That's how I always feel. I guess I’ve gotten used to it. I miss Brooklyn too, punk. Back when it was us and our family and the city. Back when we were two kids just pickin’ fights and never knew when to draw the line. And our two gals- shit, Stevie, the four of us were iconic back then.”

“Tony isn’t Macy, you know.” The words fell out of his mouth before he could stop them. “I know you get caught up in people who are kind, but they’re different.”

“I know that, Steve.” The words were heavy, but somehow, lighter than every other thing they’d said this night. “But I’m telling you now, I like Tony because he’s Tony. He’s beautiful, and funny, and witty. He knows how to put people down and be cruel, but he doesn’t . And he’s so smart. If you think I like Tony just because he and Macy got the same kinda kindness about them, you’re a damn fool.”

Warmth settled in Steve’s chest again. “Oh Buck- that's good!”

“It isn’t if he doesn't like me-” Bucky jolted up, eyed widening, turning to Steve with an almost feral look about him. “That's it! That’s it! I’m gonna get Tony to fall in love with me.”

“Bucky-”

“-no, Steve-” 

“He said he’s not ready-”

“So I can wait till he is!” Bucky stood up, eyes bright. “This is perfect. I’ll be waiting till he’s ready, but until then, I’m gonna show him that he can fall in love with me! That I’m worthy of falling in love with! This is perfect!”

Steve shook his head, but let it drop. This would be entertaining for everyone involved. Bucky making a fool of himself again and again and again, and he’d just get to sit back and watch the chaos. Oh, this would be fun. This would be very very fun. 

Besides- Tony was a grown man, and Steve had heard him talk about the importance of telling people who ask you out to fuck off. He could handle himself, and he knew Bucky wouldn’t take the flirting too far. 

“Alright, Buck.” Steve grinned. “Whatever you say.”

[An image of Iron Man. Not Tony Stark, but the character of Iron Man, in the suit, with the face mask down. The background is a shade of lilac fading from the top into a dark blue that made the red of the Iron Man suit stand out vividly. The gold is almost slightly shiny in the image, but it's just some very very good editing- probably done by someone with a lot of time on their hands. It's a very beautiful edit, with the hazel eyes of the superhero popping out and making him look every bit a very handsome man. 

However, right next to his head, in gold cursive lettering, is the words ‘Take the suit away and what are you?’

The next image reveals a picture that was taken from the first Iron Man movie of Iron Man in the cave, clearly trapped, struggling against the pain and the heat of the arc reactor. The background is an overpowering dusty yellow, gold, orange color, and the only cool toned color on the entire screen is the light blue of the arc reactor. Somehow, Tony Stark still looks extremely handsome in this edit, albeit grimy and gross. 

The lettering this time is in arc reactor blue, and a slanted, messy font, that looks similar to normal handwriting, ‘A man. A friend. A hero.’]

Can’t, I’m allergic  @hpotato 

Anyway, might fuck around and Do some more photoshop. DM’s are open for requests! #avengersassemble #ironman #CaptainAmericaCivilWar

20 retweets and comments   70 likes

Harley dragged his fingertips across the wall of their house, bracing himself there just in case his legs decided they wanted to stop working again. Technically, he wasn’t supposed to be out of bed, and technically, he was supposed to be sound asleep. He was never good at following those rules though, even when he was a kid. When he was a kid, he hadn’t liked bed time, and he didn’t like bedtime now that he was seventeen.

The light in the small office was on, illuminating the hallway with a soft yellow hue. Letting his fingers dance across the frames, he smiled at the photo on the wall. Him, his mom, and his godmother at Disneyland, a year or two before the accident. They had been really happy because his dad had finally agreed to give up any custody he could’ve claimed on Harley. Disney was his godmother’s way to celebrate this moment. It had really been one of the happiest moments of their lives. 

More photos littered the hall- some of his godmother when she had graduated college, some of his mom in high school. Some of him growing up, some more of the three of them pressed together after long nights. One at the end of the hall of his mom, his godmother, and their two best high school friends. The sickly frame of Steve Rogers was the one he was more used to- he loved the avengers movies, but he grew up hearing his godmother and mom laugh about the antics the four of them used to get into in high school, and he never got out of the habit of associating Steve with his mom and his godmother and the scrawny kid he was in all their photos rather than...Steve Rogers. Captain America. 

Harley sighed quietly, before slipping into the office, bare feet on cold hard wood. “Peggy, we said curfew was at eleven.”

“Bloody hell-” She jolted, turning around with a furrowed brow. “Harley, you’re supposed to be asleep.”

“So are you.”

“I’m doing things for work, if you must know.” Peggy let out a soft hum, and Harley took that as his que to plop himself on the lounge couch they had set up in her office, “The hospital’s been a mess lately, with all the buzz and media coverage it's been getting. I’m working to make sure things stay tiptop.”

He reached to the floor to pull up a blanket, “Peg, you work too hard. Aren’t you supposed to be on a bit of a break so you can actually do your job when that program is set up?” 

“That’s irrelevant-” Peggy pressed her lips together, the brightness of her lipstick having faded through the day, but still a thin shine of red. “Besides, I’m not the one of us who’s supposed to be on bedrest, Harley.”

“That is also irrelevant.”

“You’re too much like me.” Standing, she motioned him to scootch over, and slid onto the couch next to him. “But I’m serious, Harley. If the medications causing worsened insomnia-”

“Peggy, Peg- Margaret,” Harley huffed, shaking his head. “I’m okay. I’m fine. They’re not causing any worse insomnia than I already have. I’m going to be fine. You need to stop being a worrier.”

She gave him a dry look, one that he knew was reserved for people she loved. “Harley David Keener, if you think I am the worrier out of the two of us, you have clearly not being paying attention to anything.” 

“Hey! I’m not a worrier!”

“Not as much as your mother was,” Peggy looked far away then. “You really ought to have seen her back in high school. She hated how Steve and Bucky got into fights all the time, and hated even more when I joined in. Yet she always bandaged Bucky and Steve up.”

“But not you?”

“Harley, you know better than to assume anyone could ever get a hit on me.” And just like that she was back to reality, even if her eyes still held some of the fondness of thinking about her oldest friends. “Bucky and Steve on the other hand- well, they were very careless. And Steve, he’d fight until he had to go down.”

Shifting to get comfortable, he studied his godmother's face carefully. Peggy Carter hadn’t aged a day since the photo’s they’d hung up all around the office, even as small lines added around her eyes, and her brow got more and more firm as time went on, as though she was constantly in charge and in control. He supposed she was technically always in charge and in control. Being the head of a hospitals marketing, outsourcing, and coordination department must be hard. Just as hard as losing your best friend and having to fully take custody of her thirteen-year-old son. 

They’d been given a shitty lot in life, he thought slowly, watching his aunt think, reading over documents for the hospital, but at the end of the day he and Peggy were family, blood relatives or not. It was things like that, the remembrance of his and Peggy's shared tics and the way she had been in his life since he was a baby, that really made him still feel comfortable and safe, even with his health problems and nightmares and multitude of other issues. It had been hard, losing his mom, because she was such a vital part of both of their lives. 

But they still had each other- and they always would. They were each others most important people in the world. When Macy had died, and Peggy’s fiance had said he didn’t want to take in Harley, the choice was clear what she had to do; and when the courts asked Harley who he wanted to stay with, he didn’t hesitate. Maybe the world was underhanded and cruel and made Peggy frown sharply at the twists and turns life could take but at least they had each other. 

“Hey, Peg?” She hummed, and Harley continued, “You really do need to sleep soon. You’re meeting with the Marvel team tomorrow, remember?” 

“Harley.” She gave him a look, before returning her attention to the papers in her lap. “I’ll go to sleep when you go to sleep. I can run on coffee and a good smoke if I need to, as long as you get some rest too.”

He felt his nose wrinkle- a tick he’d picked up from his mom. “I thought we said no smoking.”

“No, we said no smoking in the house or around you.” She reached over blindly to ruffle his hair. “What I do before work is none of your business, and even more, it's a hard habit to break. I can’t just go stone cold turkey.”

“It’s been twelve years since I got diagnosed with my heart diseases,” Harley found himself stating dryly, and wasn’t surprised to find he sounded exactly like her. “And you said you’d quit then. You still haven’t.”

“I’m working on it.” 

They both knew she wasn’t, but neither of them voiced that thought. Harley was content to scroll through his phone, the screen giving him something to focus on while Peggy muttered and planned over her papers. Content in their own work, they were good working together. 

Harley liked to think he got that from his mother- the ability to sit in silence with someone and work quietly. There were a lot of things he thought he got from his mom. He knew he got his looks from her, but he thought he got her fire. Her ability to be annoyed and happy at the same time. Her work ethic. He’d even like to think he got her ability to care; however, that was a little different because Macy cared so deeply about every little thing and Harley struggled to find himself caring about himself. But that was most likely the depressive side effects of having a fucked up heart and terrible health talking, not him. 

These days, he saw a lot more Peggy than his mother in him. He was very blunt and not afraid to speak his mind, and he didn’t mind getting that dry fond voice on the few friends he did have, and he definitely didn’t mind the way that he could strategize on the spot like Peggy could. To this day, he was the only person with the capability to beat her in chess, checkers, and on a good day, Monopoly. They had a lot in common, and it presented itself in obvious ways. He still clutched onto the part of him that was his mom though. 

Having family was nice, even if some of that family was missing. Maybe they weren’t a full family without Macy Keener and her gentle smile, and her ability to get Peggy to take a break and get Harley to sleep and her baked goods and her soft hands that were always manicured, but they were a family. Harley liked to think that in every single world that could exist, he and Peg were some sort of family, come sort of connected. She wasn’t another mom, but she was a good godmother, someone he could look up too.

Scrolling, he snorted, then showed his phone to Peggy. “Look what I just found.”

“Good Lord.” Peggy inhaled sharply. “I thought I told you not to follow accounts that showed Steve off like that.”

“I will say that it’s weird that they’re posting shirtless pics,” Harley admitted. “But it's also an edit of pre-serum and post-serum. I think the edit’s funny.”

“It’s crude is what it is.”

“I resent that!” He huffed, sitting up a little more. “I don't follow NSFW blogs at all, and I don't like most shirtless Steve pics!” 

“And yet you’re showing me that one!”

“Look at the skill in the photoshop, Peg!” Shoving the phone closer to her face, he huffed again. “Look at the skill of coloring and blending layers! And look at the tag line! ‘Good becomes great, and dumb becomes himbo!’ That's hilarious.”

Peggy just shook her head again. “Harley, your sense of humor is incredibly strange.”

“Your sense of humor is incredibly strange,” he mocked her accent, pouting. “You should be nicer to me you know. I have a heart condition.”

“Oh, just one?”

“Shut up.”

“Harley.” Peggy’s eye roll was in her voice. “You’re incorrigible, you realize that, yes?”

“Obviously,” he muttered, leaning into her side. 

She leaned to put the papers up and started combing her hand through his hair gently. “You sleepy yet?”

“Are you?”

“Touche.”

He was sleepy though, with Peggy's bony hands carding through his hair, and the soft music coming from his phone of an edit of Captain America x Iron Man played on his phone. He wasn’t the biggest shipper in the world, but he really did enjoy the skill put into edits and art and all the smallest little things that made him really happy. Maybe he’d try his hand at video editing one day, later, after he built his actual desktop computer and wasn’t operating out of Peggy's old laptop that broke down if he had more than three photos pulled up on Photoshop. 

Blinking he yawned, then looked up to his godmother to see if she caught it. She hadn’t, eyes tracing Steve’s face on the screen. Despite it having been years, you never forget your first love, he supposed. His mom used to tease her about it all the time- her big crush on the tiny, dorky, clever, Steve Rogers. He had heard a lot of stories about how Steve so clearly liked her back because he always stuttered at her in the halls and any place they weren’t just them, but Peggy denied the boy had ever had any feelings. 

Harley just thought it was funny they were dwindling on a relationship that could’ve been. 

“C’mon,” Peggy chided lightly, sleepiness creeping into her eyes even if her expression remained fairly normal and plain. “Let’s go to bed, Harley.”

“Alright.”

Peggy moved out of the room, but a picture frame caught his eye. It was one he’d seen a thousand times before but kept finding himself looking at any way, again, and again, and again. His mom’s sixteenth birthday. She was sitting in the bed of a pickup truck, and the streets of Brooklyn were sprawling out behind her, and she was beaming brightly. Peggy sat next to her, and it was strange to look at Peggy with soft waves instead of her signature curls and red lipstick, grinning with a soft look in her eye. The boy next to his mom had dark hair, dark gray eyes, and his arm slung over her shoulder, but what always caught his eyes was the way that Steve Rogers- skinny, nerdy, dorky- was staring at his godmother like she was the entire world. 

High school love was strange. 

He turned and made his way back to his bedroom to go lay down. 

Chapter Text

[Video opens to a clip from an Instagram Live. Peter Stark, grinning widely, is pressed up next to movie star Betty Brant. In the background, Ned Leeds, famous for playing Harry Potter- the Boy Who Lived- in the Harry Potter franchise, is laughing with Harry Osborn, a famous fashion model and designer as well as heir to the Oscorp fortune.

“Betty,” Peter drawls, grin getting even wider, as he does a fake British accent, clearly mocking the British actress, “My love, are you sure you want to only date Ned? I am right here, and so much more handsome and enjoyable and-”

Ned starts laughing louder, and the camera flips. It’s clear they’re in a pool, somewhere, most likely one of their mansions, and it's one of those things that just feels right. They all look comfortable in their skin. Peter pouts. 

“Ned! Don’t laugh at me! I’m trying to seduce your girlfriend!”

“Oh, I’m not seducable.” Betty’s accent rings clear, as she goes and plops herself onto Ned’s lap, kissing all over his face before grinning at the camera. “Especially when I’ve got my Sweetiekins right here.”

Harry roars with laughter. “Sweetiekins?!”

“Shut up-” Ned protests, voice filled with laughter. “It's sweet!”

The video turns back to a laughing Peter, and for a split second you can see his abs, his chest, and the swim shorts he’s wearing, before the camera flips back to his face, and he grins. “I hate my friends so much! I just wanted a cute girlfriend!”

The video cuts to black.]

War Machine Roxx!   @roxiannextony

anyway you can see Peters abs in this and eye-

8.6k retweets and comments    10k likes

Harley actually didn’t mind the fact he was in a fandom. He was very aware that being in a fandom meant an automatic label as cringey and creepy- and he understood 100% why things like this got that rep. Having been on Tumblr since he was thirteen, he’d like to think he knew the worst kinds of groups on the internet. After all, there were very few places where toxic fandoms liked to congregate than Tumblr. 

He’d actually been in a few rather toxic fandoms himself. There was a stint in middle school where all he had done was obsess over the Harry Potter books and movies- he’d actually realized he was gay while he was watching Ned Leeds fight off the Dark Lord when they were both thirteen. It made him flustered to think about now but he really did have a crush on the actor back when he was just discovering he was gay. He shipped Drarry and shunned Dramione shippers and was 100% going to participate in fandom wars and fandom drama. That was when he was thirteen, though. 

And, yes, maybe he still was willing to go to war to yell at Snape apologists. Maybe if he saw someone arguing heavily on why Marvel was bad, he would throw down his gloves. It was all perfectly normal and justified and fair, okay, he was fair. Besides no matter what internet beef he took part in, he took solace in one thing; it was way better than the Hamilton fandom and the time a woman faked their whole identity and life so they wouldn’t get yelled at for writing an HIV+ Laams au. 

Which. Yeah. Harley understood why fandom got a really bad rep. He even understood why people who weren’t fans had given that rep to them. 

He just didn’t think that applied to every single person who just happened to be in fandom spaces. Sure, some creeps ruined the entire thing for everybody, but there were a lot of good things about environments like that too. He still talked to the internet friends he had made when he was extremely into Harry Potter, and they still sent their fics for him to beta. There were a lot of really good things about fandoms!

If he had never found fandoms, he wouldn’t have realized his passion for creating edits, or learning code, or the building that came after he got into code. So he had a lot to be thankful for. And the fandom he was in now…God, he loved the Marvel fandom. He wasn’t a big creator in it but his Twitter was steadily gaining followers and his Tumblr was doing the same and he was happy. 

The Marvel fandom had its fair share of creepy people- but mainly, Harley had never been in a fandom that just straight up ignored things they didn’t like. When Age Of Ultron had come out, the fandom as a collective went, “oh, this never actually happened.” And Harley thought that was perhaps one of the best things he ever saw. The shipping scene got a little weirder, but he didn’t mind that either.

Overall, Harley really adored fandoms.

“You’re an absolute nerd, Harley,” Peggy called, pen in her hand marking over some of the world that needed to be done for the hospital program she was working on. “Are you rewatching The First Avenger movie? Again?”

On second thought, no he didn’t, not when it meant his godmother was gonna bully him. “No! I’m watching clips of it for an edit.” 

“Lord.” She shook her head and shot him a grin. “Do you think this edit will be a big hit on Twitter?”

“You’re mean.” He felt his cheeks burn slightly, but ignored it. “And if you must know, my last edit got a total of eighty rewtweets. I’m practically a big name in the fandom already. You know. Of the one billion fans, eighty of them like my edits.”

Peggy laughed, and reached over to steal a grape from his plate, “I will never understand how your fandom things work.”

“You know? Neither do I.” He frowned at his screen, scrolling through a few screenshots of Peter Stark shirtless. “But I like it. Maybe I’m not huge in it like some of my mutuals, but it's something that makes me happy. And you always tell me I need to take what makes me happy and hold it close.”

“Right, and I don’t mean to shame you for your interests, Harls.” She laughed again, because she was his Peggy and she totally did mean to shame him for things she totally understood too. “If I remember, me and your mother and our friends had a quite active DnD campaign once upon a time. I don’t see you with any dice or magic spell books.”

He reached over- retaliating for the stolen grape by stealing a part of her toast. “Because unlike you, I’m not an uber nerd. And also the hospital DnD group is just…depressing, Peg. All of our characters are terminally ill. I wonder why.”

“Oh, gee. It's almost like you rarely get representation in media so you strive for representation yourselves.”

“Careful.” His attention had been brought back to his phone by a leaked image of the spider-suit that Peter would be wearing. “You almost sound like a film critic.”

“Oh, sorry, must be the movie review column Steve forced me to write in high school.” Peggy's blunt amusement was always fun to hear in the mornings. “And your mother's rants on the Indiana Jones franchise filled me with a lot of dissullison for the movie industry.”

“Yeah, yeah- and terminally ill kids get rep. We got an entire movie about terminally ill kids in love. Twice.”

“Harley.” She laughed again, because they had stayed up late for his birthday and watched both ‘The Fault in Our Stars’ and ‘Six Feet Apart’ in a haze of gummy bears and cackling laughter. The day after, his heart had given out slightly, and he had to go back to the hospital for three more months, but it was a fond memory either way. “You’re so over-dramatic.”

“Me?” Blinking innocently, he reached over to grab another piece of toast, “I’m not over-dramatic at all. I’m completely and totally normal and functional and undramatic. I am like every other teenage boy in America. Video games, movies, bad jokes. The works.”

Peggy smiled at him fondly, eyes warm. “Oh yes. Video games, movies, bad jokes. The works.”

“Totally normal boy.”

“Yes, absolutely. No secret fan page dedicated to making edits of superheroes. No fanfiction website account with stories bookmarked. No heart diseases. Just video games and movies and bad jokes.”

“Hey,” he protested, frowning, “Normal boys like that stuff.”

“Completely.” 

“I think normal boys like that stuff. Superheroes at least, right?”

“Well,” she hemmed and the humor in her voice grew as she raised a very sharp eyebrow at him, voice a grin, “I think that when normal boys think of superheroes they like the action portions of the movies, and reading comics where bad guys get beat up. Meanwhile, I’ve seen your internet history, and you like reading fanfic where the Avengers all live together in Avengers Tower and are found family. A little different.”

“Can we go back to making fun of how you used to play DnD?” Crossing his arms, Harley leaned back and reached for his phone again. “That was fun.”

“Unfortunately-” Peggy’s voice lost a lot of its casual humor as she picked up her papers again, brows furrowing. “We can’t. I’m too busy focusing on this ‘Avengers Assemble Initiative.’”

He liked a post of Captain America and his Winter Soldier before looking up and frowning to match her own expression. “Avengers Assemble Initiative?”

“Did I not tell you?”

“You probably did, but not in such an official name.”

“Well.” Her voice was tight- the way it always did when she disagreed with something on a moral level. “Our hospital branch is in arrangement with Marvel Studios that the actors of the Avengers should be allowed to come in, and hold charity fundraisers and events. Apparently, they’re all about charity.”

The words should have lit a spark of excitement in him. He loved the Avengers movies- he would even secretly admit to using some of the interviews that the cast did as fodder to fall asleep when he was in the hospital- but he really really didn’t like the idea of this. Maybe it was in the disapproval in Peggy’s voice, or maybe it was his own burning hatred for people pitying him. Or maybe it was the fact that the Avengers cast usually meant Steve Rogers. 

And he hadn’t even bothered to come to his mom’s funeral. 

Instead of voicing these thoughts, Harley just sighed. “I think you’ve turned me into a cynic, Peg, because all I’m hearing is a publicity ploy where they garner on the sympathies of clinically ill kids.”

“That’s the problem.” The present frown on her face grew deeper, and her voice even tighter. “I’m very worried about the idea of these executives using the kids in the hospital as a marketing tool without any regard for how promising small children that they’d be allowed to spend more than a day with their favorite actors- and then stopping that after their newest movie comes out- will affect these kids. I- I suppose we just have to settle for what we get, but I still don’t like the idea of creating a whole Initiative where actors and fans volunteer, and only using it when they have something new to promote-”

“You’re overthinking it, Peggy.” He tried to make his voice sound gentle and kind, but honestly, he felt the same. 

Specifically he was thinking of Ronan- a kid that he shared a room with a few times. The whole reason he had even started liking Marvel so much is because every time Ronan’s little brother came to visit in the hospital they watched all the Marvel movies that they could. The kid was always struggling to find hope, nowadays. Some of the medications that a lot of the younger kids had a bad tendency to give them depression, and Ronan was no different. The idea of Ronan waiting by the doorway watching, waiting excitedly for his favorite superheroes too volunteer and being disappointed again and again-

It didn’t sit right with him. 

“But the other issue is…” Peggy was staring at a point on her page with wide eyes, blinking slowly. “Tony Stark- yes, your favorite actor in the whole world, Iron Man, father, playboy, philanthropist or whatever- has added a note that he’d very much like to schedule a meeting and discuss the idea of him being directly involved in the program.”

“That's…good right?” 

“It could be.” Finally she set down the paper and shook her head. “But I’m just not exactly sure what that means. ‘Directly involved’ in the program usually means that the star your working with demands this or that- but the way he phrases his statement makes it look like he’d want to be in charge of organizing it on the Marvel side of things.”

“Again, isn’t that good?” 

“I’m just not quite sure about the implications.”

“Well.” He stood, taking the plate he’d been eating from and grabbing hers as well. “If there's one thing I’ve learned by being a fan of his, it’s that he’s generally one of the better actors about donating and volunteering. Maybe it's a good thing.”

“Maybe.”

“And besides, Peg, you know what this means, right?” The thought he was about to voice kind of antagonized him, but he knew it would fluster Peggy and make her laugh. “You finally get to see your ‘beloved’ Stevie again.”

Harley was right; Peggy laughed.

[There are four image attachments to this Tweet. The first one is a photo of Peter Stark, taken from an Instagram post of Tony Stark’s. Peter is around five or six. He’s got chubby cheeks, and a wide grin. One of his front teeth is missing and his eyes are extremely bright. He’s holding up a sign in chubby little baby hands, declaring brightly that he’s just graduated kindergarten. He’s dressed in a mini suit and bowtie, as though this were his real and important graduation. 

The second image is one of Steve Rogers and Tony Stark, eating out on a patio. The original image is from a gossip site, or the paparazzi, or a fan page. Multiple sources. The photo has been edited- rather well- so that a small, five year old, Peter Stark, is sitting in a chair next to Steve, and it looks like he’s just chatting away. The image of Peter used is taken from another fan page. It's clear that this is an image dedicated to making the three of them look like a family.

The next image is a screencap of the Avengers movie, with Captain America clutching at Iron Man’s fallen body before Hulk woke Iron Man up. This is one of the absolute most shippable moments in the entire MCU, according to the fandom. Peter has been edited in to be kneeling by his dad’s side. The photo they stole Peter’s image from is from a movie- his first!- that has him crying. It's really really good editing. 

The final image is one of the three of them, looking like a proper family. This image was actually taken directly from Peter’s own Instagram, of the first premiere of the Avengers movies. It’s an incredibly soft image, as Peter is maybe eight or nine, and dressed up in a suit matching his dad. Steve- having seen this coming- has a tie matching Tony’s. Apparently, they had all planned this. Another favorite moment of the fandom.]

Pumpkin   @MarvelManiac

All of us are fools,,,, we’re all fools,,,,,,, complete idiots.

SuperFamily AU. 

15k retweets and comments    22.4k likes

Tony wasn’t blind or ignorant. 

Out of everyone else he’d worked with, he’d like to think that he was the most socially conscious of them all. Those two words had made their way into his vocabulary at a very young age. Everyone else he worked with- Steve, Sam, etc. etc.- all started from the perspective of normal people, and that gave them a huge advantage sometimes, and a huge disadvantage other times. 

For example:

Tony had been taught from a very, very , young age what he needed to do or learn in order to get the public on his side. Then, when he got out of his parents clutches, he had realized that he was in a very influential position with his wealth in his fame, that he shouldn’t just be doing things to get the public on his side, that he could generally just draw attention and support issues that caught his eye and people would flock to it. 

So ever since then, he’d tried to be as socially conscious as he could. What he supported, what he didn’t support. He wouldn’t let people run his social media accounts, just in case they posted something or another that was absolutely not what he stood for. 

Meanwhile, while he was trying his best to use the fame he’d always had since the day he was born to help others, some of his coworkers still didn’t realize they had that same power. Tony couldn’t pretend to understand- but he’d been born into this life of expectations and publicity, and had always found himself acutely aware of the power he held. 

It’d been a realization he had at a very young age; pouting at his mother in public had stirred five or six different interviewers asking him if his mother wasn’t good to him. 

That one was ironic. 

After he had Peter, and sobered up, he’d wanted to shelter Peter from that- but more importantly, he’d wanted Peter to understand the importance of the world around them. Thus, his parenting model had always relied a little on teaching the kid to share and care and enjoy the world around them. He took Peter to marches and rallies, showed him how important Pepper was as a female CEO of a Fortune 100 company, how clean energy revolutionized the world, how poverty was terrible and donating at least fifteen percent of their wealth to organizations pledged against it was important. 

So yeah, now that Peter was kinda grown up and doing his own things, it made sense to him that he’d want to change a program that started as a marketing ploy into a legitimate volunteer organization that his fellow actors could reach out too and organize events and volunteer efforts. 

“Mr. Stark?” the blonde-haired secretary called his attention. “Hi, Ms. Carter is ready to see you now.” 

“Thank you-” He glanced at her desk. “Angie.”

Tony had heard a lot about Margaret Carter. The manager of MCU’s marketing team had described her as a ‘bitch’ and ‘stuck-up’. Honestly, he wasn’t too sure that the manager was capable of calling anyone but himself a stuck-up bitch, because that was just the kind of person he was. He’d heard from hospital staff that she was amazing, brilliant, and bold. Everyone else had mixed things to say- ranging from stubborn and rough, to smooth and gentle. 

Nothing would’ve prepared him from the young woman standing by the windows in her office, style distinctly classic. Her eyebrows were perfect, her soft brown eyes sharp and commanding, her hair curled in a vintage pin curl style that reminded him vaguely of his mother, a cream blouse that looked vintage, and black slacks. He wasn’t aware that hospitals had cut throat business women, but staring at the woman in front of him gave him such sharp Pepper vibes that he almost took a picture right then and there to send to his favorite CEO. 

“Ah, Mr. Stark.” The British accent shook him slightly, words elegant and soft, as if she was making him listen. “I’m glad you’ve set up this meeting.”

Clearing his throat, he remembered himself. “I’m glad you’ve allowed me too. I know you’ve been busy planning details for this program and probably don’t appreciate a movie star dropping by to discuss things.”

“On the contrary,” she said, moving towards the desk in the center of the room, “I appreciate it immensely, given the ploy your marketing team is currently using.”

“Ploy?”

“Please, sit, Mr. Stark.” 

He sat.

“I care a lot about this hospital, and the patients in it. I especially care a lot about the in-patient care wards that the publicists for your new movie have been so keen on. I don’t like how this seems to be a publicity stunt for you, when the lives of actual children are being affected.” 

Shock washed over him, and he was sure the words affected him visibly, because she sighed. “Oh honestly, Mr. Stark, if you can’t handle the blatant truth of the situation, I rather doubt this meeting will be of any productivity.”

“No.” Finally, he managed to choke the word out, a soft sort of fondness settling in his chest. Tony could only imagine what would happen if this woman met Pepper. “No, I understand the truth of it, I just wasn’t expecting you’d be so blunt. No- I actually came to you about the urge I have to make this legitimate and not just- not just a publicity stunt.”

The words washed over her much like the shock had washed over him, and he watched the hardness in her face melt, and mold her into a much softer woman. Ms. Carter laughed softly. “I owe my godson forty bucks, Mr. Stark. It seems your fans know you better than casual observers.”

“Oh?”

“He’s a very avid fan of yours and when I told him I was meeting with you he said that you’re better than your colleagues.” She shrugged delicately, and smiled at him, teeth white against red, but somehow her entire demeanor had softened drastically. “I’m glad to see he was right. So, you want to make this into a legitimate volunteer organization instead of just a one off publicity stunt?”

“I’d love to make this a legitimate volunteer organization instead of just a one off publicity stunt,” he echoed. Leaning back in his chair, he made himself comfortable. “I have a vision in my head of an organization that actors and fans can go through and volunteer at this hospital and others in order to help bring joy into peoples' lives. We have a lot of privilege and I think it's important that we use that to help others. You know?”

“I do know.” The smile remained, and her eyes softened further, and in that moment he wondered why no one had mentioned just how pretty Margaret Carter was. He still thought Bucky was prettier, but he wouldn’t deny that Ms. Carter had an air about her- just like Pepper’s. Man, he needed to call his friend. 

“So- how would you suggest we do it?”

“Change a scam into a functioning practice?” Ms. Carter hummed as he nodded. “Well it starts in both how we market it, and how we organize it. A website will be needed, with the multiple locations of hospitals that are part of the program, and sign-ups will have to be made. The marketing material needs to be less about getting in the news and more about getting fans to sign up as well. Volunteering isn’t just for stars after all.”

“You’re completely right.” Slipping into business mode was like putting on an old glove, and he didn’t mind that he was falling back into this mode when he was pretty sure it was the beginning of bright new friendship with the woman across from him, “If we can organize it correctly, fans will flock to it, but I also think actors should be involved. I know my son would love to volunteer for something like this-”

“Wait, stop.” Ms. Carter frowned sharply for a moment, studying him. “You’re not only doing this for yourself. Let me guess- empty nester now needs a new thing to get him out of bed in the morning, and you rather enjoy volunteering anyway?”

The fact that she could read him so easily should have scared him, but he just sighed. He wondered how obvious he had been, bringing up Peter like that. 

“I was hoping to hide it from everyone.”

“I sympathize with you, Mr. Stark-”

“Tony.”

“Then you must call me Peggy.”

“Peggy.” The name felt familiar. “Peggy?”

Peggy nodded, eyes still filled with warmth. “An old nickname. My mother felt it quite fitting.”

“Huh.”

“But I sympathise with you, Tony.” Her frown had been replaced by a soft- and very small- smile again, “And I’m really glad that instead of wallowing in the empty nest of it all, you want to help people in need. It’s really quite admirable.”

“It is?”

“Yes, it is.” 

“And here I thought you were going to criticize me again.” Keeping his tone light, he winked, just to emphasize he was joking. “What about you, Peggy? You about to be an empty nester too?”

“Lord, no,” She shook her head. “I don’t have actual children. Just the godson. I like to think of myself as somewhat of a cool aunt, as he’s been staying with me since his mother died five years ago. He’s only seventeen though, so no empty nest or something yet.”

“You know the feeling though, don’t you?”

“Unfortunately.”

Solidarity passed through the both of them, and something warm settled in Tony’s chest. Maybe this really was the start of him branching out, getting new plans, becoming a new person. A better person. Closer to the person he knew his son saw him as. 

He wondered if this is what Steve had been talking about when he said he wanted Tony to develop his own life, outside of Peter, outside of acting, outside of his uaul bubble. Into this world of finding out who he was as someone who liked volunteering and kids and helping . 

He liked that this was the beginning of it. A friendship with an absolute powerhouse of a woman. Something that was based on mutual respect, love of volunteering, and a general air of understanding each other. This was something that he was proud of, he figured. This new friendship. 

“We should get back to the topic at hand.” Peggy hummed softly. “Because I only have a few hours of allotted meeting time that I can use for business matters like this. The meetings with professionals about their projects and how it affects the hospital and such.” 

Maybe not a friendship.

 “Of course. I remember hearing somewhere that you were one of the buisessiest women associated with this hospital's non-medical team. I won’t take up much more of your time- just a few ideas-”

“Of course.” She nodded. “And if you would like to grab a cup of coffee with me at some point and talk about that weight on your chest, then I’d very much enjoy that too.”

Tony fought back the urge to laugh at just how well Peggy Carter was able to read him. It was like Steve but on steroids, because Steve had taken a long time to pick up on all of his tiny cues and tics, and here Peggy Carter was able to dissect him in mere seconds. Warmth spread through him- it’d been a long time since someone he met could just understand him, other than Barnes- who didn't understand him, no, that was just Tony making things up.

He cleared his throat. “I’d enjoy that immensely.”

Peggy winked at him in a parody of his earlier action, and they got back into the careful topic of how to turn the publicity sham of a program into a genuine volunteer organization. 

And if at the end of the meeting, they exchanged personal numbers and agreed to meet up at some point and exchange teenage boy war stories, it wasn’t relevant. 

Tony categorized this as a personal victory. 

[The video opens to four actors sitting in directors’ chairs. The backdrop is a deep black, and on the side, it's clear that the beginnings of a ‘Captain America: Civil War’ poster is there, out of focus. Steve is wearing a white short-sleeve shirt, and jeans, but this is obviously done as a call back to a scene from Avengers: Age of Ultron. Tony, on the other hand is dressed in a very casual suit, a Metallica shirt visible under that. Peter’s in a soft blue sweater and black jeans, in direct contrast to Sam who’s in a black turtleneck and white-washed blue jeans.

“Hey guys,” Steve starts, voice genuine, “We’re the cast of Marvel’s newest movie, Captain America: Civil War. We know our fans have been really excited for this movie-”

“-excited for the new scenes, for the new characters.” Tony nudges his son, warmth in his smile. “And for all the new storylines being brought in.”

“This movie means a lot to us,” Sam chimes in next, and the editing makes it look very conversational. “This is gonna be me and Steve’s tenth movie together, and our third together in marvel.”

Peter nods eagerly, to anyone who knows him he’s clearly playing up the ‘I’m a child!’ aspect of his marketing. “Not to mention my first project with my dad!”

“Needless to say, we’re all really grateful for this movie.” Tony chuckles at his son, and casually leans into Steve, who grins and nudges him back. “But we have a lot to be grateful for.”

“Some kids don’t.” The editing brings Steve back into focus. “We have a lot of problems in our country, but one that personally affects many is the lives of children and teens who are being torn apart by illness and the costs this puts on their families.”

“And we-” Sam motions to the four of them. “-are tired of being just superheroes on a screen. We want to do more- to give back, and care about the communities around us.”

Tony takes the charge now.. “This is why we’re happy to announce our new program: The Avengers Initiative Program. It's a volunteer organization dedicated to spending time with patients, donating, and volunteering at hospitals. We encourage all of our fans to participate.”

“Let's all be the heroes.” Steve grins at the camera and the video fades to a screen with a bunch of numbers and information for how to contact and join in on the Avengers initiative.]

Marvel Entertainment {✓}  @Marvel

Check out our new volunteer initiative- link in bio! 

100k retweets and comments    2M likes

“It made me feel so gross,” Steve mumbled into his arms. “I don’t like how it's always made out to be some marketing ploy- especially now that you’re making it a legitimate operation. And did you read the comments? Some people were tearing into us for exploiting kids-”

“And you sound too much like Peter.” Bucky patted his back, then drew his attention back to Tony. “He’s been reading those comments too right? It's all he’d talk about on set.”

Steve glanced up, just to catch the way that Tony flushed at the fact that Bucky cared about Peter’s well-being.

“Yeah. I had to take away phone privileges for a day because it got so bad. You know a majority of fans didn’t catch on to the fact that it was a marketing ploy, but the ones who did- ouch. It really is frustrating, because you know they won’t volunteer or look into it more just because of how the studio made us present the information. What’d Sam say about it?”

“You know Sam,” Steve chimed in again, breaking the spell of aching longing that settled between his brother and his costar, “He doesn’t read comments anymore, but you heard how he was mocking it with us while we were filming.”

“You’d think he’d be a little more invested in what the fans thought, given that they decide your careers.”

“They don’t, marketing execs do,” Tony corrected, shooting a sly grin at Bucky that made Steve want to gag. Bucky, of course, just flushed, and leaned in to listen to his words. “You couldn’t have just…not noticed that the second someone gets into a scandal that PR can’t fix, they’re kicked off the actor roll? Image is everything, and if you aren’t imageable, you don’t get hired.”

“You’ve never had that problem right?” Bucky coughed, awkwardly. “Because you’re so imageable.”

Gross. Gross. Bucky and Tony were flirting, or at least trying to. How fucking pathetic, he thought to himself, that his half-brother was getting somewhere with the guy who didn’t even want to date and he was still pinning after a woman that he’d never ever get to see again. 

Life wasn’t fair.

“Not at all- you know my past.” Tony waved off the words, and vaguely, Steve thought of the alcoholism that took him off the actor roster for awhile before Peter was born. “Alcohol, drugs, the works- whatever. But I’m glad you think I’m so handsome, Barnes.”

Steve gagged. “Can you guys stop that?”

“Stop what?”

“Yeah, Stevie.” Bucky kicked him hard under the table. “Stop what?” 

Glaring, he kicked back. Bucky raised a brow, and suddenly lunged, hand balling into a fist. He let out a yelp, raising his hands to block. “Stop! Jesus!”

“Oh, you punk.” His brother snorted and let him off with one single punch. “Don’t act like you haven’t been fighting every single day of your life. In case you forgot, I used to have to back you up, back when you were a twig punching out every single person twice your side.”

“I didn’t like bullies!”

“And yet you can't take your own brother sharing some brotherly love, Stevie?” Tony teased, lip quirking up- an action that made Bucky perk up, but sent Steve’s gut sinking. He knew heckling was about to follow. “From what I’ve heard you were the one who started most of the fights. I remember- one story, where you two got your asses handed to you, and one of your friends had to step in and finish off all four of the guys who you were fucking with.”

“Okay- first of all-” Steve felt his cheeks flush at the reminder of the gossip story that had circulated within his first year of popularity. “I thought we all agreed we weren't using paparazzi shit as blackmail? That stuff’s really not fair…because we have so much more embarrassing stuff in front of us that’s not dependent on gossip sights.”

Tony just laughed, and Bucky chimed in, “You’re such a stickler about rules and morals. Why can’t you be more like Tony? He’s free spirited and kind, and better than you, man.”

“Aww, thank you, Barnes,. Tony laughed again, winking this time, which sent Bucky flushing into a light pink. “But no- Steve has a point. If we’re bringing gossip columns into this, then I’m having several affairs and I’m also an enemy of the state for collaborating with Potts Industries.”

“You-” Shaking his head, Bucky protested the words gently, “First of all, you’re co-owner of that company, and second- that entire company is dedicated to energy and prosthetics.”

Tony blushed again, and Steve rolled his eyes. Those two were insufferable. Especially since Tony didn’t feel ready for a relationship. Maybe because he didn’t feel ready, he shouldn’t be flirting with Bucky, if he didn’t actually have feelings for him- which, Steve wasn’t exactly sure that was true either. It was weird how Bucky never got a nickname like everyone else in Tony’s life did, but in honesty, he did notice how Tony treated his brother differently than others. 

It was the lingering stares and soft blushes and the fact that they never seemed to stop mentioning each other. They just liked existing in each other's space. And he knew why Bucky did it. He’d had a crush on Tony since their teenage years, when he’d seen some movie Tony was already staring in, and that crush became real feelings when he actually started interacting with him. The question was why Tony acted like that. 

Steve sighed quietly. They’d figure out their own relationship, hopefully. 

All he could do was pine for a romance that was literally never going to happen. He bet Peggy never even thought of him- 

“-and Margaret- she runs the hospital’s side of the program, was absolutely amazing.”

He must have zoned out longer than he realized, because now Tony was talking about a Margaret, which- 

“Tony, what did you just say?”

“Uh.” Tony glanced at him, breaking away from the conversation he was in with an ever enraptured Bucky. “Margaret runs the hospital’s side of the program. She’s really amazing, to be honest. Sharp and clever, and really intense. I always heard mixed things about her.”

Margaret. Like- Like his Margaret “Peggy” Carter. Fuck. Bucky just sighed in sympathy, seemingly understanding his thoughts.

“Breath, Stevie.” 

“I am breathing,” he muttered. “What- what was she like beyond that?”

“Oh- uh.” Tony’s brow furrowed. “Are you okay, Steve?”

“Fine. Just what was she like?”

“Um- she’s smart, and she likes smoking cigarettes, but she claims she’s trying to quit.” Tony was just staring at him like he was crazy, and Steve felt himself deflate. “She’s a fighter, and she absolutely ripped into me in our first meeting. She’s pretty critical of things, I guess?”

He propped his head on his hand. “God- I just- God.”

“Sorry, Tony, we should give you some context.” Bucky patted his back in sympathy, mirroring what he’d done in the beginning of their conversation. “You see, our boy Stevie here is in love.”

“First I’ve heard of it.”

“Because it’s a topic we don’t speak of.” Steve could feel the pout ingraining itself on his face. “She’s a topic we don’t speak of.”

“Were you burned?” Tony asked, deadpan.

Bucky just snorted. “Hard to be burned when he never ever actually made a move. He was too scared when we were in high school, and too much of a coward, and then he went into the movie biz and we haven't heard from her or our other friend ever since. Stevie was absolutely enchanted by her, to be completely honest with you. It was kind of…how do you say…pathetic?”

“I wasn’t pathetic.” Protesting felt like he was a broken record. “It just was never the right time, and now she’s gone and I’m still pining over her like an absolute idiot. It’s just like- it’s like- God, she was just perfect. She had this laugh that she had only for me and Macy and Bucky, and it was that kind of soft subtle that just bubbles up and- God, her hair, and her eyes, and her cheekbones, and the way she always wore soft pink lipstick. I just- she was absolutely everything.” 

“So…” Tony held up his phone. “Look her up on Facebook. Reach out. Get closure or something.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Jesus, Steve.” Sighing softly, Tony pointed at him. “You cannot lecture me about how I need to branch out and date, and then in the next month or so you reveal that you’ve been in love with the same girl since high school and you won’t reach out. Man- you need to reach out. Have you even had a serious relationship since her?”

“Oh, please-” Bucky snorted and Steve got the overwhelming feeling to rip off his prosthetic arm and beat the shit out of him with it. “Stevie’s practically still a virgin-”

“I am not!” Steve’s cheeks felt hot, and he scowled. “I’m not. I’ve slept with plenty of women. I’m Steve fucking Rogers, Sexiest Man Alive. I’ve had plenty of experience. But if you guys must pry, then no. Technically I haven’t been in a serious romantic relationship. Or- or any romantic relationship that lasted beyond a week. But- but that’s okay!” 

“Jesus Christ.” Tony shook his head again. “You’re worse than me, you know that?”

“Okay- that’s not very fair. Just because I’ve never been in a relationship that lasted any longer than a week, and I try to stay away from sleeping with people because I’m kind of nervous about performance in the bedroom- which is no one’s business but my own! Bucky, stop laughing at me!- I’m a fully functioning adult who has fully functioning feelings and thoughts and opinions. I could be in a romantic relationship if I choose, but I’ve never ever found someone I was really interested in beyond one and even more importantly than that, it's okay! A lot of people live their lives without a romantic partner and feel perfectly happy and fulfilled. And some people don’t even experience romantic attraction. So- so- me only having ever been really romantically invested in one girl is okay.” His lecture came to an end with a slight intake of breath. “Right?”

“Oh yeah, not shaming you for that.” Bucky smirked, eyebrows waggling. “I’d just like to point out that even though you may be the sexiest man on the planet according to People magazine, I'd like you to know that I’m still the one with the most game.”

Tony huffed. “Oh yeah, Barnes? What game.”

“Plenty of game!” Hesitantly, Bucky offered a grin. “I could show you.”

And just like that, Steve found himself zoning out. He was right. It was perfectly normal and acceptable to still think about a girl who he hadn’t technically seen in twelve years. He just- Peggy was something different than the rest of the world. Everyone else in the world had always made him feel a little uncomfortable in his skin- even Bucky, and Tony, and Sam, and everyone he was best friends with now. Peggy didn’t. Peggy Carter just made him sink into the fact he was himself and it was nice. 

That was okay. Wanting that back was okay. Wanting to be able to feel like himself 24/7 in a world where he always had either felt too small or too big for his own skin was okay. He’d just- he’d have to move on eventually, but he wouldn’t yet. He wouldn’t do that yet. He couldn't do that yet. 

Because Peggy wasn’t the type of girl someone could just move on from. Once you had Peggy Carter in your heart, she burrowed there and stayed there and was there forever. The lingering pangs of want and care and love would never go away fully, no matter how fulfilling other relationships were. And- and to be honest, ever since he had met Peggy, he had only ever pictured a future with her. 

And now he was thirty six, waiting for that future to come still. 

He was okay with that. 

No matter how pathetic that was. 

Because it was Peggy.

[A compilation of Tweets: 

First Tweet reads; 

Hey guys! Just a reminder to donate your money/time if you can to the Avengers Initiative Program. My dad has been working really really hard on, working with both the Marvel team and the hospital’s team to get everything ready for our biggest volunteer effort yet. Link in bio!

Peter Stark {✓} @P.Stark

The second Tweet is another one from Peter, but this time attached with four images. 

One is an image of four-year-old Peter and Tony at a food drive, doing their part, and looking happy too. The next is of a probably a seven-year-old Peter, in a sweater with a dreidel on it, standing in front of one of the biggest piles of toys, holding a sign reading ‘happy holidays from my family to yours!’ clearly having participated in a toy drive of some sort. The next is eleven-year-old Peter and his dad working at an old folks home in the summer. Another is a screencap from the promo video of the Avengers Initiative Program. 

The text under it reads; 

My dad has always been extremely big on the idea of us volunteering together and using our platforms to benefit others. Anyway- I’m really really proud of him for taking on this endeavor and spearheading our newest volunteer organization. 

Peter Stark {✓} @P.Stark]

Stan Peter Stark  @MakeMeMollyStark

A n e w a y we STAN a king who cares about people. We LOVE @P.Stark in this world. 

9.3 retweets and comments    17k likes

“And you don’t think there’s anything we can do?”

Harley pretended not to be listening to his godmother and doctor talk. Scrolling through his phone, he almost found himself smiling despite the pain in his chest. Peter Stark had lived streamed him and Ned Leeds trying to play Minecraft, and the two of them had made a fool of themseleves until Harry Osborn- fashion model, designer, and all around fucking hilarious internt personality- came in to show them how it was done. Clips had been circling around fandom twitter sense, calling on the three boys to start a Minecraft YouTube series. The idea of seeing Harry Potter, Spider-Man, and a fashion king work together and collaborate on Minecraft content was just too funny. 

“For now,” Doctor Palmers hummed, “We just need to see what this means. Harley’s had an incredibly good year, Peg. This newest development is a roadblock, yeah, but that doesn't necessarily mean it’s worsening. As far as we can tell, it's not. Just a flare up, not an end of the world event.”

“It is an end of the world event for me, Christine.” Peggy’s voice was sharp, and even though his back was to the door he could picture how she looked. 

She had probably been outside of the hospital for a smoke, before coming back in when she knew they would be done with the extensive examinations he had to go through every time he checked back in to the hospital. She would be restless, manicured hands tapping on the seam of her pencil skirt, purse long since discarded into Harley’s usual room. 

He didn’t like that he always made Peggy like this. 

He didn’t like that his heart problems flared up whenever they had just calmed down. 

He didn't like any of it. 

God, he hated hospital beds. Focusing harder on his screen, he retweeted a pretty edit of the Winter Soldier and Captain America. ‘Friends till the end of the line.’ 

“But it's not for him,” Doctor Palmer soothed his aunt. “He’s not hurt or dying. His heartrate just got too fast and we want to monitor him until the pain stops, and then a little longer while we wait for him to adjust to his new dosage of medication. Okay?”

“It’s not-”

“It’s okay enough for the situation.”

Peggy’s sigh- like her voice- was sharp, and tired. “Okay. Thank you, Christine.”

“No problem, Peg.”

Silence fell, and Peggy slipped back into the room. 

For a moment Harley hoped they wouldn’t talk about it. His heart racing too fast, the fact he was back in the hospital after only two months of being out, his eavesdropping, how he hadn’t told her immediately and instead just collapsed. For a moment, he thought they weren’t going to talk about it. 

Then Peggy spoke and it broke the silence. 

“You absolutely have to start telling me when these things happen, Harley.”

“I thought it was okay,” he protested, voice quiet even in his own head. Examinations always made him tired, if he was honest. “I thought it was all okay. I thought ‘oh, I watched a scary YouTube video, and my heart is racing, but it’ll calm down’ and then it didn’t. But I kept thinking it would. I didn’t mean to pass out on you, honestly.”

“That's the problem, Harley.” He winced at the grimness in her voice, struggling to sit up and meet her eyes. “You didn’t mean too, you didn’t think, and you were doing something that makes your heart race in the first place. You have to be more careful than that. You know that.”

“I know- but-” 

“No buts, Harley David Keener.” Peggy’s voice was even sharper than it had been when she was talking to his doctor. “This was absolutely irresponsible and I’m upset with you for it.”

“I just-”

“No! I don’t want to hear you say that you don’t know why you didn’t come to find me when your heart didn’t stop racing. I don’t want to hear how you just wanted to watch something despite knowing it’d raise your heartbeat. I don’t want to hear it. You were five when you got this diagnosis, and you have had twelve whole years to figure out ways to avoid it-” Her voice broke. Harley faltered. “And then you disregard those. Do you know how scary it is, to be working in my office, hear a thud, and go to find you only to find you on the floor passed out? You could have been seriously affected, Harley!”

“But I wasn’t!” He hesitated. “And I- I- I’m sorry. It was wrong not to come to you, and it was to watch a horror video. It was stupid, and I shouldn’t have done it. I really, really should have gone to you the second I felt my heart racing, and I shouldn’t have let it build. I’m sorry, Peg.”

Peggy evaluated his words, lips quirking into a small frown, brow intense as she evaluated the apology, before finally sighing and softening up. “Oh, alright. Just- you need to be more careful, Harley. You may only be seventeen, but you need to start looking out for this more. You go to college after this year, and I- I won’t be around to watch and make sure you’re getting everything taken care of, Harley.”

“I know that, I do.” Chewing at his bottom lip he looked down. “I just- I don’t know. My favorite YouTuber released it, and I thought since it was tagged comedy, it’d be okay. I should’ve known that the comedy came from how he screams at jumpscares and not actual comedy. It was really stupid, I just- I thought it would be fine.”

“And that's okay just- be more careful.”

He nodded. Peggy kept her eyes trained on him. 

It’d been five years since his mom died, but he still hated the realization that every time he was in the hospital, all Peggy saw was his mom withering away. He knew he looked like her- he looked more like her than he did his shithead of a dad- all blonde waves and blue eyes and freckles. His mom was tanner though, he was always fairly pale these days. Something about not going outside, unlike his mom who lived to be in the sunshine and outdoors and around people. 

It was a shame to think of how she’d died in a hospital bed, in the cold winter night, with only her son and her best friend at her side. Someone like her had deserved more than the world. 

Swallowing, Harley shook his head. “I think it’ll be okay. They’re right, you know. I’ve had a pretty great year.”

“Mhmm, yes you have.” Peggy blinked the grief out of her eyes, along with a few tears, and offered him a small grin. “I’m almost inclined to believe that you landed yourself in this fine hospital here just so that you could meet all your favorite Marvel heroes. Am I right?”

“No way! As if I’d wanna be a part of their publicity stunt.” Peggy's small grin grew wider, and he grinned back. “Now, if say Ned Leeds was coming, instead of Peter Stark, and Steve Rogers, and whoever else, that’d be a different story. If Ned Leeds was coming, I would do absolutely anything to assure myself the chance to meet him. But no, it's just the Avengers cast, and therefore what landed me in the hospital this time was just pure, unadulterated dumbassery.”

Peggy laughed, and Harley counted it as a small victory, despite the weakness of it. 

“You, Harley, are perhaps the biggest Harry Potter nerd I have ever met. You claim to hate the way fans treat actors, and yet here you are talking about your precious Ned Leeds.”

“Because its Ned Leeds, Peggy!” he gushed, grinning even wider than he had been before. “He’s like- his portrayal of Harry Potter defined a generation, and the very fact that he gets to do other projects like voicing BB-8 in Star Wars, and he’s a voice actor, and he’s cool, and- listen! Peggy, he’s like- God, you’re so old, who defined your generation of actors?”

“I am barely thirty five!” Peggy shushed him, but her shoulders were much more relaxed then they had been at the start of the conversation. “That’s not old at all, Harley. In fact, some may say I’m a millennial.”

“You’re not a millennial,” Harley deadpanned back. “You’re ancient. You may only be ‘barely thirty five’ but you have the spirit of a WWII spy who punched Hitler fifty times, and blew up Nazi bases. You may be young, but you have the same exact energy as someone who has lived a thousand lives in a thousand different time periods. You saw the Romans crucify Jesus. Don’t lie to me.”

“Oh, Harley, stop assuming every British person in the world is friends with the Doctor and goes on magical time and space adventures.”

“Am I wrong that you have?”

“...We’re getting off topic. We were talking about your obsession with one Ned Leeds.”

“Do we really have to go down this road again?” Sighing, he put a hand over his forehead dramatically. “I’m so very tired, Peg. I’ve had a long day and thinking about the most handsome boy in the world stresses me out. He’s just too handsome to exist.”

“You’re absolutely the biggest dork I have ever met in the history of the world, you know that? Neither me or your mother have ever crushed on an actor the way you have been following Ned Leeds since you were ten and we took you to the first Harry Potter movie.”

“He was perfect, okay!”

“Oh, obviously.” She rolled her eyes, shaking her head fondly. “Ridiculous, Harley. That’s what you are.” 

“That's a fair point- at least I’m not pinning after-”

Peggy coughed, and he watched her eyes narrow. “Finish that sentence and your heart disease won’t take you out, I will.”

“Fine, okay.” He held his hands up innocently. “Now that you’ve threatened me, do you want to be a wonderful amazing fantastic godmother and please go get my Percy Jackson book out of your purse so I can read until lights out?” 

“Oh alright.” Peggy was still pretending to be annoyed, but she had softened a lot since they had started this argument. “But read it aloud. I’m going to try to get some work done and I’d like some background noise.”

Propping himself up, he reached for the book as she held it out, flipping open the first page, and began to read. 

Chapter Text

[Still image of the Avengers cast and crew. Peter is front and center, squished between Tony and Steve, the trio being the main focus despite the fact that the rest of the cast is standing near them, pressed close together, clearly having been posed for this photo. Tony is looking at “Steve,” or more accurately, right behind Steve where Bucky is grinning at a camera with a soft smile. No one but the cast and crew notice that, as most of the fans classify it as a ‘SteveTony’ IRL moment. 

They’re each- individually- holding a sign that when put together shows the symbol for the Avengers, and the logo for the Avengers Initiative Program. It's clearly a promo image, taken by professionals. It's shiny, and polished, and some of the cast's grins look fake, but no one would notice unless they knew them. Overwhelmingly, it's an image that's just absolutely dedicated to convincing people of the Avengers Initiative Program.]

Peter Stark {✓} @P.Stark

T o d a y !!! today is the day, guys! The Avengers initiative program launches today, and I’m so so excited. I’m really happy to be able to be a part of this, and I’m even happier to be helping kids and their families. 

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Steve really loved kids. 

There was something about the way children just lit up, and went on and on, and were able to just be happy that made Steve absolutely adore children. These kids at the hospital were no different. Each of them had this spark about them in that moment, despite the chronic illnesses and the pain that a lot of the kids went through, they all had this joy about them. 

It could’ve been the fact that there were multiple famous actors there, talking to them, interacting with them, being every much the heroes they pretended to be on screen. But Steve liked to think they were just giving the kids a chance to be kids. That was important to him- the idea that kids were able to be kids, no matter the situations of their life. There was also a part of him that understood. He got it. When he was a kid, back when he had been scrawny with lungs that liked to collapse, and asthma, and breakable bones, and a whole slew of other problems, he had been these kids. 

He saw himself in them. In the way some kids couldn’t move out of bed, how others wheezed whenever they breathed, the slow careful movements in the older kids that understood how not to aggravate their issues. Steve saw so much of the kid he had been years and years ago. Things were different then- medication was slower, and things like this event almost never happened. When he was a kid, he had never imagined being in the same room as his favorite actors just because he was in the hospital, but the way that these kids all lit up brightly at the sight of him and his co-stars, well…it put life in perspective. 

“Mr. Rogers,” a small girl breathed, eyes wide, hands trembling, “Are you really a superhero?”

He smiled at her, and knelt down to meet her eyes. “I’m trying to be. Are you?”

“Am I a superhero?” She giggled, like the answer was obvious. “Of course not! I’m just a kid!”

“Really? And why can’t you be a superhero, kiddo?”

“Well…” She blinked. This question had clearly never come across her mind yet. Why couldn’t she be a superhero? “Because ‘m not big or strong or tough. That's why.”

“Can I let you in on a secret, little miss?” As Steve lowered his voice to an overdramatic whisper, his heart soared when she giggled again. “I’m not very strong or tough either. That's not how you be a superhero. How you be a superhero is being kind and honest and never ever giving up. Do you think you can do that?” 

The little girl nodded eagerly, eyes even wider than they’d been at the beginning of their conversation, and she breathed out again, “I think I can be that. I think I can be that!”

“Then you can be a superhero.” Steve offered a hand, remembering how he had liked to be treated like an adult, back when he was as small as this kid. “You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

“Samara.” The girl- Samara- beamed. “My name’s Samara Issa, Mr. Rogers.”

Samara Issa. He’d have to remember that name, have to remember this interaction, and do everything he could to help this little girl succeed. “ Shhh- Mr. Rogers was my father. You, miss Samara, can call me Steve. Stevie, if you’re nice to me.”

“I’m nice! I’m the nicest girl here!” 

“You’re the nicest girl here?” He faked a gasp. “Well, no wonder you’re a superhero, Samara! Superheros are always nice.”

Samara beamed up at him, because even kneeling down he towered over the small girl. Suddenly, in a flash, she frowned sharply and her tiny brow furrowed. “But- Mister Steve, how can I be a superhero when I’m scared?”

“Oh, Samara-” His heart panged, and he said slowly, “Tell me what you're scared of first?”

“Well- I’m scared of the loud bangy machine they make me go through sometimes, and I’m scared of the dark, and I’m always scared Harley- he’s my friend, he’s the biggest kid here- isn’t gonna come back, and-” She took a deep breath. “I’m scared I’m gonna lose all my hair once they start chemo- chemother-apy.”

“And do you let those fears stop you, kiddo?”

She paused to think about it. “I still gotta go into the machine. And Gracie doesn’t like night lights, so we don’t have light in our room when bedtime rolls around. And Harley- Harley always comes to play every Friday even when he’s not here. And- and I don’t know what I’m gonna do about my hair, but I know it's gonna happen.”

“You know how I said all it takes to be a hero was being kind, honest, and never giving up?” Pausing dramatically, he waited for her to nod before continuing. “I missed one thing- one very very important thing. Being brave in the face of your fears. Of course you’re a hero, Samara. Look at you! You sleep in the dark, and you go into the machine, and you always know when Harley’s gonna play. And if you lose your hair, you know what you’ll do?”

“What’ll I do?”

“You’ll be brave, and you’ll face it.” Memories of being just like her, terrified of the hospital and all the cold sharp ways it had tore through Steve, but he just smiled. “And I think that makes you a better superhero than I could ever be.”

“Oh.” Samara gaped at him, then launched herself towards him, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I’m a hero too, Mr. Steve! I’m a hero too!”

This was another reason he loved kids. This girl had been through so much. He could tell from the way her voice had trembled when she mentioned chemotherapy that it was something raw and barely healed over for her- and yet here she was, thanking him for telling her she was a hero. That pure blind optimism and hope, things that people forgot as they grew up. He wished he could always see the world through the eyes of a kid who just wanted to be a hero. 

Gently, he hugged back. “You’re welcome, Samara.”

Samara pulled away to chatter and spew different facts about superheroes at him. He pretended not to know each and every one, just so she could explain in the best detail she could about what she meant. If asked about this, he’d deny it, but he was definitely paying more attention to this kid than the others. He couldn’t be blamed for that. She reminded him of himself. 

Steve was so enthralled with Samara explaining why Batman was better than Superman, that he almost didn’t notice Tony waving him over in the corner. Steve shook his head, and motioned to the little girl who was still rambling about the pros of the Batsuit vs. the cons of Superman. Tony nodded, and motioned him to come over anyway, manner clearly telling Steve that he could come back to the conversation if he wanted. 

Sighing, he turned his attention to Samara, interrupting her gently. “Hey, kiddo? Tony- Iron Man- wants me to come over to him, alright? I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Alright Mr. Steve!” she chirped, and looked around to find a friend to continue rambling too. 

Moving away from her, he felt a low pang of guilt. He didn’t want to leave the kid to talk to herself, and he was gonna be upset with Tony for pulling him away from the most riveting conversation he had ever had the pleasure to listen to. Scowling, he approached his friend. “This better be good, Tony, I was having a conversation.

“As cute as it is that you absolutely love kids, Steve,” Tony placed a hand on his shoulder, starting to guide him away from the kids meeting area, “I really wanted you to meet Margaret. She’s the person that put this all together for me, remember? We’ve been talking a lot and I think the two of you would really get along.”

“You dragged me away from actual volunteer work to talk to some dame? Not cool, Tony.”

“Just admit you have trouble existing in the same space as women and get over it, Steven.” Sighing sharply, Tony pressed his hand to Steve’s back to guide him more. “But no- I thought you’d want to meet the organizer of this, too. I get the feeling you’re gonna be one of the more active members of this group.”

He felt his ears tip red. “You know my history with hospitals. You know exactly why I like this volunteer program.”

“And I’m not bashing that! I just want you to meet Margaret.”

“If this is you or Bucky trying to set me up, I swear-” 

“It's not, I promise,” his friend soothed, then beamed. “Oh, Margaret! Over here!”

Steve stopped breathing. 

When Tony had told him about ‘Margaret’ he had expected..he had expected someone like pepper. Maybe sleek brown hair, a businesslike manner to them, all sharp edges and cold words. He was expecting someone to run a program as vast as this and have that reflect in their very soul. 

He hadn’t expected for ‘Margaret’ to turn around, and reveal that she was Peggy Carter. 

His Peggy. 

The girl that he had loved for years- for decades even. She looked- she looked like she hadn’t aged a bit. Her hair wasn’t as long, and it wasn’t falling in soft waves anymore, instead curled in a vintage pin curl style. Her high cheekbones didn’t have any blush on them, because Peggy had never liked makeup- except now, instead of the absence of all makeup, she wore mascara and bright red lipstick. 

She was every bit as beautiful as the time that Steve had last seen her at their college graduation.

Peggy’s eyes flicked to him, then back to Tony. “Honestly, Tony, I’ve told you, call me-”

“Peggy,” Steve choked, her name falling from his lips like petals from a rose. “Holy shit.”

“Steven.” She offered a smile, and it took everything in him not to burst into flames at the way she still said his name, her accent rolling the letters into something softer than should be allowed. Steven. Peggy had always loved calling him Steven. “It’s been a few years. How are you?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, he fought through his brain, combing for words. “I- uh- I’m good. I’m good. Turned out being an art collector wasn’t for me.”

“Ah, yes, now you’re a multimillion dollar actor.” Her voice was teasing and soft and for a split second, Steve felt like he was back in high school. 

He was once again barley 5’2, skinny as a beanpole, but so, so ready to fight. He was angry and fiery and everyone seemed to ignore that because he was the sickly kid that missed weeks on end of class, but still got good grades. No one knew his secret weapon. The brilliant, popular, and beautiful Peggy Carter who always had time to spend with him, always stayed by his side, always helped him catch up. 

Always saw him. 

Then, the moment was broken by Tony’s voice, and he was once again, too big for his body and too overwhelmed for his mind. 

“Wait wait wait, you two know each other?”

“Know each other,” Steve managed, the words coming out as a statement instead of a repeat of Tony’s question. 

Peggy, because she was still Peggy, she was still his Peg, still the woman he loved, just laughed softly. “Know each other indeed. We were once best friends, back in high school and college. We fell a little out of touch over the years, but, I’d like to imagine some scraps of friendship are still there.”

“Yeah.” Why couldn’t he breathe? Why couldn’t he focus on anything other than the way that her laugh felt like he was coming home for the first time in the longest time? Why couldn’t he think coherent thoughts? “We were really good friends.”

“The best, I’d say,” Peggy murmured, and for a split second he thought that there was something more in her voice too. “Say, Steven, is James around? I’d love to catch up with both of you, after all. It’s been a long long few years.”

Steve nodded, and Tony waved Bucky over. 

In his mind, Steve was still taking in every detail of Peggy Carter. Of his Peggy. Holy shit.

S a r a  h s a y s s h u t u p   @sg26

WHY PETER STARK IS THE BEST, A THREAD BY ME. 

12.3k retweets and comments    14k likes

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S a r a  h s a y s s h u t u p   @sg26

FOR STARTERS: 

Peter Stark is genuinely just such a sweetheart? He’s the kinda guy who just actually and genuinely loves people. His volunteer efforts are fantastic and he’s just-  hes just the best. Like what could be better than someone who looks like that also being the biggest sweetheart in the world? 

8k retweets and comments    13.5k likes

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S a r a  h s a y s s h u t u p   @sg26

Not to mention the fact that he’s really funny and genuine. Unlike some other actors I hear about, I just know that Peter Stark is genuinely the person he shows us. He controls his social media accounts and he’s the one that interacts with us. He’s just fhdasjfgfhaj

7.3k retweets and comments   11.9k likes

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S a r a  h s a y s s h u t u p   @sg26

This is gonna go on forever so click here for a link to my essay on why Peter Stark is the best: docs.google.com/document/d/16Ohp5ylvCqhfjdskl7ufdf90n

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Peggy was talking to Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes. 

Peggy was talking to Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes. 

Had something changed from that morning when she had stood up and proudly declared that she wasn’t going to give in to her urge and she wasn’t going to go up to Steve or harass him? Had something faltered in her mind? What the fuck? 

Harley was confused. Since the beginning of this program, Peggy had denied that she wanted to see Steve again- or, well, she hadn’t denied it per say, but she had heavily implied that she didn’t care if she saw him again. It was always something like, ‘Honestly, Harley, he probably won’t remember me, or care.’ Or, ‘Harley, drop it.’ Or, ‘Harley, you can’t expect me to go over to him in a professional setting and try my hardest to catch up. That’s just plain unprofessional and I won’t stand for unprofessionalism.’ 

Peggy was a big fat liar. 

A part of him didn’t want to go over there. That was the part of him that didn’t like either Steve Rogers or Bucky Barnes. That was the part of him that had sent them a letter, informing them of Macy’s death and telling them that one of her last wishes was for them to attend her funeral, only for them not to respond. To ignore it. That was the most logical part of him, the part of him that logically realized that going over there, looking like their dead best friend and calling Peggy his godmother wouldn’t go over too well. 

The other part of him saw this as the absolutely most perfect opportunity to absolutely embarrass Peggy. She always came in at the worst moments when he flirted with boys, so it was time. Time for some goddamn payback. Sure, was it a really bad idea that would most likely leave him to deal with a few people he didn’t want to deal with and bring up questions about why he looked like his dead mom. And sure, Peggy would 100% harass him for it, and make sure his life was living hell for the next few weeks. And sure, Tony Stark was there too, and Harley had been looking up to him for years, and embarrassing Peggy in front of him would probably also embarrass Harley too. 

But none of that mattered because he was about to absolutely obliterate his godmother. He slid up to her, leaning into her side. 

“Peggy! Isn’t this your old high school friend?”

“Hi, Harley.” Peggy’s tone of voice proved that she knew exactly what he was doing. “Yes. This is Steve and Bucky.”

“Oh wow!” He blinked, and then grinned, trying to hide the fact that he was about to pull out every single embarrassing fact about Peggy he could. “Isn’t Steve the one who you-”

“Harley. Keener.”

“Aw now, I’m just sayin’, Peg, isn’t he-” Peggy stepped on his foot and he fought back a yelp. “Rude! Rude! Peggy, I just wanted to ask if he was the one you-”

Peggy stepped on his foot again, hissing this time, “You’re about to be grounded , Harley.”

“You’re the one who’s stepping on a poor and dying kids foot! You should have some goddamn empathy, Peggy-” 

“Empathy.” She snorted and shook her head, then turned her attention back to Steve and Bucky, motioning to Harley. “Ignore the drama king over there.” 

Steve choked slightly, eyes wide, and flicking between Peggy and Harley. “You- he-”

“No way,” Bucky was just staring at him, eyes trailing over his face, and once again the logical side took over.“No way. No- Peggy, Tell me Macy didn’t have a son with that dickwad .”

Silence passed through all of them. Tony Stark- oh god that was Tony Stark- shot a glare at Bucky, and shifted to nudge him hard in the rib.  “You’re the one being a dickwad, Barnes.”

“And that son is right here.” Harley tried to keep his voice even, but it wavered as he finished the sentence. He cleared his throat. “And yeah. She did have a kid with that dickwad, as you want to put it.” 

“I’m sorry.” Bucky rubbed his side, eyes staring at Harley like he wasn’t real. “I just- I’m sorry, kid. That was really rude- I just, Macy never- I thought she and I- but she ended up with Jack and had you? And Jack was the biggest fucking dick around. I didn’t ever think Macy would be that stupid-” 

Clenching his hands, Harley glared sharply at him. “Don’t fucking talk about my mom like that. Sure, my dad was a dick, but don’t you dare call my mom stupid. Not when she only ever said nice things about you, Bucky.” 

“And no matter what Macy did or didn’t do,” Peggy shifted so that she was slightly in front of Harley, glare sharper that Harley could ever hope to make his, eyes blazing, “You shouldn’t be so disrespectful to people, James. Yes, Jack was an asshole but Harley is his own person.”

Steve was still staring at Peggy, eyes wide. “No hey- Buck- Buck didn’t mean it like that. Um-” His gaze flicked to Harley. “Harley, right? We were friends with your mom back in high school.”

“Jesus,” Tony muttered, looking between them all. “Who don’t you know, Steve? You know Margaret and her godson?”

“Not Harley.” Bucky shook his head, still fucking ignoring him even though he was the topic of Bucky’s conversation. “We never met Harley.”

“Yeah, you went and fucked off to the army and broke my mom's heart.” Harley spat the words like venom, reveling in the way Barnes looked at him, eyes hollow. “Of course, she had me a year later, so she didn’t dwell on you and mourn you. She was just happy to have me in her life because she knew how to care about people, unlike you.”

“Kid-” Another sharp jab from Tony. “Harley- I wasn’t trying to- to say anything like that. I promise- if we, me and Stevie both, if we had known she had you, we would’ve reached out. We both care about Macy. We both love her.” 

Care. Present tense. Fuck. They didn’t know. They didn’t know, and Harley was going to punch Bucky Barnes. He was going to punch Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers and he wanted out. He wanted out. He needed out. If he didn’t get out he was gonna punch two of Hollywood's A-listers in front of his favorite actor in the entire world. Peggy seemed to sense this, placing a calming hand on his shoulder. “Go take a lap Harley. I’m gonna catch up.”

“Don’t tell them yet,” he spat, looking at the floor. “They don’t deserve to know.”

She nodded, even if Harley knew that every single part of her disagreed. He didn’t care if she thought that hiding the fact that his mom was dead wasn’t technically ethical or even nice. If they wanted to know that Macy Keener had gone to heaven, then they should’ve gone to the fucking funeral like Peggy and Harley. They should’ve been there, holding onto the two of them because they were both broken by Macy’s death. They should’ve been there. They shouldn't have just not shown up. That wasn't okay. 

None of this was okay.

His hospital room was still empty, the one he always had. Perks of being an older resident. Perks of being here seven months out of the year. He was just- God, he was tired. What right did Bucky Barnes have to say that about his mom? He didn’t even have the right to speak about her, let alone judge her actions! And- and- his mom had written to both Steve and Bucky about Harley. He wasn’t some dirty secret that Macy had to hide from everyone. Macy told every single person she could! Fuck- Peggy had rolled up into his hospital room, and now had the framed photos hanging up in her office of Macy in her hospital gown holding her baby and Peggy siting on the side of the bed cooing at Harley. They had no right to judge his mom. No right. 

He threw himself onto the bed, trying not to feel like he was being an overdramatic asshole. Bucky had just seemed startled at Harley’s sudden appearance but that didn’t change the fact that Harley did exist and he shouldn’t be a dick about it. Even Tony had thought that! Tony Stark had elbowed Bucky Barnes because of how rude he was being! Everyone could see that his actions were cruel and unfair and...and Harley was trying really, really hard not to be mad. 

Breathing out shakily, he closed his eyes. A few minutes of peace and quiet and breathing and he’d be okay. He’d be okay. This would all be a bad dream, and it’d be okay. 

His hospital door opened. He fought the urge to jerk up, instead opening his eyes slowly. He had expected to see Peggy, instead, he came face to face with Peter Stark, Spider-Man, son of his idol, and all around sweetheart of the Marvel fandom. Harley opened his mouth to say something, and then he looked- actually looked - at Peter.

Peter looked like he was on the verge of tears. His eyes were wet and misty, lined with red. His entire body was trembling hard, and his face was flushed deeply. He wasn’t breathing right- something Harley was very familiar with. This was the beginning of a panic attack. 

Swinging himself back up into a sitting position, Harley spoke gently. “Peter? My name's Harley.”

“I-” Peter gagged, the word coming out like it hurt, and his eyes grew even wider. “I’m-”

“You’re panicking right now,” Harley murmured, remembering how Peggy had always talked him down from his own panic attacks. “And that’s okay. Can I touch you, Peter?”

The other boy seemed to understand that talking wasn't the best idea for him right now, and instead nodded, trembling even harder. Harley stood, gentle hands reaching for Peter, and guiding him to the bed. Sitting him down, he touched Peter’s wrist as softly as he could. “It’s gonna be okay, alright? I’ve got you.”

The simple act of touch seemed to help drain the tension out of Peter’s body, so he kept doing it, letting his fingers trace gentle patterns over the skin of Peter’s arms. The other boy shuddered, but his breathing became a little better. Harley hummed.

 “Can I tell you about my favorite type of ice cream?”

Peter let out a small huff of a laugh, and nodded, eyes falling to Harley’s face. 

“I really really love mint chocolate chip ice cream,'' Harley admitted, and laughed when Peter’s nose scrunched up in disgust. “I know I know. It’s always a hit or miss, I think, because me and my mom both really really loved it, but my godmother, Peggy, hates it with a passion. It’s something that I love though- and I can’t tell if it's because I love mint’s taste or like chocolate chips. I think it's the mint because I don’t really like cookie dough or chocolate chip ice cream and that's miles more popular and well-liked than mint chocolate chip. You know?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Peter breathed out, and the words came a little easier this time. His face was no longer as red, and his eyes were still trained on Harley’s. “Yeah. Actually, no- I’m uh, I’m allergic to mint so I don’t think I’ve ever actually tried mint chocolate chip ice cream.”

“Oh, you poor soul. I’m so sorry. You’re missing out on the best thing in the entire world.”

“That's a little overdramatic.”

“Hey, I’m a dying kid, I deserve to be a little dramatic.”

“Oh.” Peter’s face fell but that panic didn’t come back, “Shit- um, I’m sorry I broke into your room and had um, whatever that was. I didn’t mean to.”

Harley swiped his thumb over the beginning of Peter’s palm, “No, hey. No. You were having something like a panic attack. I get it. Hospitals can be overwhelming, and days like today even more so. You should see the absolute bloodbath that goes on here during Christmas time. Everyone fighting to get to our Rent-a-Santa.”

“That sounds terrifying.” Peter laughed, and Harley grinned at him. “I can’t imagine that. Like at all.”

“Oh you don’t want to. Children hungry for presents are absolute killers. Last Christmas, I got absolutely trampled by the younger kids, eager for Santa to tell them what they’d get that year, or give them a gift, or rate their Christmas list.”

“Do they really do that?”

“Mhmm. It’s scary.” 

“I can imagine,” Peter said, then frowned. “Well- no, I can’t imagine and you said I didn’t want to either.”

“And I'm right,” Harley murmured softly, rubbing circles where he had just swiped his thumb. “Do you wanna talk about why you were freaking out?”

Peter deflated, but didn’t protest. He shifted his hand so his fingers were linked with Harley’s, “I guess I just- I just- The noises and lights of the hospital, and there were a lot of kids looking up to me, and I- I didn’t know how to respond I guess. It was just a lot.”

“Okay, well,” Harley gave his hand a gentle squeeze, “You did the right thing by removing yourself from the situation and finding somewhere quite. Plus, you got to meet me which really is probably the biggest bonus you’ve ever had.”

“You know,” Peter breathed out, sinking slightly closer to him, “I think it is. Um- my name's Peter by the way. Peter Stark?”

“I know,” Harley teased back, grinning. “Harley Keener. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Every word Peter said sounded like he was exhaling them, and his eyes were still stuck on Harley. “This is gonna sound really really stupid but do you like Star Wars?”

“I love Star Wars.”

“Oh, thank God.” Peter glanced at the door. “I know I should go back out there, and you probably wouldn’t wanna, but I have all the episodes downloaded on my phone if you wanna-”

“I’ll do you one better, Peter,” Harley offered, grinning, “You can come lay back in bed with me, and we can watch on my laptop. I have them downloaded too. One condition.”

“Yeah?”

“We’re watching Episode One.”

Peter let out a noise of protest but didn’t vocalize it, and Harley let the other boy take the lead and shift them so they were pressed side to side, laptop balancing between them. Soft chatter and the sounds of the greatest franchise in the world made Harley melt like butter against his newfound friend. 

It was a much nicer way to end the day than what had started it. 

[A candid photo of Steve and Bucky playing with a little boy taken from earlier that day. Steve is grinning, and looks completely composed. He’s in a tight white shirt and a sweater, and they look absolutely stunning, like something that would be in a fashion magazine. The focus is 100% more on Steve than it is on Bucky, and it's kinda obvious that whoever took the picture was trying to get Steve’s best angles and shots. He looks put together.]

Marvel Entertainment {✓}  @Marvel

The first day of our new Avengers Initiative program is a massive success! Find out more about it through the link in our bio!

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Steve was pretty sure he was going to bash his head in with a brick and put himself in a coma, never to be woken up again. If he was lucky, he could be the dead lover trope. He’d die dramatically in the first act and the heroine would spend the second act mourning him, the third falling for someone else but remembering him, and the fourth thinking how he would’ve wanted this to happen. He’d always be on Peggy's mind but he’d be lucky. He’d die. That would be the utmost perfect thing that could happen to him right in this second.

Because he met Peggy Carter again. 

He met the girl he’d been in love with since the dawn of time again. He’d gotten to talk to her, and they shook hands, and her touch was still as soft and gentle as he remembered and he wanted to burn that memory into his skin. They had exchanged numbers and promised to catch up, and he had barely been able to make out any words. Which- total wasn’t his fault. It was totally not his fault. It wasn’t. 

It was just- Peggy reverted him back to his truest form. Her brown eyes had successfully melted him like butter and made him realize just how much he missed being the kid from Brooklyn with a lot of attitude and a lot of fire. Peggy had always made him feel so safe in his own skin, always helped him breathe in a way that no one else in the world could, and she had taken one look at him and solidified that she could do it again. But he wasn’t prepared for it. He wasn’t prepared for Peggy to run her eyes over his face, studying what had changed. 

He was terrified that the man he was today would be one that she didn’t like. 

And then Harley Keener had shown up. Which was…wow. Macy had a son. Macy had a son. He wondered why Macy had never reached out- Peggy had explained Harley was seventeen which meant Macy must have been only nineteen when she had him. Steve and her were still kinda friends, even if they definitely didn’t talk as much- and he and Peggy had been in the same friend group in college too, and he’d never heard a peep from Peggy about it! It all just blew his mind to a level he was definitely not too comfortable with. 

Had Macy and Peggy hid it from him because they didn’t want him to tell Bucky? Steve couldn’t say he fully blamed them after how Bucky had spoken to the kid. He understood being shocked, and he understood that Bucky’s entire world had probably been turned on its side but- still. It wasn’t fair of him to be rude. 

God, his head was spinning. He just- he met his high school love that he spent days and days pinning over constantly! He’d always been so gone on her. And now- now she was right there, an arms length away. She was right there. She was there and he could just imagine how it could be from here. 

Steve Rogers was a household name now. Every magazine he knew of liked calling him the Sexiest Man Alive, and he had grown into his bones. He wasn’t the skinny, scrawny, dweeby Steve Rogers she had known. He was better now . He was cool. He was a fucking movie star. 

And yet a part of him was curling away from that line of logic. Peggy hadn’t been friends with him because he was handsome or sexy. She had always liked him because he was clever, and funny, and an artist. Peggy had been his friend with him because she liked him, not because he was particularly cute or handsome. He wasn’t any of those things back then, and yet they had once stayed up all night talking on the landline about anything and everything. 

The worst part about all of this was the sinking and devastating feeling that he had missed out on a part of her life. He had missed out on so much. Peggy had a godson now- Harley. And in a different timeline where he was a better friend, then he would’ve been just as active in Harley’s life as Peggy was. He had been one of Macy’s best friends and she just hadn’t told him. She hadn’t told him. God that was- hard to process. This was all hard to process. Peggy had grown more beautiful with age, and had family, and a life that didn’t include him which- which was fine. She wasn’t like him. He always knew she wasn’t like him. That was what had been so nice about her. 

She was always the kind of person to look forward. To move on. To power ahead. To stand up for her thoughts and feelings and not accept what she thought was wrong. And Steve...he missed those qualities. Missed how everything had always been equal between them. Missed how she had been able to take all his insecurities and tell him they were stupid because who cared if he was sickly, ill, tiny Steve Rogers? He was a fighter, and he was angry, and he was allowed to be those things. She allowed him to be those things. 

Peggy had opened the door up for him to grow and he had. But he’d also gotten stuck praying that the girl he loved in high school would somehow find a way back to him. 

And then she did. 

So why couldn’t he think of anything to say? Why had he immediately reverted to awkward stuttering and struggling to speak? God he was so- he was so- he was so-

“Hey, stupid,” Tony chided softly, frowning at him from where they were getting coffee in the hospital cafeteria. “You’re thinking too loud, Steve.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He shook his head, shaking those brown curls, and red lips, and high cheekbones out of his mind. “Just- a lot to process.”

“She's the one right? The one Barnes always teases you about, and that you can’t ever seem to get over, and that you never expected to see again. The one you never got to confess to being in love with and you always felt like it was your fault she never knew-”

“Okay, we can stop now, Tony.” Tony just shrugged at him, and he glared back. “Yes, okay. Yes, she’s the one who got away that I’ve obsessed over for years. and - and- why didn’t you warn me!”

Tony poked his arm, “You never showed me a picture, wonderboy. You never told me she went by Peggy. You refused to talk about her.”

“Because I thought it was creepy to still be hung up on feelings from a decade ago!” 

“And now?”

“And now, I- I-” Struggling, he shook his head. “Now Peggy Carter is a stranger to me and I don’t like that. She has a godson. God, Macy has a son. And me and Bucky- we just never knew. We never knew!”

“And I’m pretty sure that was the right call,” Tony said stiffly, looking away from him. “Given how you two reacted to him.”

Reaching out, he grabbed his friend’s hand gently, squeezing it softly. “No, hey. No. We weren’t trying to be rude. Look, I know Buck really came off as a dick when he was talking to Harley and i know I did too but- it was mostly just the shock. Wait till you see what his mom looks like, and you’ll understand just how big of a shock it was to come face to face with her double after years of no contact. It- it was a shock. And it- it made me really sad. I can’t speak for Bucky, but- we missed out on our best friend’s child. That’s-”

“Terrible.” Tony shook his head, but squeezed back. “I guess I understand why you two were so shocked. I do think you owe Harley an apology.”

“I think so too.”

“But this isn’t about a kid that you two were assholes too,” Tony drawled, reminding Steve of the real and tortuous subject they were actually on. “This is about you and miss Peggy Carter.”

“I literally don’t know what to tell you, Tony. I don’t know what to tell you at all. I just- she just-”

“She just?”

Steve took a second, trying to breath and figure out the words in his chest, “There aren’t a lot of people who just…see me for me. Like- I love you, man, and you are probably my closest friend beyond Sam and Buck but even you three can’t see me like she does. And it’s always been that way. I just never have ever had someone who just made me feel so safe in my skin. And she does. She makes me feel like I can breathe . And she’s always been able to do that, you know? She’s always just had this presence that fills me up and I didn’t realize how much I truly missed it until I was standing in that hallway and she was calling me Steven again.

“And then.” Steve took a shuddering breath, and he could feel himself shrinking back into who he was as a teenager. “And then I couldn’t find the right words. I tripped over my own tongue, and repeated things and said ‘um’ and ‘uh’ so many times that I’m just certain she saw me as an idiot. Like fame had somehow gone to my head and now I was nothing but this fame-hungry lunatic that couldn’t talk and had become an idiot by existing. And I couldn’t even deny that that’s what happened if she confronted me about it! Peggy could call me out on how stupid I was in that hallway and I wouldn’t even be able to defend myself because yes ! It was kind of stupid how I stumbled over words and tripped over my own thoughts and it was. It was awful.”

Tony was staring at him, wide-eyed. “Jesus Christ, Steve. Have you gone to a therapist for these thoughts or talked to someone that wasn’t me? Or Barnes?” 

“No, not really,” Steve admitted, rubbing his neck. “I should, shouldn’t I? But it’s- it's not like I don’ like myself or that ’m nervous- it's like- I really want her to like me. I want her to see the value in me. I want her to look at me and think that I’m worth knowing again. I saw her and I just- I want to be in her life again.”

“Then be in her life again.” Tony stated these words like they were the simplest thing in the world, and not something that was tearing him from the inside out again. “Start slowly by reaching out and asking if she wants to talk, or get coffee. Reminisce about the good old days when you were in high school and not famous, and then start bringing up what you two are like now. Be her friend again, before you just declare to her that you’ve been in love with her for years.”

“But I have been in love with her for years.”

“Yeah but does she know that?” Steve couldn’t answer the question, so his friend powered on. “That’s right, she doesn’t. Look, I know what it's like to find that person. To meet someone and just realize that they see you. To feel comfortable existing in the same space as a person and want nothing more than to foster that and cultivate that and help that grow. To want to just be with someone because they make you feel like yourself. I get that. But for now, take it slow. Get to know who you and her are now, and see how that works.”

“Okay. But-” Steve faltered, looking down. “What if it doesn’t work? I’ve been- she’s the girl I loved for so long and-”

“-And if it doesn't work then you finally have closure, Stevie,” Tony hummed softly, squeezing Steve’s hand again, “And I think that's probably gonna be important.”

But Steve wanted it to work. He wanted long nights staying up texting Peggy. He wanted to get her flowers every single Friday and try to get a different bouquet each week with no repeats. He wanted to sweep her off her feet because he could now. He was strong enough now to pick her up and spin her around like he wished he could have done during prom. He wanted so much. And he wasn’t sure how he could get around that aching desire to tell Peggy everything. To tell her that he’d been in love with her back in the day and that now was no different. 

To tell her that he wanted to be a part of her life, and whatever that meant he could handle. He wanted to know her again- just like he wanted to get to know Macy’s son for the very first time. It was all so - so- so... overwhelming. This was all so overwhelming. He wasn’t exactly sure what he cold do beyond waiting and seeing how it played out, however, and he certainly wasn’t sure what he should do about the fact that he now had a chance. 

A chance at what he’d missed the first go around with Peggy.

He let out a shuddering breath. “If you think Peggy Carter’s just the kinda girl you move on from, Tony-”

“I know, Steve.”

“I just-”

“I know.”

“I know you know, because I know that you love people deeply, Tones,” Steve said slowly, “But I don’t think you’ve loved anyone like this. She makes me want to strive to be a better person, a better man, a better everything. She makes me want, Tony. In a way that I don’t think I’ve ever experienced.”

Tony’s eyes flicked to the door, and somehow, Steve knew Bucky had just walked in.He pretended not to notice it, mostly for Tony’s sake. “I understand. Trust me, Stevie, I understand.”

And in that moment he knew Tony did. They were both just lovesick fools, drinking lukewarm coffee in a hospital cafeteria. Tony squeezed Steve’s hand again. At least they had each other.

[A photo of Steve and Tony, towards the end of the day. It's clear it's late by how the sky in the windows is a deep midnight color, and they’re curled on a couch in a hospital room. Tony’s head is tucked into Steve’s neck, and Steve is reading something on his phone over his friend’s shoulder. They’re both clearly at ease, and they also both clearly don’t care that a photo is being taken of them. The two friends seem content just where they are, curled into one another.

The next photo is the everybody stay calm meme from the office.]

𝔖𝔩𝔲𝔱𝔱𝔶 𝔴𝔥𝔬𝔯𝔢   @sssoftshipers

Oh my god- its happening- its happening- everybody stay calm! #IronAmerica!

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“He was really nice.” Peter yawned, head resting on Tony’s shoulder. “Harley. I’m still talking about Harley. He just- he was really, really cool, dad. I’m really happy I got his number.”

Tony hummed, running a soothing hand through his son's hair. “You two gonna be friends?”

“Yeah, I hope so.” Peter yawned again. “He’s really nice.”

He fought back a smile as his son curled in closer to him, clearly exhausted from the day's volunteer events. They were finally back home and now they were just waiting for Steve, Sam, and Bucky to get back from where they’d decided to get take-out from. He wasn’t sure Peter was gonna actually make it to dinner time with how sleepy he was. The kid had been yawning and struggling to stay awake since he got back from hanging out with his new best friend, Harley Keener. 

Which Tony thought was fantastic. He and Peggy had thought of introducing the two boys eventually, but the fact that they found each other on their own and became friends without any meddling was absolutely better than any other alternative. Seeing his son go out there and make friends was something that filled him with joy- that had always filled him with joy. Back when Peter was eleven, Tony had to schedule playdates with other famous kids' parents just to get him out of the house, and as a result he had Ned and he had Harry, and he had a few others, but he didn’t really actively seek out other kids to be friends with. He had found Harley though, and now Tony was almost certain the other boy would be adopted into Peter’s friends group. 

“You’ve said that a lot, buddy,” he murmured, keeping his voice soft, “You gonna go to sleep any time soon?”

Peter’s nose wrinkled. “I haven't eaten yet. I can’t go to sleep until I’ve at least devoured half of the food, and leave very little for you and Sam and Steve and Bucky.” 

“When did I raise you to be such a little shit head?”

“You didn’t- I just learnt it by watching you, papa.” Oh, Peter was on the verge of sleeping, if he was breaking out ‘papa’ instead of dad. “Do you think I could get away with a little tiny nap?”

“I think you could, kiddo.” Gently, he shifted so that Peter could actually lay down, continuing to play with his hair. “Want me to wake you up in twenty?”

“Ten.”

“Twenty.”

“Twenty,” Peter mumbled, “Wake me up in twenty.”

“Okay, kiddo.”

And all at once, Peter was asleep, eyelids fluttering lightly, breathing even. These were some of the moments that he lived for. Watching his son fall asleep, regaining all the innocence and love he had held for the world when he was just a tiny kid. He looked the same too- he had the same mannerisms of falling asleep. First he’d relax, then his breathing would even, and finally, he’d be fast asleep and in the land of dreams. It  was adorable. 

Tony was so happy that even as his son got older and older they still had things like this. This wasn’t something he’d ever experienced with his own dad, so the relationship he and Peter had was important to him. It mattered to him. His son was probably the most precious thing in the entire world, no matter how grown he was. 

Harley flashed through his mind again. When Peggy had told him about her nephew, he hadn’t expected a scrawny kid with a heart condition and enough anger in him to spit at Bucky and Steve- even though they deserved it. Not a lot of people had the actual balls to go up to public figures and chew them out. But Harley Keener did. He had that type of strength about him, and to immediately go from being angry at two people who were being dicks to calming Peter down from a panic attack to being curled up with him, watching Star Wars, and chatting aimlessly about molecular structures and the importance of metals was- a lot, honestly. A good ‘a lot’, though. It was a good a lot.

Honestly, everything about Harley had reminded him of Peggy. In all the subtle ways, like the way he knew to soften his voice with certain people, or how he always had his chin held high, how he always seemed to want to be strong and succeeding at giving the air of it. It was clear that the two of them were really important in each other's lives. Which- he should have expected, since Peggy had made it clear that while Harley wasn’t her son, he was probably the most important thing in her life. That he would always be the most important thing in her life. Tony knew exactly how that felt. 

And then there was the issue of James Buchanan Barnes. There was almost nothing less attractive than being a thirty six year old man, and being a literal dick to a child. He understood that Bucky and Harley’s mom must have had some sort of past- he opted to ignore how his chest tightened at that idea, because Bucky didn’t even like him back so of course he was allowed to have a past with people- but it really didn’t excuse just how much of an asshole he had been in that moment. Speaking about Harley like he wasn’t there, insulting Harley’s dad, then Harley’s mom? It made Tony feel sick. 

In fact, he wasn’t sure how he felt about Bucky anymore. Steve had mentioned how some people just knew him, and while he was positive that Bucky was one of those people, he just- couldn’t imagine being attracted to someone who was that much of a dick to kids. 

“We’re back, Tony.” The object of his thoughts poked his head in, then winced, quieting his voice. “Sorry. I didn’t realize Peter would be sleeping.”

Tony shook his head, clearing the thoughts of attraction out of his mind. “You’re okay, Barnes. It's okay. He’s just fallen asleep though, and I think today tired him out.” 

“Yeah.”  Bucky nodded, coming in further and sitting on the coffee table across from Tony, making their knees touch slightly. He ignored the contact. “I got that vibe from our car ride home. He was rambling about his new friend- Harley. He was rambling about Harley.”

“Nice to see you remember his name.” The words came out sharper than he had meant them to, but he did mean it. He just- couldn’t in good conscience not ask, “What the hell were you thinking when you met that kid, Barnes? I’ve never ever known you to be rude to kids.”

In his head, he added that one of the reasons he liked Barnes so much was because he was always kind and good to kids.

Bucky hesitated, breathing out quietly. “It's complicated. I guess- he looks like this girl that I used to love. I don’t- I don’t love her now, because it’s been years, but she was my first real love. And I guess, some part of me had always just imagined Macy and me together even if that's not really what I want anymore.”

“Oh.” The word want rang through his head. If Bucky no longer wanted that, then what did he want? “I just don’t get how you could be so mean to a kid.”

“I wasn’t trying to, and I think I’m gonna go back up to the hospital and apologize to him,” Bucky said quickly, then sank a little into himself, resting his elbows on the knees that were still brushing Tony’s, and his hands fell to the space between Tony’s thighs. “I never want to be that guy that’s a shithead to kids. I just- I guess it was a mix of him being the son that a part of me thought I’d have with her, and the fact that out of everyone in the world she could’ve had kids with, she had kids with Jack Vincent. It was personal, and rude, and I should’ve phrased everything better. I want to know Macy’s son, you know?”

“I’m confused.” Tony’s mouth worked out words before his brain could. “I thought you didn’t want a son with Macy Keener.”

“I don’t, anymore.” He watched the line of Bucky’s shoulder as he shrugged. “I did at one time. I did back in high school, when me and her would go sneak off during debate club and make out in the gym, and I could tell her things I couldn’t tell anyone else. But then she started dating Jack, when me and her were nothing but friends with benefits, and I signed up for the army, and lost my arm and well-” Bucky’s blue eyes met Tony’s and the air left his lungs for a split second from the intensity in the irises. “I found a new angel to guide me.” 

Was that? Was- Was Bucky flirting with him? Holy fuck- had Bucky just called him an angel? Had- oh God, his heart felt like it was about to jump from his throat. There was no way Bucky meant him. No way that Bucky had looked him in the eyes and implied with clear conviction in his voice that Tony was his angel. He was imagining things. He was imagining things. And he thought Peter had an active imagination. 

“Just, please, doll-” Bucky called him doll, why could he feel his face getting hot? “Know that I’m a dumbass. I’m an idiot with a temper and I’ve gotta control it better. I have to. But I really, truly, am sorry about how I treated Harley today and I’m gonna do everything in my power to make it so that he knows that. That he knows that I’m sorry.”

“I believe you.” Tony found his footing again in the subject he cared about most, kids and their well being. “Because I’ve never seen you be like that to any other kids. Hell- Peter adores you. And he- he may not really be a kid anymore, but I think it counts.”

Bucky laughed softly, and one of the hands between Tony's thighs came to rest on it, the warmth radiating through his bones. “Tony, you’re a fool if you think that boy of yours will ever be anything but your kid in your heart.” 

Okay. So maybe he was still attracted to Bucky. Maybe he was still very attracted to Bucky and how Bucky knew everything he needed to hear, and how he always managed to respect Tony’s care for his son and oh- he was really really in love with James Buchanan Barnes. He had thought that maybe he could beat off his feelings with a stick after seeing how Bucky had responded to Harley, but hearing the genuine regret in Bucky’s voice, and hearing the word angel fall from his lips, and the way that Bucky just understood that his heart was beating for his son- 

Tony let out a shaky breath, and smiled softly through his lashes at Bucky, letting one of his hands fall to the one still resting on his thigh. “Thanks, Barnes. It- it means a lot that you know that.”

If Bucky caught his hidden second meaning he didn’t let it show. Instead he just squeezed Tony’s thigh gently and said softly, “How could I not know that when how you care about him is one of the things I like most about you? As a kid with a shitty dad, seeing you and how much you love makes me happy.”

“Thank you. I try my best.”

“You succeed, doll, trust me, you do.” Bucky slipped his hand from his thigh to stand up, offering the same hand to him. “C’mon. Let's let the kid sleep for a bit more, and go get some food. You’ve had a long day too, Tony.”

Tony accepted the hand, and relished in how once he got to his feet, Bucky’s metal hand found the small of his back. Pressing into the feeling, he’d deny it to absolutely anyone who asked, but it was comforting. Nice. 

And oh. Maybe. Maybe he was still in love with Bucky.

Chapter Text

[Two photos of magazine covers, each one by PEOPLE magazine, declaring ‘THE SEXIEST MAN ALIVE!’ for two different years. 

One cover shows Steve Rogers, in a tight fitting white t-shirt smiling brightly at the camera. His hair is done in a very classic ‘army boy’ style, and he’s gotten his teeth whitened to the highest degree possible. In the background, it's clear he’s outside, and all it does is add to his ‘sexy boy-next-door look. He looks extremely handsome, and with his muscles straining against the white shirt, he is extremely sexy. 

The next cover also shows Steve Rogers, same hair style, but this time a little disheveled. He’s got the shadow of a beard on his face, and all it does is add to his allure. This time, he’s in a suit, but in true Steve fashion, he disregarded the jacket and rolled up his sleeves. He looks a little like a rogue 1950s mobster, handsome and rich with a nice watch but just the right amount of sexy.]

People Magazine @PEOPLE 

This year it’s no surprise that the sexy and amazing Captain America- Steve Rogers- is getting nominated again for Sexiest Man Alive! Will he bring home the goods for the third year in a row?

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“Oh my God.” Tony gagged, glaring at Steve. “You smell like you haven’t bathed in days. You look like you live in the dumpster behind our set. Jesus Christ- get yourself together, Steve!”

Steve just groaned, rolling on Tony’s couch so he was facing the cushion. “Let me just exist in peace, Tony.”

“Could you at least take it to your own home?”

“No, because Bucky makes fun of me at my own home.” Looking over his shoulder, Steve tried to give him the most heartbroken puppy eyes he could manage, but Tony wasn’t one to be fooled by puppy eyes, not with who he had for a son. “You don’t make fun of me, right, Tony?”

“Yes, yes I do.” He found himself shaking his head, and wrinkled his nose again. “Seriously, though, Steve, it smells like something died and is wearing your clothes.”

“Something did die- my will to live.” 

“Oh my God, oh my God . ” Grabbing a pillow from one of their chairs, he started hitting Steve with it, not caring to be gentle. “You overdramatic little baby! I’ve seen people in the industry that are notorious for their dramatics be less dramatic than you are right now! You haven’t showered, you haven’t shaved, and you haven’t gotten off my fucking couch in two days, Steve!”

Steve didn’t even hold his hands up to protect himself, just let Tony assault him with a pillow, occasionally letting out sounds when Tony hit the pillow right into the soft part of his side. “Your couch is so much better than my couch- and Bucky’s not here to make fun of me- and Peter brings me food! It's only natural for me to stay here.”

“I told Peter not to feed you so that you wouldn’t come back,” Tony deadpanned, before giving up on hitting his friend, and just slumped to the side of the couch, careful to hold his breath. “You really do have to fucking shower though, Steve. I’m not sure if I can stand the stench you’re currently drenching my very nice couch in.”

“Showering requires caring about yourself,” his friend moped, sniffing like he was about to cry when Tony knew he wasn’t, “And how can I find it in myself to care about myself at all? I can’t care about myself when- when- when she doesn't care about me!”

Pausing, he reached for the pillow again- but this time, instead of hitting Steve, he pressed the pillow to his friends face and held down. “I’m gonna suffocate you. I’m going to fucking kill you! You fucking- you idiot- you absolute fucking idiot- this little tantrum is about Peggy?” 

Peter popped his head in the room, then blinked. “Oh, you’re killing Steve because of Peggy?”

“At least I’d finally be out of my misery,” Steve spoke, muffled against the pillow, at the same time Tony nodded at his son, “I’ll be gone and it’ll be perfect because I’ll never have to face my heart break ever again. I can just be happy in my own little miserable cocoon, locked into the pit of hell, just alone. It’ll be nice.”

“Yes, I’m killing Steve because of Peggy.” Tony ignored his friend and focused on the kid in front of him. “And speaking of which, I haven’t seen you in awhile, Mister. You been hauled up in your room this whole time?”

“No,” Peter said indignantly, cheeks flushing, “Me and Harls have just been talking a lot. I’ve also been bringing food to Steve whenever I feel like he’s been getting close to death.”

“Just let me starve.”

They both ignored him, “So, he’s Harls now, huh?”

“Dad!” Peter whined, “Don’t try to make this into something it's not. Being bi does not mean that I'm attracted to every guy I meet!”

“I wasn’t even implying that you liked him,” Tony grinned, implying that Peter liked him, “I was just asking if you two were closer friends.”

Steve made a wounded sound from under the pillow. “Why does Peter get a happy and healthy love life at eighteen when I still don’t have one at thirty six? It's not fair!”

“Oh my god, Steve, you sound like an incel,” Peter muttered and moved to sit by his dad, “And I don’t think either of you get to be bullying me for having a friend when you two barely have anyone else in your lives. I mean, seriously, Steve, do you hang out with anyone but me and my dad? Don’t say Bucky, he’s your brother and he doesnt count.”

“I hang out with Sam!” Steve finally moved to sit up again, and Tony had to force himself not to gag at the wave of two day unshowered Steve stench that hit him in the face. “You always make it seem like I have no friends, Pete. I have a lot of fans. I’m very popular and cool and sexy.”

Tony made a very obvious point of looking at the patchy stubble beard he was sporting, and then the stained white t-shirt, and finally his unkempt looking hair. “Yeah, popular and cool and sexy is exactly the words I’d use to describe a thirty six year old that can’t get off his friend's couch and mooches off his food because he’s borderline obsessed with a girl.”

Peter ooh’d the burn, but Steve just frowned. “I’m not borderline obsessed.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“I-” Steve hesitated. “What's so bad about wanting to reconnect? And- it's not an obsession. You know it's not an obsession.”

“Oh, I know that, but you realize to every other sane person in America, you’re obsessed with one Margaret Carter and it's absolutely something to make fun of you for.”

“She just-” Steve seemed to regress ten years as his cheeks flushed and he curled into himself, “I gave her my number and she hasn’t texted yet and it's been two days. Clearly she doesn’t want to talk to me.”

Peter had gotten out his phone at some point in the conversation, and didn’t look up to meet Steve’s eyes as he spoke- which…Tony needed to talk to him about politeness in conversations. “Actually, Harley says even he hasn’t seen Peggy since the start of the program. It was wildly successful- which is fantastic!- but it also means that she's really busy because she’s head coordinator. It's actually really endearing how worried he is about her-”

“Okay,” Tony cut off his son before he could start rambling, “So we’ve established Peggy is just really busy and hasn’t had time to text you. Yes?”

“No,” Steve mumbled, slumping more and more into himself. “That means absolutely nothing. Peggy hasn’t texted me because she doesn't wanna talk to me, and she’ll never wanna talk to me, because I was just her weird dorky high school friend and now that I’m this, she won’t want me and who’s to say we even have anything in common anymore and-”

“Jesus Christ, Steven, please calm the fuck down.” Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “Peggy is an extremely busy woman who has a life outside of her phone. She wants to talk to you, I promise, because you were her dorky, amazing, close high school friend that meant something to her judging by how she was so so willing to talk to you at all when you guys met. And you’re not some ‘this’ that no one could ever love. And you may not have anything in common, Steve, but a relationship is more than what you have in common. It's about working to understand the other person's wants and needs and interests. I’m begging you, stop being such a baby and talk to her.” 

To his credit, Steve seemed to consider the idea of reaching for his phone and texting Peggy. And then Tony watched whatever progress he had made by his little speech to Steve drain out of his body like water out of a sieve. He was almost impressed with how two days had made Steve a tired, worn out, stinky, rotting couch potato that couldn’t seem to even express what he wanted. Like- how depressed did not getting text for two days really make a guy? Conclusion: really depressed. 

“I can’t do that,” Steve groaned, body melting back into the nook it had made in the couch. “I can’t talk to her because she has to text me first or else it doesn’t count. It doesn’t count.”

“You little- I’m so-” Tony breathed out, trying to regain control of his anger. “Why doesn't it count, Steve?”

“Because if I text her I’m being desperate and clingy and obsessed,” Steve sniffed pathetically, then glanced at Peter who was grinning at his phone, “Peter…Peter…my favorite kid, will you go-”

“Get you the big tub of cheese puffs?” This had clearly been happening a lot given by how Peter just automatically knew what Steve wanted from him. “Yes, but only because I think it’s funny that you’re up for Sexiest Man Alive again when you currently look and act like this.”

Steve made an offended noise at Peter’s implications. “I’m very sexy like this.”

Tony just shook his head. “You’re like…this is the least sexiest I’ve ever seen you, Steve, and that’s saying something because I’ve seen you drunk, and there is nothing unsexier than drunk Steve.”

“It's not my fault at all that I’m usually the sober one and designated driver and you took my excuse to not drink from me by being 18 years sober, Tony,” Steve just whined and whined and whined and Tony was honestly this close to kicking him out of his house, “And I’ll have you know drunk Steve is incredibly attractive. I’m always sexy and hot and- oh! Cheese puffs!”

Peter had returned, and had brought the jumbo tub of cheese puffs, much to Steve’s joy. Tony watched in horror as his friend guzzled down the processed puff. This couldn’t be real. It was like watching a feral cat rip apart a mouse except it was a thirty six year old human man child that was eating cheese puffs in the same way that competitive eaters eat pie. There was no way that Steve could physically be doing that, and yet here he was witnessing the carnage with his own two eyes. Gross. 

“I know, right?” Peter had seemingly noticed his disgust at Steve, “It’s the most horrible thing I’ve ever seen and yet I can’t look away. I don’t know if it's because I think he’s gonna choke and I wanna be prepared to do the Heimlich on him or if it's because this is probably the most feral thing I’ve ever seen.”

Tony was still staring at his friend, the orange powder spilling from the cheese puffs and coating that patchy stubble a bright orange. Finally he choked out, “Both. It's definitely both, Pete. This is- Jesus Christ. Is this what he’s been doing for the past two days?”

“It’s all he’ll eat.” Nodding like this was a tragedy, Peter just sighed, “I suppose it's better than letting him starve for real. Poor little guy, dad, he’s so traumatized and heart broken.” 

“I-” Tony just shook his head, “I think I’m gonna be sick just looking at him. How does he have the breath control to eat those like he’s drinking them?”

Steve just ignored them still, guzzling down more and more of those cheesy cheesy puffs. Peter shuddered, “I’ve been trying to figure it out for days. I still don’t understand- not at all. It shouldn’t be physically possible and yet-”

“And yet,” Tony continued, grimly, as Steve stopped guzzling to frown at them. For a moment he thought his friend would speak, argue against what they were saying, but he just sniffed and regained his eating position. Tony was the one to shudder this time. “This has gone too far. I’m giving it another two days, and then I’m gonna call in the big guns.”

Peter’s head whipped to him, “You’re gonna tell Bucky he’s been camping out here?”

“Worse,” He met his son’s eyes, and said firmly, “I’m gonna call Peggy myself.”

Steve finally choked.

[A screenshot of  a video interview Ned Leeds did with his co-stars of Harry Potter. It’s an image of a dog, fluffy and white with poodle-like features, just…laying in Ned’s lap. Ned’s face is delighted, and surprised, like this is the best thing that ever happened to him. It’s really really cute.]

Can’t, I’m allergic  @hpotato 

god i wish i was that dog: in Ned Leeds lap, being held by the most handsome man in the universe.

12.3k retweets and comments   16k likes

|

Betty Brant  {✓}  @BeBrant 

Rt.

12.5k retweets and comments   16k likes

The hospital was really, really boring most times. Harley was supposed to be discharged in a few days, but he honestly didn’t even care, because this hospital stay had been anything but boring. It had been probably the best visit he’d ever had, which was a really weird statement to make, considering it was a hospital stay. 

He was technically supposed to be dying- both of boredom and the shit wrong with his heart- but instead of staring at those four blank walls and playing on his phone or his laptop, he’d had the absolute best week he’d ever had in a hospital. 

And it was all thanks to Peter Benjamin Stark.

Peter and him had become fast friends. Since their original meeting, Peter had visited almost every other day. They'd settled into a routine; Harley would wait up for him with his laptop, and they’d watch a new movie every visit and get into the absolutely widest debates over this or that or that or this. It was easy to rile Peter up, and even easier to get him to double over with laughter at the wild arguments they’d find themselves in. 

Harley had never ever had a best friend, but he’d like to think that if he did have one now, it’d be Peter.

It was slightly a drawback being friends with the same guy who was ridiculously famous for being an actor in the fandom he was currently producing the majority of his content for. For starters, Peter had absolutely no idea about his fandom page and if Harley had anything to say about it he never would- not that he was embarrassed or ashamed. He just- God, it felt cringey to go up to his newly found best friend and go ‘Yes I produce edits featuring your dad, and you, and sam wilson, and they get a lot of retweets on Twitter because I’m kinda good at it.’ That just felt so- so- so cringey. 

He had however, admitted to Peter his absolute love of Harry Potter. Without name dropping any of the actors, he had mentioned several times that they were his favorite movies and books and he absolutely adored the story.  Peter, of course, had taken that as an opportunity to immediately start teasing him about being a Harry Potter fanboy and having a crush on Mary Jane Watson, who played Hermione. He’d immediately corrected that notion, informing Peter that if he was going to have a crush on anyone it’d be a boy, not a girl, because he did not swing to the way of women and he never would. 

Peter had followed this up by hounding him mercilessly on his love of Ned Leeds. He made no comment. 

Being friends with an actor was such a nuisance in this day and age, he really wasn’t sure how he was able to do it. It was so tiring. Still, every time he saw something from Peter he had to fight back a smile, and every single time he saw Peter’s dumb little face stick out from behind the door it filled his heart with something akin to warmth. 

That could’ve also just been the side effects of the new medication dosage. 

But that didn’t erase the joy he felt when he was around Peter. Those hours watching movies, debating over them, taking to each other, texting after lights out- it was amazing. It was- it was like nothing he had ever experienced in the past. He supposed that was kind of pathetic, because that meant he’d never had a friend in the past- which okay, fair, but uncalled for. Peter was entirely new territory for him, he guessed, and that felt nicer than he could put into words. It was just- really really nice being friends with Peter. 

“Harls?” The boy in question poked his head into the room and beamed brightly.“I didn’t actually think you’d be awake. Isn’t it time for your mid day nap?”

Harley faked a yawn, sending a wink. “Oh, I stayed up in the hope I’d see you today, Pete. You know I just absolutely live for your visits.”

“I know you do, seriously.” Peter’s cheeks were flushed- Harley guessed he had outrun the grabby little kids on the floor hoping to catch Spider-Man’s eye- and he made no move to step more in. “But seriously, before I come in, how are you feeling?”

“How am I-” Harley shook his head, sitting up more, “Supper bored if anything. Do you know that when you have like three heart conditions and a bunch of related health issues they don’t like it when you get out of bed? I was about to start jumping on this thing just to get some excersize in, so it’s good you caught me before the lamest suicide attempt to ever occur would happen.”

“How is jumping on a bed a suicide attempt?”

“Raises my heartbeat enough that I would be struck down by the cruel god that nuked me with this shit in the first place.”

“Well, I’m glad I came to stop you, then,” Peter said dryly, but his eyes were sparkling, “Also, I need you to promise me that you’ll remember your breathing exercises and keep your heart rate calm.”

“For what-”

The words tumbled out of his mouth as Peter opened the door and suddenly he understood very very well why Peter had reminded him of his breathing exercises. Standing in the door way, next to Peter, looking absolutely ecstatic was Ned fucking Leeds. Ned Leeds. Ned. Leeds. As in the Ned Leeds who had brought life to one of his favorite characters of all times. As in the Ned Leeds that had been the awakening of his gay side. The Ned Leeds that had absolutely stolen his heart with every little interview and Instagram Live and photo shoot. Ned Leeds. 

Oh, he was gonna fucking kill Peter. Peter, who was grinning wildly now, and who most definitely knew that Ned was perhaps Harley’s most favorite most beloved actor in the entire world. Peter, who had been teasing him mercilessly about Ned being the love of his life. Peter, who knew exactly what he had done by bringing the literal most handsome man in the world to him. Ned, with his tan skin, and eyes, and hair, and his smile, and- goddammit, he was gonna kill Peter. If this went wrong he was gonna kill Peter. If this went right though- he might have to kiss Peter in thanks. 

“You’re him,” Ned breathed, beaming widely, and he had to fight down the blush that he was sure was painting his cheeks red right now. “You’re Harley! Peter hasn’t been able to shut up about you, man! It’s been driving me and Harry crazy, not having met you yet- oh, Harry was gonna be here too, but he got busy. Some photo shoot in Milan that he had to be present for or else he was gonna scream or something.”

Ned made his way into the room, and Harley sat up more, trying to scramble out of bed, absolutely mortified that he was in nothing but an Avengers sweatshirt and fuzzy Harry Potter pants. Ned reached out a hand, and Harley took it, not expecting to be pulled into a hug but not pulling back once Ned’s arms reached around him. 

“Yeah- he- what?”

“It’s just crazy to finally meet you man.” Ned gave him a little squeeze and Harley was pretty sure his heart was about to burst from shock. “You’re just like- Peter says you’re the only person who can keep up with him about Star Wars trivia besides me, and like, he just talks about you a lot, so I’ve been bugging him to let me meet you since the second he mentioned you."

“He- you have?” He choked out as Ned pulled back to beam up at him. “That's so- sorry I just- wasn't prepared for this today and dude, you’re Ned Leeds.”

Ned sent a smirk towards Peter, who scowled, but Harley couldn’t focus on that, rather than the fact that Ned Leeds was actually in front of him. “I am in fact Ned Leeds. I’m glad that Peter finally has a friend that can recognize pure and honest talent, instead of just falling for his pretty face- though, I have no doubt that my pretty face probably over shines him in your mind, yes?”

“One hundred percent.” Harley felt his ears go red. “Well- Okay- not to seem weird, dude, but you’re like- the ideal. Like- eleven year old me is jumping for joy right now- hell, if Peter hadn’t commanded me to not have a heart attack and die, I would probably be doing that now. I mean- come on- you’re Harry fucking Potter! And thats not even mentioning all the other fucking anmazing roles you play- I mean- dude- I could go on and on about your cinematography.”

“Oh please do.” Ned’s smirk grew wider, and he pulled Harley to sit on the bed, leaning into him and Harley was genuinely sure that his heart was about to leap out of his chest. “I love hearing from fans- but also, I wanna know your opinions on Star Wars. Everything about you, we have to be best friends, Harley. Best. Friends. I can’t let Harry steal you away.”

“He couldn’t if he tried.” Seriously, his brain was just working on instinct. “I mean- you’re Ned Leeds. You’re quite literally the face of our generation, in my opinion.”

“Finally, someone who agrees with me!”

“Knock it off, Ned,” Peter mumbled from where he was standing with his arms crossed, leaning on the wall with the door. “You’re definitely not the face of our generation.”

“Do not blaspheme, Peter Benjamin,” Harley found himself huffing, whipping out Peter’s full name, to the effect of Peter’s cheeks flushing red in embarrassment. “Look at him!” He pointed at Ned. “He’s quite literally the most handsome man of his time! Not to mention he’s brilliant! Be nice to Ned, Peter!”

“Oh, I like this one,” Ned wrapped an arm around Harley, smirking at Peter, “I’m keeping him. He’s no longer your friend. He’s my friend. He’s just my friend. You can’t have him- he’s a Star Wars nerd and he appreciates me? I’m keeping him, Peter.”

Peter’s scowl deepend, “What would Betty think?”

“My girlfriend loves me and loves how snuggly and soft and amazing I am with my friends. You can try to make her jealous, but we are secure in our love. She won’t mind if I keep a friend.”

“Oh, wow,” Harley said dryly, even though the joy he felt was jumping from every bone in his body, “Nice to know you just want me around to say nice things. I’m a person, too, Ned, I’ve got feelings.”

“And those feelings are?”

“Let me be your kept boy, I’ll literally pay you.” 

Both he and Ned dissolved into loud giggles, the joke landing perfectly between them. It seemed Ned had the exact same humor he did. They fell into an easy sort of chatter after that, with Ned bringing up different topics, and bouncing them off Harley like they were made to do this. They found out that they had a lot of similar interests, and Ned joked that he must have picked up all the same things from Ned because of his love of the actor. He just laughed, and told Ned that only some of his interests came from stalking the other celebrity. 

Finally, after an hour or something that felt like an hour of bantering with one another, Ned got up and excused himself to the bathroom, and Harley finally noticed how Peter was scowling. He’d never seen the other boy upset in a kind of angry way before, and it was slightly strange. A part of him wondered if it was because Harley was stealing his friend, but he didn’t think Peter was capable of thinking like that.

“C’mere.” He scootched back on his bed, holding his arms out to his friend. “What's got you all pouty?”

Peter shrugged, and slipped next to him, throwing an arm around Harley’s stomach. “Dunno. I just- you’re my friend, right?”

“Peter.” Harley pulled back to meet his best friend’s eyes. “You’re more than my friend. You’re my best friend, dude. And it's only been a week of knowing each other. Of course I’m your friend.”

Peter seemed to like this answer, and pressed his face into Harley’s side. “Ned can have the chair, you and I get the bed. Now come on- let's set up a movie.”

Harley took a moment to relax, just him and Peter. Then he did as he was told and set up The Force Awakens, much to Ned’s delight when he returned- it was his girlfriend’s movie after all. 

In the end, Ned did end up having the chair. Peter stayed pressed to Harley’s side. 

The "Buckster" {✓} @JamesBarnes

You guys all think Steve Rogers is so sexy, but as someone who lives with this man let me ASSURE you he's like 95% cheese puff and grease and like maybe 5% hair gel and like 100% dumbass.

8k retweets and comments   9.6k likes

It’d been a week and a half and Peggy hadn’t called him. 

Which- was totally in her right, and Steve wasn’t saying that Peggy had to call him, and he would totally understand if Peggy didn’t want to call him but like- he really wanted to hear her voice again. He wanted to hear her voice and talk to her and get to know her and he just- he wanted. And Peggy still hadn’t called him. 

Was his reaction of hiding out on Tony’s couch, crying, and eating junk food healthy? Probably not, but he was an actor. It was in his very nature to be dramatic. He rolled so he was facing the back of the couch, trying to block out the light of day. He didn’t want it to be so bright. How dare the world be so bright when he was struggling through the worst heartbreak of his life! This wasn’t fair! 

“Tony always gets appropriate weather for his dramatic moments,” he mumbled, closing his eyes, and pulling the blanket tighter around him. “Why can’t I get good weather for when I’m sad, instead of sunshine? It's not fair.”

No one answered him, because Peter was out visiting Harley and Tony was tanning in the backyard, but it helped to say it out loud. If he could just close his eyes- get some more sleep- maybe everything would just be a little better and he’d have a message from his Peggy on his phone, waiting for him. 

It was a nice thought- Peggy texting him. They’d probably talk for hours once they did start talking, like they once had in high school. They’d talk and talk, and Steve would ask her questions about her life, and Peggy would understand his words and what they mean better than anyone else like always. It would be nice. He zoned in on that thought, that dream, of just listening to Peggy talk. 

Except someone was saying something. Someone was saying something, and Steve couldn't hear them, because he had pressed two pillows over his ears. He cracked an eye open, and of course, Bucky was looming over him with a scowl. 

"-get up , you punk," Bucky was saying, "You are being absolutely pathetic, Stevie."

He huffed, turning to curl more into the couch. “I’m not pathetic, I’m heartbroken.”

“Oh drop the act, Steve.” Bucky’s scowl deepend, and Steve could hear it in his voice. “Heartbroken my ass. I’ve seen you heart broken. Heartbroken Stevie is a little pathetic moron, but at least he’s not this.”

“You’re bullying me.”

“You gonna punch me?”

“Thinkin’ real hard about it.”

“Congrats for finally using your brain, then.” Looming over him, Bucky flicked his forehead. “Now get up. Get up right now, or I’ll call Ma.” 

Scrambling, he sat up, ignoring how the very action made him feel dizzy. “You wouldn’t- no- no, Bucky, you can’t call Ma! She’ll chew me out! I can’t be chewed out when I’m in a state like this! I can’t handle that! I can’t handle that at all!”

“Get a grip or I’ll do it!” Bucky meant it too, and Steve could see how his hand found his back pocket and was filled with dread at the reminder that his mother was only a phone call away. “You’re out of control, Steve! You’ve been on this couch for a week and a half, and you’re absolutely disgusting- look at you! You’ve got a beard!”

“What’s wrong with a beard! I love having a beard! I like it a lot!”

This was a lie and they both knew it. Steve did not like having a beard, let alone a poorly-groomed one that had absolutely nothing of value beyond thin patches and rough patches, and just general patches. Bucky knew this about his brother and scoffed. “You’re a fucking liar. Get up, or I’m calling Ma.”

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky,” Steve reasoned, reaching towards him, “You really don’t have to do that. You really don’t. We can just- can’t we end this peacefully? Can’t we end this in a way that no one gets hurt? I’m just mourning my chances with Peggy-”

“-And you’ve been mourning your chances with Peggy since the day you met her!” Bucky’s scowl deepened, and he tapped at his phone, “That’s it- I’m calling Ma.”

“No!” Steve jumped off the couch, reaching wildly for the phone, but Bucky’s years of army training had prepared him for that reaction, and he evaded each and everyone of Steve’s swipes for his phone. “You traitor! You traitor! You evil traitor! I hope you-”

“James?” Sarah Roger’s soft voice called from the phone, and Steve froze. “What’s up, sweetheart? You don’t usually call me at this time.”

Bucky grinned at his reaction. “Heya, Ma. I called to ask for you to talk to your absolute idiot of a son. He’s been doing some dumbass shit.”

Sarah laughed. “Mhmm. And which idiot son are you talking about here?”

“Hey!”

“He’s talkin’ about me, Ma,” Steve piped up, “I guess- You remember Peggy Carter?”

“Oh! Yes, I was gonna ask you next time we called, she’s been on the news so much recently for organizing your little charity.” His mom’s voice was very knowing. “You calling me to tell me that you’re finally asking Peg out? You know, in high school, I always thought she was genuinely interested. It’d be a shame if-” 

“She hasn’t talked to me since that day!” Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair and over his face. “So I’ve been at Tony’s place.” 

“You’ve been at Tony’s place doin’ what, Stevie?” Bucky demanded from him, eyes narrowing, “And don’t lie to Ma.”

“I’ve been- I’ve been on Tony’s couch for a week and a half.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Ma, you should see him right now. I’ll send you a pic later. He hasn’t showered for a week and he hasn’t shaved either. I’m pretty sure he hasn’t changed clothes because I’m almost certain that that’s the same shirt he was wearing when I last saw him. He’s pathetic, Ma, seriously.”

“Steve Rogers.” His mom’s voice was a warning bell. “You better hope that what Bucky is saying isn’t true because if it is, I’m gonna be cross with you. You know you have to act better than that, boy, and you know you can’t just be camping out at Tony’s house just because of some perceived slight.” 

“It's not perceived!” Steve protested but it was flimsy, even to his own ears. “She doesn’t want to be with me, or talk to me-”

“Or,” Sarah said softly, and if Steve closed his eyes he could imagine the rainy nights in Brooklyn, when his mom would tuck him in and play with his hair until he fell asleep, “Are you projecting the fact that you two fell out of touch years ago and you’re now to nervous to go see her to actually talk to her- especially when I know you know that she’s been busy, considering that the program you’ve started is extremely popular. Stevie, sweetheart, please, get off Tony’s couch and think.”

He breathed out, closing his eyes, “Okay, Ma. Okay.”

“I gotta go, honey,” his mom murmured. “I love you. And James, I love you a lot. Please take care of your idiot brother.”

“Will do, Ma.”  Bucky nodded, and smirked at Steve, entire demeanor saying ‘I was right.’ “Bye.”

“I’ll see you, boys.”

“Bye, mom.”

They waited in silence for the click, and then Bucky pounced, patting Steve’s shoulder with a grin. “You gonna get up now?”

“Yes,” Steve mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you really think I’ve been projecting?”

“Yes. Yes, I do. I think that you’ve been projecting harder than that time with the-” Steve shot him a look. Bucky sighed. “Yes, you have been. But you know something?”

“Hmm?”

“Wanna know what I think you should do?”

He frowned at his brother. No, he didn’t want to know what Bucky thought he should do, because as far as he could tell, Bucky's idea of romance was staring at Tony’s ass and making small talk. He wouldn’t know what to do to woo Peggy at all. “No, I don’t know what you think I should do, and I don’t want to know.”

“Oh, come on.” Bucky beamed,.“Don’t be lame. You’re being lame, so don’t be lame, and let me tell you what you should do.”

“Fine.” Sighing, he shook his head. “What should I do?”

“Accept that shirtless photoshoot with Vogue and send her limited edition photos.”

Steve choked, fighting back a laugh,.“What?”

“You’ve been voted the Sexiest Man Alive twice in a row, Stevie,” Bucky said, like he was making a business proposition. “Obviously, if you want to woo Peggy, you have to appeal to your beautiful side. You may not have much of a beautiful side, but that's nothing some good photoshop can't fix.”

“Oh, yes, I can see her reaction now.” Steve was actually laughing at the thought. “Of course, she’ll drool over my abs and how beautiful I am, and it’ll make her fall instantly in love. Obviously, that’s all I need to do. Obviously.”

Bucky nodded, “Hell yeah that’s what you need to do! That’s exactly what you need to do! You’re Steve Rogers, man! You’re totally cool and sexy or something! You’ve got all the shots in the world- dude- you're like- you’re the hot blonde in every coming of age movie.”

“I’m the hot blonde in every coming of age movie?” The words ran around his head and he hummed, thinking on it. “Am I really?”

“Duh,” Bucky said plainly, “You’re Captain America. You’re the epitome of cool, sexy, and strong.”

Steve was Captain America. Well, at least, he played Captain America. Steve thought on the words that Bucky was telling him. He was hot shit. He was wanted for so many movies and people and fans liked him. He was literally voted Sexiest Man Alive for two years in a row, something that had never happened before. He was hot. 

“I’m Captain America,” he repeated, looking at Bucky. “I’m Captain America, and I’m the sexiest man alive, and I’m the hot blonde girl in coming of age movies!”

“Yes, yes you are!”

“Wait, wait,” Tony slipped in from the kitchen in his bright red swim shorts. “Did you just say you’re the hot blonde girl in every coming of age movie?”

“Yes, I am,” Steve ignored how Bucky seemed to be choking on air, face as red as Tony’s swimsuit. “I am the hot blonde girl, Tony!”

Tony laughed, a clear sound that made Steve smile. He was glad he could still draw that noise out of his friend after a week of being harassed to get off his couch. Bucky inhaled sharply next to him- Tony didn’t notice. “Nice to see your confidence is back, sport.” 

“Thanks, Tony.” Steve stretched, wrinkling his nose at the way he smelt. “I suppose I better get off your couch now, though.”

“Yes, please do,” Tony finally glanced at Bucky. “Jesus, Barnes, you’re bright red. Are you feeling okay?”

That was his queue, and he shook his head, guiding himself out of the living room. He’d been slobbing there for so long, he hadn’t realized he smelt worse than anything he’d ever experienced. First order of business was a shower. Then a shave. Then another shower because this stink wouldn’t get out the first time, and he could feel it. But after all that was done, maybe he’d take an afternoon to prepare himself, get himself ready. He’d go shopping, get some new clothes, call his mom and tell her thanks- 

And then he’d go talk to Peggy. His mom had been right, after all. Peggy must’ve been extremely busy with the boom in volunteering and organizational programs and it was her job to make sure that everything there ran smoothly. She probably hadn’t had time to sleep, let alone text someone on her phone. But more importantly, relationships weren’t a one way street and he knew this. Maybe she was too busy to message him, but he wasn’t too busy to buy some lunch and bring it to her office. They were friends after all. And he was okay with that. 

He wanted to be her friend first, and pursue those feelings after they’d gotten to know each other more. After they’d gotten better at trust with one another. It’d come naturally, or maybe it wouldn’t come at all, but none of it would matter so long as Peggy Carter was his friend.

Looking in the mirror he thought of the boy that Peggy had known. Skinny, scrawny, tiny Steven Rogers. He was nothing like that boy now, but he was pretty sure he still had the same heart, the same core. Same fire. Same values. Same Steven Rogers that Peggy had known, even if the package came in a hunk of a man with more muscles than brain cells nowadays. Although, he pondered, scratching his beard, he did think of himself as really smart when it came to art history and filmography. So maybe he had as many muscles as brancells. He liked that idea.

Turning on the hot spray of water, he fell back into his old self. 

[A video that goes as follows. Peter is six or seven in this video, and beaming brightly at the camera. He’s got a paint set in front of him, and he looks extremely excited. 

Tony’s voice calls from behind the camera. “Alright, buddy. You wanted to start this YouTube channel for yourself with art. Wanna explain what you’re doing?”

“Yes!” Peter chirps, clearly enthusiastic. “Today, we’re gonna be painting rocks! Papa helped me pick out all the rocks.” He waddles over to the counter and stands on his tippy toes to grab a handful of small pebbles. “And now we’re gonna paint them, so we can put them back and everyone can see how pretty they are! If you watch this video, you gotta paint some rocks and show the world how pretty it can be!”

Tony flips the camera to himself, offering a grin. “He hasn’t learned the beauty of nature yet. He’s only seven.”

Peter huffs in the background. “Papa!”

The video cuts to a little later with Peter focusing really hard on what he’s doing. Tony hums, “What’re you doing, buddy?”

“‘M painting it blue,” Peter mumbles, being very very careful with the rock so that it’s painted a light shade of sky blue. He’s got paint all over his hands and a yellow smudge on his face. “Because blue is the color of the sky, and I bet rocks like the sky because they’re always lookin’ at the sky. Do you think rocks like the sky, papa?”

“I bet rocks love the sky, bambino.”

“That's good.” Peter blinks up at the camera, grinning. “Because I love the sky and I can’t be friends with rocks if they don’t like the sky.”

Tony just laughs. 

The video cuts one more time, and it’s Peter proudly holding up three multi color rocks. The blue one from the video is front and center, but there's also a vaguely rainbow one, where the colors blended together so it looks like its original shade of mud brown, and another one that's black with white dots on it like the night sky. It's very obvious to anyone watching that Tony made that one.

“Thanks for watching!” Peter waves with rocks in his hands. “Go paint rocks!” 

The video ends.]

Pretty Princess Peach @200sluttysluttyyeahs

Anyone else crying? Anyone else absolutely LOSING it over baby Peter Stark? No? Just me? Okay.

6.4k comments and replies    8k likes.

“I know MIT’s a good school, dad,” Peter told him for what felt like the millionth time, “I just don’t think it’s the school for me.” 

Tony shook his head, pointing his fork at his son. “You say that now, but you haven't seen the campus or gone to any of the frat stuff I asked you to look into. I know we agreed you were gonna wait a year before attending college, but I really think you should check out my alma mater, bud.”

“I don’t wanna join a frat or be adult enough to go on campuses or do anything like that,” Peter whined, and the fondness Tony felt for his son in that moment made him smile. “Can’t I just be pretty and act? I could marry Harry and be a sugar baby.”

“Okay, first of all-” Tony wrinkled his nose in disgust. “If you ever imply that you are gonna be Harry’s sugar baby again, I’m disowning you. Also, I thought Harry was into that guy from that fast food place- off topic. But, as much as it pains me, Pete, you are an adult who very unfortunately has to look at college at some point. So why not MIT?” 

“Because MIT’s where stuffy boring people go!”

“I went to MIT!”

“My point stands.” Peter grinned, stabbing some of the takeout they’d been eating with a fork. “And yes, Harry is into that guy from the fast food place. Problem is that the guy from the fast food place, Flash, does not respond well to being flirted with on the job. I keep telling Harry to knock it off but-”

“-he’s Harry and wants to use this Flash kid as a model?”

“Bingo.”

“Man, I miss that kid,” Shoveling food into his mouth, he looked at his son again, “So when is Harry coming back from France?”

“Another week at least.” Peter shrugged, then poked at his food. “And Ned’s gone for a week to England to hang with Betty’s family. I swear, those two are insufferable. It's all that he’s been talking about-” Peter cleared his throat and put on his best impression of his friend. “Betty and I are going to London! She’s gonna drive me around on her scooter! She’s so cool!”

“Careful bud, you sound jealous.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I love Betty, and I love their relationship.” Tony gave him a look. “Okay so I’m a little jealous of their relationship. Its hard to find love as an actor, and while I am very very happy that Ned and Betty found each other, when will I find love?”

Casually, Tony took a sip of water, humming. “How’s Harley?”

“You’re not funny ,” Peter huffed, crossing his arms. “You know that right? You’re not funny at all. I think you're probably the least funny person I’ve ever met. You know that right? You know you’re insufferable and terrible?”

“Oh, yes, I’m well aware.” Tony tried to keep the love out of his voice, but couldn’t manage it. “You didn’t answer me though. How is your Harls?”

“I hate you. I think I hate you- no, I know I hate you.” 

Smiling at his son, Tony just shook his head. “You may hate me, but I love you a lot kiddo- but back to the topic we were talking of before you started thinking about your giant crush on Harley-”

“-I don’t have a-!”

“-College,” Tony beamed, “MIT?” 

Peter just huffed, but offered him a small smile. “I’ll think about it. What about Columbia?”

“Columbia could be good-”

“Or CalTech?” Peter perked up, “I like CalTech.”

Tony gasped, pulling back from his son and pointing an accusatory fork. “You traitor! I’m disowning you.”

“Oh, stop being so dramatic- you could never disown me.”

“I could totally disown you,” Tony huffed, reaching over to steal some of Peter’s food. “You’re being disowned right now.”

Peter just shook his head, offering a grin, “You love me too much to disown me.”

“Yeah, you’re right, bambino,” Tony said fondly, settling back into the couch, “I love you too much to ever disown you.”

Chapter Text

[A photo of two girls- one chubby tan one with dark hair and Hispanic features in a pastel pink sweater and a blue skirt with fishnets and converse. Another girl who’s pale with green hair and green eyes in punk regalia- hanging off either side of Peter Stark, who looks like he's beaming. They’re in a club, evident by the lights and the crowd of people in the background.]

Punch A Homophobe @PastelPrincesa

Look who we ran into at the club last night! Was fantastic to meet @P.Stark ahhhhhhhh!!

108 Retweets and comments    200 likes

Steve wouldn’t say he was the biggest fan of clubs. He didn’t like loud noises, and he didn’t like bright lights, and he definitely didn’t enjoy the stiff hot air that came with so many people being crammed into a tiny venue, dancing, and drinking. In the past, back when he was a budding celebrity and not used to people mobbing him, he had enjoyed it. Mostly for the way it felt like everyone wanted to talk to him or be with him or look at him. He’d grown up since those days though, and now mostly stayed in his own lane. Why party when you could play card games with Tony? Why get drunk when you could curl in with a good book? And very recently- why spend time away from home when you could go call the girl of your dreams and talk to her for at least thirty minutes? 

He just normally felt like he had much better things to do than go clubbing. 

Which was why when he got the strongest urge to go to this one club he knew of- ‘Lux Nightclub’- he wasn’t sure why he wanted to go. Every part of him was sure he wanted to though, so he put on some of his nicer casual clothes, tousled his hair, and headed out. He was sure whatever itch in the back of his brain telling him he needed to be there would go away the second he was actually there and he could go back home and settle in for a nice relaxing phone call with Peggy. 

Of course, Steve was wrong. That itch to be in the club didn’t go away as he slipped past the bouncer and into the neon lights. It did give him a headache though, which he didn’t appreciate at all. Still, he figured if his gut wanted him here, he should be here. Finding his way to the bar, he ordered a rum and coke without the rum, then turned and watched. 

The crowd that night was a little younger than Lux was used too. Lux, from what he understood, was a pretty high-class establishment catering mostly to twenty-five year olds. The people he was spotting in the crowd today though looked as young as eighteen and as old as twenty-two. The thought made something heavy and gross settle in his gut, and he scowled. He definitely wasn’t comfortable with this. 

“Oh my God!” a girl shouted from next to him. “Oh my God!”

Preparing himself, Steve waited for the shouts of his name- and what came after made him wish that it was his name they shouted. 

“Peter Stark! Oh my God! It’s Peter Stark!”

“Ned Leeds! Ned Leeds! Oh my-”

“-Holy fuck, is that Harry Osborn?!”

The whole club was alive with people chatting about three boys who Steve knew a little too well. Scowling, he shifted off the stool. So that’s why his gut instinct had been so strong. He pushed his way through the mob that was forming around the three boys.

“Peter Benjamin!” he said sharply. “Edward Leo! Harrison Seung!”

“Oh shit-” Ned was the first to notice him through the mob, and the shorter boy nudged his two friends. “Guys- guys!”

“Put down that fucking drink, so help me God, I will call your mother, Harrison!” Steve’s voice was a shout to be heard over the crowd, and he reached to take the cup of what he hoped was just some sort of soda from Harry. “You know better than this! All three of you do!”

“Steve!” Peter yelped, as Harry groaned and hid his face in Ned’s shoulder. “It’s not what it looks like!”

“Really?! Because it looks like you- an eighteen year old- are holding two shot glasses, Peter!”

“That's not- these aren't-!”

Reaching for the boy's shoulders, he started pulling them away from the rest of the crowd. “Come on, you three, we’re going home.”

The boys stumbled together, Ned and Harry leaning on each other, and Peter attempting very very hard to walk in a straight line. Steve wished he could say that it was just the effects of the people around them trying to get videos, but a part of him knew way better than that. He’d never seen Peter or Ned or Harry go clubbing before, or drink for that matter, and he’d really hoped that the three of them wouldn’t until it was legal- but teens were teens apparently. 

That growing pit of dread didn’t leave his stomach until they left the club. The crowd around them was growing more intense, putting their cameras in the three boys' faces even as Steve tried his hardest to guide them in a way so that they wouldn’t have to be subjected to the cruel light of a cell phone lens. Finally, they made their way out of the club, and Steve guided them to where his car was waiting. 

He watched them get it, before slipping in himself, locking the doors, and whirling on the three boys in his back seat. “What the hell? What the hell were you guys thinking?!”

“I-” Ned hiccuped, chin wobbling- most likely because he was drunk and Steve was mad at them. “We-”

“-thought it'd be fun,” Harry mumbled, before saying something in Korean, then French, and finally slipping back into English, “It- one of my model friends said he could get us in-”

“So you three just went?” Steve didn’t mean for his voice to come out so sharp, but there was absolutely nothing more terrifying than finding three kids that he’d known for half their lives drinking in a club. “How long were you in there?”

“Only ten minutes,” Ned sniffed, leaning into Peter, who was staring hard at the back of his seat, not looking at Steve. “We’d been at another club though- Harry’s friend invited us to this other club, and then we went club hopping and- and-”

“And you just did it,” Steve ground out, looking at the three kids. There’d been a time when he had to help with their Halloween costumes and now look at them. Going out and getting drunk. “Without telling anyone? You- You three are in so much trouble. Does anyone responsible and over the age of twenty know where you three are?”

“No,” Harry mumbled in Korean, then corrected himself in English, “No, we didn’t tell anyone. I’m- I’m sorry, Steve.”

A lump of shame formed in Steve’s throat. He hadn’t meant to yell at them so hard. But that shame was quickly overwhelmed by pure and unregulated fear. Steve would never admit it to anyone- never to anyone because if it ever got out, he was sure he’d never hear the end of it from Tony and Bucky and everyone else- but he loved these kids. He had watched Peter grow up in front of his very eyes, and in doing so, had watched each one of the boys in his back seat grow and become men and yet- here they were. Drunk, in his back seat, avoiding his eyes. 

They could have been hurt. They could have been seriously hurt. Someone could have hurt them because they were drunk, and no one- no one- knew where they were. Someone could have taken advantage of them how Tony had been taken advantage of when he was young. Someone could have put something in their drinks or did something to them or hurt them in some way and none of their friends or family would have known where they were. 

Something white and hot lodged itself in his chest, and for a second he couldn’t breathe, before grinding out, “Where the fuck do your parents think you are right now because I know none of them would have let you out like this.”

“Mom thinks I’m at Betty’s.” Ned pressed his hands to his eyes, fighting back tears, clearly. “And Betty thinks I wanted a night at home with the boys.”

“My mom thinks I’m at Peter’s tonight,” Harry mumbled, before speaking in French- then remembering that Steve didn’t know French. “Father doesn’t care where I am.”

“And you, Peter?”

“Harley’s.” Peter finally spoke, voice tight. “Dad thinks I’m at Harley’s.”

“And where does Harley think you are?”

“He-” The kid’s voice became even tighter. “He found a post on social media and told me he was going to bed.”

“So all three of you-” Steve motioned to the three of them. “-had absolutely no one to come pick you up, or help you if you got into trouble? What happened if the paparazzi were to catch wind that you three were alone and drunk? What would happen if people who wanted to mug you found you three? What would happen if fans got a little too overzealous? Did any of you even begin to think about what the hell could have happened?” 

Harry shook his head, cheeks flushed with shame. Ned sniffed again. “We’re sorry.”

“You need to be more than sorry, Ned.” Steve tried to gentle his voice, but white-hot fear was still clogging his throat. “You three absolutely cannot do this again. When you are legally allowed to drink, and your parents okay it, then maybe you can- but this- this- this fucking- You three have only just turned eighteen! None of you guys are prepared for this kind of thing!”

“We just-” Ned swallowed back his tears. “This won’t happen again-”

“- and Peter!” Steve could feel his hands trembling. “What the hell is your father going to think when he realizes that his son- his son, who he gave up drinking for and did his best to provide for and instill good morals in- is in the back of my car smashed off his ass when I know Tony has begged you again and again and again not to do anything like this!”

It was an unfair statement to make- because Peter was at most tipsy, but the words felt like the most right he could say in that moment. Peter had more to lose in this fight than anyone else. If only because Peter knew how much this would kill Tony. How Tony couldn’t handle finding this out. The history of addiction, the nights in rehab, the days when he was a little tiny kid and would find his daddy crying over a smashed bottle on the floor because he didn’t want that around Peter anymore. Peter knew. Peter knew. 

The kid had steeled himself. Had tried to hide the fact that those words pierced his skin and punctured something deep in his heart. But Steve saw it in his eyes, that desperate plea for that not to be true, for his dad to still be proud of him, no matter how bad his actions were. He couldn’t take the pure realization of how bad that had been on Peter, so he turned the way, and finally, began driving. 

“We’re going to Peter’s house,” Steve started, voice serious. He couldn’t afford to not be the adult in the situation, just because he’d hurt Peter’s feelings with the truth. “And you two are going to call your parents and go home. Ned, I expect Betty will want a call as well, since if Harley saw something on social media, she probably has too. Harry-”

“-Eugene won’t care,” The boy mumbled, then shook his head, “I’ll text him anyway.”

Steve didn’t know who Eugene is, but he didn’t ask. “That's good. Let your friends- ones who don’t ask you three to go to clubs and get drunk off your ass- know that you’re okay and start hanging out with them instead. You understand me?”

The three boys just nodded. Peter swallowed, “Is my dad-”

“-going to be mad at you?” Steve met the boy's eyes in the mirror. “Yes. But believe me, Peter Benjamin Stark, he’s going to be more destroyed than anything.”

Looking away, he didn’t watch the way Peter’s face falls. He couldn’t change the harsh nature of the situation and he wouldn’t shield Peter from his own bad decisions. All he could do was be there to pick up Tony and his son when the night was over.

He’d always be there.

Peter Stark {✓} @P.Stark

Hey guys, I love my dad a lot- he’s the best dad ever. Just thought everyone should know that. 

10.2k comments and likes    12k likes

There was something extremely uncomfortable about being angry at his son. 

Tony wasn't exactly used to feeling anything but pride and joy towards Peter. There were maybe three times in Peter’s entire life that he could actively remember being mad at his son, and even those times he wasn’t angry long enough for it to settle into his stomach and make a home there. He was never angry enough at Peter for it to show in his bones and make him feel raw and uncomfortable and upset. That just- that wasn’t a thing. 

He was used to his son who never wanted to get in trouble. He was used to his son that made him feel like the proudest father in the world because he was responsible and kind and gentle and everything Tony wasn’t. 

He wasn’t used to looking at Peter and being upset with him. He just didn’t think that those emotions would ever bubble in his chest when he looked at his son. 

But here he was, the morning after Steve had- thankfully- caught Peter drunk at a club with his friends. And that pit in his stomach was just growing and growing and growing. He’d never been mad or scared or upset at Peter for a period longer than an hour- and a part of him hated that he was even upset at this because he knew he was way worse when he was eighteen. But that was kind of the point. 

He didn’t want Peter to become like him. 

Every other time Peter had been in trouble, it had never been because Peter was repeating his mistakes. The first time had been because he’d tried to run away one time as kids do sometimes, he had rationalized because Peter had shown up thirty minutes later on the front porch with a scraped knee, and the brief panic and terror that had seized Tony had made him angry to the point of tears, but that quickly evaporated and he just scoped his son up and kissed his hurt knee. The second time had been so stupid, but he hadn’t wanted Peter to have Twitter, too terrified of what could happen, who could be out there, childhood stardom rambling through his head and urging him to protect his son- and Peter got a Twitter anyway, but that pang of annoyance was erased when Peter started beaming at his phone every time someone commented on something.

And then Peter had tried out for the Avengers. Despite Tony’s direct insistence that he not. He wanted to protect him, shelter him, help him understand that sometimes stardom is better handled later in life when you’re not so young and impressionable and Peter had directly gone against his wishes and behind his back. But even that had been overshadowed by the very real pride that overwhelmed him when he realized that Peter had gone out and did that all on his own. 

This wasn’t like those times. This wouldn’t just go away. This was- this was a heart-gripping fear and a terrifying realization of how close Peter could’ve been to being sucked down the rabbit hole of drugs and alcohol and parties and yes he knew that this was an overreaction but he had started with just one club and just one party and now it was still a struggle to stay sober. He only did stay sober because of Peter. And he didn’t want Peter to be throwing that away for a fucking party.

“Dad?”

He tensed. There was one thing he was even worse at then dealing with anger or disappointment or shame towards his son- actually facing Peter. A part of him knew he needed to have this talk with him, but another, more vulnerable, more raw part, wanted to hide itself away and pretend like he last night- like Steve driving them home, like Peter arriving home drunk, like the flashbacks to rehab and struggling to commit to sobriety- hadn’t happened. 

But he couldn't pretend that it hadn’t happened. He cleared his throat, shaking his head. 

“Come here. Sit down. We need to talk.”

“I-” Peter made his way into the room, like a puppy with his tail between his legs. “Dad, I’m really-”

“Don’t you dare say that you’re sorry.” Tony wasn’t sure where the venom was coming from, but he was almost certain that part of it was from the way Peter looked like he had a hangover. Looked like he was recreating all of Tony’s mistakes. “Don’t you fucking dare, Peter Benjamin Stark. I don’t want to hear your half-hearted and half-assed apology.”

His son winced, and looked down. “It’s not-”

“No, Peter!” He struggled with keeping his voice down, the overwhelming urge to scream all his fears at his son flaring up in his bones and making him angry. “No. You don’t get to say that whatever apology you have is half assed, just like you don’t get to say that you’re sorry. Not when I know better than that.”

“I just-” Peter swallowed, looking up at him. “Dad…”

“I let you get away with a lot.” Tony’s hands were trembling against the table, and that deep uncomfortable feeling that had found a home in his stomach had started to spread. “I let you get away with practically everything, because you’re my son and I love you. But how dare you- how dare you go out clubbing without my permission. Without anyone knowing where you were or who you were with. Without a way to contact me or anyone who could help if you were to get into trouble. You- you- I’m angry at you.”

Peter looked down, hiding his face from Tony, but that didn’t stop his rant. “You are my son. I raised you to be better than a man who goes out drinking at eighteen! I raised you to be smarter, and kinder, and better than that type of person! I told you time and time again not to drink and that under my household that we do not participate in drinking or anything like that!” 

“You’ve disappointed me, Peter!” Tony’s voice was a yell now, and he stood up to pace. “You’ve disappointed me! I never ever thought you could ever do this because you’ve always been my pride and joy, but watching Steve drive into our house with you in the back drunk- I don’t even know how to look at you! I begged you and taught you and pleaded with you for years and years and years to not become like me and look at who you are now! You went to a club and got drunk, and it’s all over social media!”

Finally, the words that had been echoing in his head from the beginning made their way out of his mind and into the world. 

“I didn’t want you to be like me!” 

“Papa,” Peter sniffed, pressing his hands to his eyes, voice catching, “Please don’t say that-”

Anger boiled hot in his veins. “Say what, Peter?! Say I didn’t want my son to be an eighteen-year-old drunk with drinking problems and mental issues and no will to live?! Say I didn’t want you to become as tired and worn out and miserable as I was back then?! I didn’t want you to become like me! I didn’t want you to become like me because you were always supposed to be better than me! You were supposed to be better!”

“I’m not better!” Peter finally sobbed, and Tony flinched back, anger leaving his body as he watched his eighteen-year old son- the boy who was still so very much a child- break down into the worst sobs Tony had ever heard. “I’m not better! Papa! I’m not better! I’m stupid and irrational and angry and me and Harley got into a fight and then Harry said his friend wanted to hang out and then we were all drinking and I just wanted to be normal- I wanted it all to stop- I needed this pressure on my chest to leave!”

Tony didn’t know how to breath as he watched his bambino cry out, “I’m so tired of having to be better than you and having people come up to me every day and ask things of me that I don’t know how to respond too or listen too- and I- Papa, I just wanted to be a normal kid, and normal kids drink! 

“Normal kids go to parties with their friends and don’t have to worry if their bad deeds get front page news!” Peter gasped out, choking on the force of the words, “Normal kids can be happy and breath and live a better life than this and get to have fun! Maybe I don’t want to be better! Maybe I just started to like who I am and now that everyone is looking at me constantly, I don’t! Maybe I wanted to be like you because you’ve always been my hero and I never ever ever wanted to disappoint you, Papa!”

“I didn’t mean to be a disappointment.” Peter’s tears were heavy now, and each one was like a knife to Tony’s gut. “I didn’t want to be- I just wanted to be normal. But now I’ve hurt you and disappointed you and I can’t do anything right because Harley’s still not talking to me either and I’m so so sorry, Papa! Please- I’m so- I can’t- Papa-” 

Gently, he made his way over to his crying son, and sat next to him, scooping him up into a hug like he was still three and wanted nothing more than to sit on his papa’s knee while they read. Peter clutched at him in a way that hurt so much more than the tears, and he rubbed his back. 

“Oh bambino, you’re not a disappointment,” Tony murmured, smoothing out the curls on Peter’s forehead. “You’ve never been a disappointment. I’m upset with your actions, and I’m not happy with them, and your actions have disappointed me, but you aren’t a disappointment. You’re my son, who I love more than anything in the world and who I’ve always wanted to be safe, and happy and taken care of.”

“But I-”

Tony cut him off as gently as he could. “I know. I know. But I promise that one bad night of actions doesn’t erase the eighteen years of me having the absolute most amazing kid in the universe. Even if you did what you did last night every night, I still would have the most fantastic kid ever known to man. Wanna know why?”

“Why?” Peter sniffled, pressing his face more into his shoulder.

“Because you are the light of my life,” Tony said softly. “You bring joy to everyone around us. You are the reason that I get up in the morning and face the day, because I love you more than I ever thought possible. You are the best kid I could’ve ever gotten and you are the most perfect one too. I am so sorry, that I yelled at you like that, Peter. You didn’t deserve it, bambino, and I’m sorry.”

Slowly, Peter's sobs slowed down, and Tony just let his son clutch at him for a bit before speaking again. 

“Kiddo, we need to talk about how you’ve been feeling. If you don’t wanna talk to me- that’s okay. We can get you a therapist like we did when you were a kid. Is- is there something happening on social media I should know about?” 

Tony knew how hard it is to be a child star. Remembers magazines asking intrusive questions about his abs or his ass or his current girlfriend. Remembers all of those things that haunted him day in and day out for years. It’s his worst fear- that happening to Peter. 

“No, papa,” Peter whispers, “I don’t- no one treats me like they did to you back then. No one treats me like Steve. It’s not- I’m not being sexualized.”

His heart pangs for his son, because Peter shouldn’t have to fear that. “But if you are- we can find a way-”

“We can’t stop fans from thinking and saying what they want,” his son- his baby, this boy in his arms was once the baby he brought home and raised up- insisted. “And even more, it’s not happening. I just- I wasn’t expecting the influx of people wanting something from me- a quote or a smile, or a photo. It’s just overwhelming sometimes.”

This was why he’d wanted to shield Peter from this, his mind screamed, but he just calmly rubbed Peter’s back and said as softly as he could, “I know. I’d be happy to help it be a little less overwhelming.”

“You don’t make it overwhelming,” Peter said at once, eyes wet. “You and Harley and Steve and Ned and Harry- you guys all make it easier. It’s just- sometimes a lot.”

Tony didn’t comment on how Harley was second on that list; he knew he didn’t need to. Instead he kissed his son’s hair and whispered softly, “I’ll always try to help make a lot a little. Okay?”

“Okay.” Peter finally pulled back, but he lingered hesitantly, and asked like a scared kid, “Papa?”

“Yes?”

“Am I really not a disappointment?”

“Oh bambino,” Tony murmured, pulling his son back into a tight hug. “You never could be.”

[Screenshot of Steve Rogers on an Instagram Live, clearly after having worked out at the gym, because he’s sweaty and he's got his abs completely out and on display. Behind him, Peter Stark is also working out, but people can barely see him. Tony Stark is sitting on a chair at the corner of the room, reading a book. 

The next image is another screenshot from Steve Rogers but this time it's Steve curled up in bed, looking exhausted and cold, the way he’s holding the phone gives him a bit of a double chin and makes him look very soft and dad-like.]

Notice me Stevepai   @SteveRogersBiggestStan

GET YOU A MAN :hand clap emoji: :hand clap emoji: :hand clap emoji: WHO CAN DO :hand clap emoji: :hand clap emoji: :hand clap emoji: BOTH! :hand clap emoji: :hand clap emoji: :hand clap emoji:

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“What’s got you in that mood, Harley?” 

Harley grunted, not looking up at his godmother, instead just scrolling on his phone harder. “What mood?”

“That one,” Peggy huffed, moving to sit next to him on the couch, raising a brow at him. “You’re pouting, but you’re angry, and you’re also annoyed. So come on, fess up. What's wrong?” 

“You shouldn’t be allowed to interact with people. I swear to God in some past life you were a super spy who was able to read everyone's emotions and manipulated the government or something, Peggy.”

“That's to be determined, Harley.” She poked his side, and he finally looked up, throwing her a glare. “So stop being a baby and talk to me, or I’ll make you.” 

“You couldn’t make me do anything,” he mumbled, but he finally sat up and ran a hand through his hair, sighing quietly. “I just- I don’t know. Me and Peter got into a fight and I really don’t like it, you know?”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Harley shrugged, pulling at the fuzz on his sweatshirt. It wasn’t like a bad fight- or at least, he was pretty sure it wasn’t a bad fight. He just wanted- well- he just wanted them to be talking again. Which was kind of stupid because he was the one who had opted to stop talking to Peter a few days ago, and now he just really couldn’t figure out how to apologize for that. 

“I just want to like-” He tugged on his hair gently, breathing out shakily. “It was like. Okay, we were calling, and talking about Star Wars and i think he was upset about something because he was really snappy, and he almost yelled at me for- for- for making a joke about him getting a role as Percy Jackson or something, and it just felt wrong. He started rambling about how he wanted to be a normal kid and it was really frustrating that he was ranting to me about that.”

“Like- I’m in and out of hospital most of the year!” He tugged at his hair again. “And I would love to be able to do all the things he can! And I know that’s not what he meant to imply! I know he’s complaining about how he’s a celebrity and he’s got so much shit surrounding him constantly and how people are always wanting something from him but- but- I would love to be able to go to a concert or party or something else and not have to keep an eye on my health and how I’m feeling and- he can! Peter can do things that I can’t and he just talks about it like it's this big burden and- ugh!”

He tugged at his hair a last time, harder than he had the last two. Peggy’s soft hands found their way to his, and she gently untangled them from his hair, and soothed where he had been tugging. 

“Have you told him that?”

“No,” Harley whispered, trying to ignore how tears of frustration were building in his eyes. “I haven't texted him in two days. I just- don’t know what to say I guess. And then there's the whole drinking thing, and I asked him not to do that because I thought it was a bad idea but he did anyway and- just- is this what being friends is like?”

Peggy pursed her lips at him, clearly thinking. “Yes, and no. Sometimes, being friends with someone is about having a few spats here and there. Lord knows me and your mother got into fights all the time. It's the ability to make up after fights, and be able to reach out to one another, that makes two people friends. But this is kind of tricky- because of the way you two are, and who you two are.”

“What do you mean?”

“Harley, for all intents and purposes, you’re a normal kid,” she said softly. “Sure, you’ve got the heart disease, and yes, you haven’t had a very conventional life, and most likely you’re going to be in and out of hospital for a long long time but- you don’t have to deal with invasion of privacy, and people watching your every move, waiting for you to slip up.”

Guilt wound up in Harley’s throat, but he swallowed it down. “I don’t know if anyone’s waiting for Peter to slip up though- I think everyone thinks of him as someone who can do no wrong, which- which makes being upset with him harder, because I think he’s in the wrong- or maybe I’m in the wrong or-”

“Harley,” Peggy chided, hands still soothing over his hair. “Don’t pull yourself into your head, and don’t make assumptions about Peter. He’s your friend. You’re his friend. You know him, and you know that he’s human. Of course he can do wrong- but I also think you need to remember that neither of you are in the wrong here. He’s perfectly normal for wanting something different than he has, just like you are.” 

“I just- I asked him not to go out drinking.” Harley didn’t like the way his voice trembled.“I wasn't comfortable with the knowledge that he was drinking underage and that no one but me and Ned and Harry knew. I asked him not to, because it made me nervous, but he did.” 

“Do you think he did it to hurt you?”

“Of course not!” Shaking his head, he pulled away from her. “Peter doesn’t like hurting people.”

“Have you told him that this is hurting you, then?”

“No- I-”

Peggy interrupted him, voice gentle yet stern, “You need to tell him that. You can only keep up friendships if you talk to him about what you’re feeling.”

“Look, I know it sounds hard,” she prodded when he didn’t respond, “I know that you personally abhor talking about your feelings. Macy did too, believe it or not. But you have too, or else it’ll build like a pressure cooker against your anxiety and you’ll blow up. Just- please remember that while Peter is a celebrity and technically has all the money and wealth in the world, he really doesn’t have privacy or a life. He’s living with expectations that you and I and everyone else doesn't have and those could be hard on him. It doesn’t excuse his actions, but you have to be considerate of him.”

Swallowing down the hollow put in his stomach, he shifted to run a hand through his hair again but didn’t tug at her sharp look. “I know, Peggy. I just- is that why you’ve been so hesitant about hanging out with Steve?” 

“Oh- I’m not-” Peggy sighed, and ran a hand through her own hair, and he wondered quietly how often they mirrored each other, “I’m trying not to be hesitant about spending time with Steve. It’s just- things are different now. We hardly know each other, now. I mean- he still doesn’t know about Macy, and he certainly doesn’t know about Fred, and he’s an entirely new person who might have changed and grown past the want for us to be as close as we once were.”

“He doesn’t know about Fred?” Harley sat up, frowning. “I thought he would’ve gotten a wedding invite.”

His godmother just shook her head. “We never got to that stage, remember? We had barely gotten engaged when Macy’s health turned, and when he said he’d leave me if I took you in well- I kicked him out without hesitation. So no wedding invites were sent out, and Steve most definitely is not privy to my romantic endeavors.”

“But you want him to be.”

“I don’t know him yet, Harley,” she insisted, instead of answering. “He’s grown as a person and so have I. I can’t say whether or not I want to date Steve because we haven’t gotten to know each other again- the real each other, not the one the media shows of him, and definitely not the idealized version he shows to everyone else. I just- this conversation was about you and Peter.” 

“It was,” Harley agreed, then gave her a look. “But now it’s about you and Steve. Peg, you gotta talk to him. Like, don’t get me wrong, I definitely don’t like the guy, and I think you deserve literally so much better than that prick, but- well- you like him. I know you say you don’t know him, but from what you’ve talked about in calls and your lunch dates, I think it’s safe to say that you want to know him.” 

“Don’t call Steve a prick,” Peggy said offhandedly as she considered his words.

 Harley fought back a smile, just looking at her fondly. “All I’m saying is that you need to talk to him more to understand what he wants and what you want. I think that you two need some serious communication and then you will finally be happy.”

“I am happy,” she responded automatically, but still considered his words carefully. “I don’t know. I really would just like to be friends to get to know each other again, I think. He deserves me not to come in with a mindset that just because there was mutual attraction once, doesn’t mean there's mutual attraction again.”

“So you admit you’re attracted to him?”

“I never said that.” Her cheeks flushed in a very un-Peggylike manner. “Just that- oh- you need to shut up, when I know you have a crush on-”

“Ned Leeds? Of course I have a crush on Ned Leeds. But alas, I live for Ned to be happy, so I can’t steal him from Betty.”

Peggy shook her head, “And I’m the one you call a disaster. Honestly, Harley, please just drop me getting into a relationship with Steve until I know him better?”

“Of course,” he lied, grinning. 

She gave him an unimpressed look, and shook her head. He looked back at his phone, and hesitated, before opening a text to Peter. 

Communication. He could do this.

The "Buckster" {✓} @JamesBarnes

Happy Veterans day to all my fellow Vets, remember to support our servicemen and women by donating to your local veterans organization!

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“Hey, kid.”

Harley stiffened, tugging at his sleeve. He really didn’t want to be there, but when Peggy had told him Steve and Bucky wanted to talk to him and apologize for the rough start, he’d figured he should try to forgive them. They were technically his mother's best friends and Peggy and Steve were…something. But he still didn’t like this at all.

“Please don’t call me kid.”

“Okay,” Steve nodded, not putting up a fight. “Hey, Harley.”

“Steve.” He tried not to be so stiff, but he was already tired of this conversation. “Bucky.”

Bucky’s eyes were soft, and for a moment all he could picture was the soft pastels his mother used to draw with. “It’s nice to meet you again Harley.”

“Yeah.” Tugging at his sleeve again, he shifted. “Um, so- what do you guys want?”

“Mostly?” Bucky started, speaking slowly, “I really would just want to apologize. I think- no, I know that I was being an asshole. And that wasn’t fair to you at all. I just- This isn’t an excuse, but I was really shocked that Macy had a son. You can ask your mom- we really cared about each other back in the day- and it was just a big shock. Plus the realization it was Jack she had a son with…it shocked me, and I spoke without thinking and I was a dick. I’m sorry, Harley.”

Guilt flooded his gut, and he shook his head. “You’re okay. You didn’t do anything too bad just- um-” 

“But it was kinda bad, Harley,” Bucky reasoned when he didn’t continue. “I was really unkind, and it wasn’t fair to you. Your parents aren’t you and I know that. I didn’t mean to take out my shock and me being upset at you and that doesn’t excuse the fact that I did. It was just plain mean, Harley.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” The guilt was sinking in a little more and he cleared his throat. “Peggy… Peggy still hasn’t told you about my mom, has she?”

Steve spoke up, voice kind. “She told us you didn’t want us to know, but we know something must have happened to put you in her care.”

“We’d like to know what happened though,” Bucky interjected. “If that's okay with you.”

“What do you want to know, I guess?” 

“Anything.” 

“Everything.” 

Harley swallowed hard. How was he supposed to do this? It was clear to him that the two of them still cared about his mom a lot and they still didn’t know about her death. She was- she was gone and they didn’t know. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say for this. 

“I- I guess I’ll start from the beginning.” Focusing hard on his sleeve, he took a deep breath. “You guys know my mom started dating Jack a month before graduation, right?”

“Yeah,” Bucky hummed, brows furrowed. “We were really upset with her for it but we didn’t let it ruin our senior year.”

Harley nodded, mumbling, “Yeah. Mom always said he was a mistake, but she’d do it again if it meant she got me from it. It was uh- it was- a hard time for her. You guys remember her brother David? He uh- he died a few weeks after graduation, and her and Jack ended up going back to Rosehill to mourn.”

“David’s dead?” Steve spoke, eyes wide. “Shit- is Macy alright? Is she still grieving?”

“No she-” Harley took a deep breath. “My mom um- my mom took it really hard, and that led to a lot of mistakes with Jack. It was around that time he uh, he started hitting her. And she just kinda took it for a long time, and well- she didn’t know how to get out because she thought no one but Peggy would care.”

Bucky’s shoulders had grown stiff, and Harley could see the effort it took not to yell or be upset. “She didn’t think I would care?”

“She always thought you two hated him enough that you’d just say I told you so.” Harley took another deep breath, trying to keep himself really calm. “When she got pregnant with me, he stopped for awhile. She always said I was the biggest blessing she ever could’ve gotten, and she immediately told Peggy- she um. She didn’t know how to reach out to you two, since you-” He motioned to Bucky. “-were in the army and you-” He motioned to Steve. “-had always been really really angry at Jack and she just, didn’t know what to say, I guess.” 

“She didn’t feel like she could trust us.” Steve looked like he’d been kicked, eyes wide. “I- I didn’t know she felt like that.”

“She- she still cared about you guys a lot,” Harley tried to assure him. “She’d take me to every single movie you were in so that she could point you out and tell me about y’all. She- she used to keep a framed photo of Bucky on her desk.”

Bucky flinched. “She did?”

“Yeah,” Harley cleared his throat, and then sighed. “Mom left Jack when I was five because he was hitting me. I already had enough health problems, and well, she wouldn’t let me get hurt. So we left, and Peggy took us in for a while, until mom could get back on her feet a little more.”

“Makes sense,” Steve mumbled. “They were always really close.”

Harley swallowed, the words feeling numb in his throat. “I- you two- I, um.” His voice broke. “My mom got diagnosed with cancer when I was ten. She um…she fought it really hard. It was a lot of hard times, and it was just…it was a lot.”

Realization dawned on their faces- pure dread, eyes wide, faces pale. It was almost more than Harley could bear. 

“She held on for two more years before she passed,” he whispered. “Peggy took me in when she died. She- her last few days were spent watching your movies, Steve, with the two of us. And she- she still kept a photo of you, Bucky, by her hospital bed until the end. She went in her sleep and um, we were by her side the entire time.”

“No-” Steve's voice was trembling. “No- she- what?”

Bucky didn’t respond, instead just standing up, pacing hard. Harley’s own grief at his mom’s death tugged at his heart, and he had to force himself to look away from them. “We- me and Peggy- we tried to get in contact with you. After- for the funeral. We didn’t get a response, so we- we figured you didn’t know or-”

Harley bit himself back from saying or care, because it's clear in the way Steve was running his hand over his face, eyes welling with tears that Steve did care. He didn’t need to look at Bucky to see his reaction. His mom had described Bucky to him in so much detail when he was a kid that he could see the grief and rage like it was still one of Macy Keener’s stories about high school. They did care, he realized, trembling, they cared, but they hadn’t known for five years that their bestest friend had died. 

“She’s gone?” Steve’s voice finally broke the silence/ “Macy’s gone? She- oh God, I should’ve been there, and I should’ve apologized and- fuck-”

“Steve-” Harley swallowed down the lump in his throat. “It's okay. It’s okay. She loved you guys. She loved you so much- and- and I know it's hard to lose her, because it still hurts me every day, and this is all fresh for y’all and-”

Bucky snapped, and the rage his mom had once classified as charming came out as a fist against a wall. Memories that Harley didn’t process flooded him, and he fought back a reaction like a panic attack, instead just jerking to his feet, looking for a way out. There was none- Bucky was by the door. On the floor, next to the part of the wall Bucky punched, a framed photo of Macy Keener layed knocked off the wall, its glass shattered. 

“I-” Bucky stared at the photo, tears running down his face, and Harley tried desperately to breathe. “I shouldn’t have done that- she- she really hated it when I was mad.”

He needed out. He needed out. He was just barely seventeen, he shouldn’t be in charge of two grieving men- he shouldn’t be the one that they processed their grief with- not when it was his mom and his trauma and god dammit, Bucky punched a wall and unlocked something feral and scared that he hadn’t felt since he was five. He couldn’t even be upset with the older man because he had just found out his childhood sweetheart had been dead for five years and- and- Harley was gonna be sick. 

Steve was staring at his hands in horror, probably processing that Macy was gone, and Buck’s eyes were still glued to the picture and Harley couldn’t breath at all. 

The doorbell rang, and it sent him flying into action. He needed an out, and this was that out, even if he had no idea who or what was on the other side of that door. He just needed an out, as fast as he could. Throwing it open, he barely registered the brown curls and the sunglasses, before jerking away from the house, taking Peter’s hand, and dragging him back to the car Peter had come from. 

“Woah, woah,” Peter’s voice was soft, and his thumb was rubbing circles on the soft part of Harley’s palm, and he didn’t know why but suddenly he could breathe again. “Hey, Harls, what’s wrong? What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Harley shook his head, collapsing into his friends side, pressing his face to Peter’s shoulder. “I- I-” 

Peter wasted no time before gently scooping Harley closer, holding his friend in a slightly protective manner. He’d seen Ned and Peter relax like this all the time, and it felt comforting to be able to be like them. His friend’s hand slipped up the back of his shirt to trace the skin there. “Talk to me, Harls, please? Tell me if you’re alright?”

“I am now,” Harley mumbled, and it felt true enough. “I am now.” 

“It’s okay if you’re not,” Peter told him, settling something in his chest and making him feel like fire. “You know that, right? It’s okay if you’re not alright.”

“I know.” The words were starting to get lighter on his tongue, and he pressed his face into Peter's neck and breathed in his best friend. “But I am now.” 

Peter didn’t ask him any more questions after that, and they sat in the car together in silence, with Harley’s face in Peter’s neck, and Peter’s hands tracing soothing patterns onto Harley’s back.

Chapter Text

Peter Stark {✓} @P.Stark

Sometimes all you really love and need is a friend who cares about you. (Yes, I am vague posting about my bestest friend in the whole world who got up from our movie session to make me a milkshake.)

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Ned-ward Leeds {✓} @NL.Leeds

CANT BELIEVE YOU AND HARLEY JUST HANG OUT WITHOUT ME AND HARRY AS IF WE’RE NOTHING. @P.Stark EXPLAIN YOURSELF.

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Peter Stark {✓} @P.Stark

Oops busted

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The rain in California always surprised Tony. He knew that rain happened in California- he’d lived here his whole life- but it always felt like a surprise. Like a little gift tied with a bow and sent to the earth with a kiss of love. There were very few things that he loved more than a relaxing and nice thunderstorm where the world came crashing down and the rain pattered on his windowsills, making him feel warm .

Peter and Harley had come home just before the storm, the younger of the two looking still shaken but better than what Peter had texted him about. In all honesty, he was extremely proud of his son for being able to pull together like that and be there for his crush- friend. Peter liked to insist that they were just friends and not a cute little mutual crush as if the way that Peter had protectively pulled Harley to his side and declared that he was staying the night while the storm passed was extremely platonic and not exactly how Mary had acted with Richard and him. Harley hadn’t protested beyond a soft statement that he’d leave if Tony wasn’t okay with it. 

Of course, he was, though. He loved Harley a lot these days- Peter having a normal friend was a godsend and a blessing that he had always wanted since his son was a little boy. The two of them made their way upstairs, leaving Tony downstairs curled up with a book, just getting lost in his mind, thinking of all the things he loved about the world and the weather and his kids. 

The knock on the front door startled him, but he didn’t think much of it when Peter had said they were gonna order pizza. It was not, in fact, the pizza man on his front doorstep, but…Bucky. 

“Barnes-” Tony whispered, reaching for the other man. “Hey, hey- it's okay. It's okay.”

Bucky jerked his head no, and pulled Tony to him, pressing his face into Tony’s hair like it was a lifeline that he needed to get air in his lungs. “I can’t- I couldn’t be alone- and Steve is with Peggy and I can’t be alone right now- can I- please, can I stay here?”

“Of course, Barnes,” Tony said into the small of his neck, acutely aware of how ridiculous it was to be on his tippy toes, hugging a man that was soaked to the bone. “Of course. Come on, let's go- let’s go upstairs.”

Maybe it was selfishness, or maybe it was genuine concern but he wanted Bucky in his room for whatever emotional moment that they were about to share. He didn’t want Harley coming down the stairs and seeing Bucky like this, not when the boy had still looked shaken when he got there- and he definitely didn’t want Peter to see Bucky, because Peter had texted him about how he was mad at Bucky for punching Harley’s wall and triggering him and that confrontation could be saved for a day when Bucky wasn’t crying harder than he thought was physically possible. 

Bucky was malleable to his touch, letting Tony guide him up the stairs and down the hallway to the master bedroom, his eyes red-rimmed and trained on where Tony’s hand was holding his. “I won’t ask what happened- but, if you want to talk-”

“I need to,” Bucky gasped out, sob just behind his voice, “I need to talk. To you- to someone- just- I need a friend.” 

“And that’s what I’m here for,” Tony told him, gently guiding him past the bedroom and to the master bath, sitting him on a tub and grabbing a soft white towel to dry off his friend. “I’m here to be your friend. To listen. I want to be here, and I want to listen. Okay?”

“Okay,” Bucky heaved, letting Tony do what he wanted, letting the older man dry him off and strip him down- and Tony knew if he wasn’t currently comforting a man wracked with grief, he’d be thinking past the comfort and panic. “I just- she’s gone.”

Tony swallowed, moving away from Bucky temporarily to go to his closet and get a sweatshirt and sweatpants that might fit him, returning to gently usher him into the dry clothes. “I know. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“She’s gone, Tony,” Bucky repeated, pulling on the clothes with a small sob. “Macy Keener- the brightest light in the entire world- just gone. She’s- she’s just gone. And me and Steve- we didn’t know! We didn’t know! God- she’s gone-”

“I know, honey.” The pet name slipped out as he gently tugged Bucky back into another hug. “I know. And I’m so so sorry that she’s gone. I know she meant something to you.”

Bucky was trembling and he moved the both of them to the bed, pulling Tony onto his lap with shaking arms. “More than something- she was- god, she was my first love. She was the woman I thought I’d marry after high school. I can’t- she was everything to me- and we drifted apart- and now she’s gone.” 

“You’re right.” Tears welled in Tony’s eyes too, and he blinked them back. The grief he felt for this man- this man who had stolen his heart- was almost too much to bear. “Life took someone good from you and I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not-” Bucky gasped out in between sobs, pressing himself closer to Tony. “I’m not even in love with her anymore, but she still meant so much to me, Tony- and this hurts- this hurts so bad- I just-”

His voice tapered off, so Tony took the cue to finish the sentence. “You’re grieving. You don’t have to be in love with someone to mourn them fully. I- I wasn’t in love with Peter’s other parents, but when they died I felt like I had lost a piece of me.”

“That’s exactly it.” Bucky sagged, voice trembling. “I lost a piece of me.”

“Well, another one.” The joke slipped out before Tony could stop it, but it got a soft watery smile out of Bucky, so he counted it as a win. “I can’t promise you that piece of you will ever come back, honey, but I can promise you that one day, you’re gonna wake up, and although it’s gonna hurt like fucking hell, you’re gonna breath out and remember that its gonna be okay. It’s gonna be okay. And it’ll feel like you’ve gotten through the wind of the storm, and you’ve found yourself on the other side, somewhere quiet and peaceful. That storm’s still gonna be there some days, but each day it’ll get easier to face it. I promise you.”

Bucky’s sobs began to become less frequent. “I’m scared of living in a world where Macy Keener isn’t out there somewhere offering a bit of sunshine to people.”

“Make your own sunshine,” Tony said immediately.  “Make your own sunshine. If you- you loved her a lot, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then continue what she did every day. Make your own sunshine for her.”

Bucky nodes, shoulders still trembling but sobs subsiding. “You’re my sunshine. You- you and Peter and Steve and Sam- and- and now, Harley and Peggy. She- she can’t be around to see you all so I will.”

“Oh-” Tony ignored the way his heart tightened. “Okay. Okay. Then that’s what you’ll do, okay?  Until you remember how to breathe, you tell her- even if it's just you talking to air at her grave- you tell her about her son. About the man he’s become. You tell her about Peggy and Steve and how they’ve fallen back together like they were made to do this. You tell her about Sam and the adventures you’ve had being a personal assistant to a world-famous actor. You tell her about your life and all the people in it. You tell her about Peter and you tell her about me.”

“Okay,” Bucky whispered, still holding him tightly. “Yeah. Yeah- she- she would’ve loved you so much, Tony. You and her- you two would’ve gotten along like a wildfire and you would’ve loved her so much. She was brilliant and kind and had that same spark for life that you do and you would’ve loved her so much. She would’ve made you smile because she does that thing you do with the nicknames and you would’ve gotten into a competition to find out who could create the worst ones and- I keep thinking about that. Thinking about you and her because- because- you two, sometimes, feel like the only people who ever understand me.”

Tony’s chest tightened again, and he pressed a soft kiss onto Bucky’s shoulder. “I’ll always understand you. I’ll always be here to listen- and Bucky, I’m honored that you think I’m anything like her. I never met Macy, but the way you talk about her, the way Steve has talked about her, the way Peggy and Harley talk about her- the fact that you think I’m anything like her is the greatest honor I’ve ever gotten. Thank you.”

“I should be thanking you.” Those arms tightened around him further. “You make me remember how to feel again in moments like this where all I can see is the storm. And I- I  don’t wanna see the storm, Tony. I wanna remember her sunshine and stand in your warmth. That’s what I want. I just want to be able to breathe and be there and remember her for who she was when she was mine.”

“I’ll always be here to keep you warm.” The words rolled off his tongue and he fought back a flush at the way the softness trailed through his voice. “Please- I’m your friend, Barnes. When you’re in that storm of grief and pain and rage, I’m here. I want to be here. I want to be here with you to bring you out of the eye of the hurricane and back into the sunshine like Macy Keener would’ve wanted. She loved you too, Bucky. She loved you too.”

Bucky stayed silent for a moment, hands trembling quietly as he contemplated Tony’s words. “I love her. Even- even if it's not romantic, I think a part of my heart will always be hers because of how much she meant to me. She was- she is one of the best friends I’ve ever had. I don’t- I don’t believe in soulmates but I do believe that some people got souls that just go with another’s, and she’s one of the only two people I’ve ever met who’s like that. Her and you. You both- you would’ve loved her so much Tony.”

“I would’ve,” Tony murmured, instead of focusing on how his heart pounded at the implication that he was Bucky's soulmate. “I would’ve loved her so much, and you, her, and I would’ve been best friends. I promise you if nothing else, that we would’ve all loved each other just as much as you and I love each other now. We would’ve all been friends.”

“Thank you,” Bucky rasped after a second. “Thank you for being my friend, Tony. I know- I know it may not seem like much but it means everything-”

“-It means everything to me too,” Tony said quickly, pressing his face more into his shoulder. “I really love being your friend.”

“I love being your friend too,” Bucky gasped out, tears in his eyes. 

They sat in silence for a while, and slowly, he let himself relax against his friend, the two of them shifting to lay down tangled in each other. Bucky’s hands traced patterns on his back, and he traced the line of the arm where Bucky's prosthetic met skin. No more words were said that night because they didn’t have to be. Just two friends breathing together and realizing that they were okay, no matter their grief. 

And as Tony fell asleep, he could have sworn that just behind his eyelids, the image of a young woman with long blonde hair smiled at the scene of him and Bucky tangled up together. 

[A picture of a soft little boxer mix dressed in a festive sweater, curled up next to Steve, who's looking very very happy at the tiny little pup.]

The “Stevester” {✓} @Steve.Rogers

Just spending time with the best girl on the planet

3.4k retweets and comments   4.2k likes

“-I’m not saying you were an idiot,” Peggy snorted, accent laying thick on the word idiot, and the tone of it all made Steve’s heart jump from his chest. “But I am saying that you definitely got beat up more times than any of us could count. Honestly, Steve, the amount of trouble you got yourself into-”

“I got myself into a perfectly reasonable amount of trouble. Besides, if I remember correctly who was backing me up during all those fights?”

“Bucky, who was an even bigger idiot than you!”

“You backed me up in all those fights!”

Peggy took a sip of her coffee, red lips leaving a soft imprint on the cup. “I plead the fifth to your accusations.”

“I don’t think you can legally plead the fifth, Miss Union Jack.” Steve snickered as Peggy groaned at her college nickname. “And besides, you were the best fighter in both high school and college.”

“Wel, I certainly don’t fight now,” she said coyly, shaking her head. “I don’t want poor Harley to get any ideas. He already takes after me a lot, and I cannot imagine what that boy would do in a fight.”

“No way.” Shaking his head, Steve felt his heart tighten. “He’s got too much of Macy in him to ever be a fighter like you or I.”

It’d been a week since he learned about Macy’s passing, and he was still processing it. On one hand, it was something that he wasn’t fully sure how to come to grips with- but on the other, it had been so long since he’d actually been with Macy that it felt more like a wound that had already started healing. Instead of wallowing in his pain- like Bucky was doing- he found himself spending more time with Peggy and Harley. 

Harley still wasn’t the warmest to him, but they were slowly beginning to become closer in a way that made Steve feel like he was floating with joy. He was sure that if he had been more active in Macy’s life when she was pregnant with Harley that he would’ve been ‘Uncle Stevie’ instead of just ‘Steve Rogers,’ so bonding with Macy’s son felt like a way to both honor Macy and find his own place in the world. The plus side of Peggy and Harley being a package deal also made him extremely happy. Glowing even. 

This was their first time getting coffee together, though, and he felt like he’d come a tad bit overdressed. Peggy was in her usual casual clothes of jeans and a professional-looking blouse, with her hair still done in ring curls that he wanted to run his hands through and her makeup done up to perfection. He, however, had come in the nicest designer jeans he could find, a tight button up shirt, and a scarf, like a complete dweeb, because all he could focus on was impressing her. 

He hadn’t needed to worry about impressing her though, because Peggy’s soft smile and clever eyes were always on him. “You say that now, but you’ve never had to get him to take his medication.”

“And I can’t imagine it.” Steve chuckled, taking a sip of his own coffee. “I remember how Macy was when she got sick, and for some reason-” He threw a pointed look her way. “I feel like Harley’s even more stubborn.”

Peggy laughed, the sound bringing back butterflies to his gut, “Are you implying that I’m stubborn?”

“The stubbornest gal I know.” 

“I know many a man who would agree with you on that.” She smiled again, that coy soft smile that she had always reserved just for him. “Although not many who find it as impressive as you do.”

“I can't help it.” Steve had the strongest urge in the world to reach forward and brush a stray curl from out of her eyes. “Maybe it’s the fact that you’re still as stubborn and amazing at 36 as you were at 16, Peg. You literally- and don’t take this wrong- but you literally haven’t changed at all.”

“I think I’ve changed quite a lot!” Peggy protested, but the smile only grew wider. “I think one has to change when you get engaged, break it off, and adopt your deceased best friend’s son.”

Frowning at the reminder of the fact that at one point Peggy had been engaged, he leaned back, stretching. “I still can’t believe you got engaged. Like- we’re so young. Too young for marriage!”

“We’re thirty-six, Steve.” Peggy rolled her eyes. “Besides, Fred obviously wasn’t for me. It never ended up working out between us. Of course, there was the issue of the fact that I wanted to adopt Harley and keep him with me and he thought that Harley was a devil in medical bills clothing. And then there was the fact that after we got married he thought I’d want to settle down and have kids.”

Steve perked up curiously. “As much as I hate how he treated Harley, I didn’t realize you never wanted kids.”

“No, I do want kids,” she corrected him, rolling her eyes again and fixing him with a look that he was very accustomed too; the look that he’d gotten every day of high school. “Lots of kids in fact. I just never wanted biological children. It was adoption or nothing and Fred never really liked that. Which- completely fair, but still.”

“Oh.” Steve felt winded, heart-pounding faster because yeah- he wouldn’t lie- he always kind of thought of their future together and adopting a bunch of kids and wow, Peggy wanted a life like the one he’d always dreamed about having with her. “I get that- about biological children. I love kids, but I can’t imagine bringing one into this world when there’s already so many that need a good home.”

Peggy beamed at him, eyes twinkling. “Finally, a man who gets it!” 

“You and I have always operated under the same wavelength, Peg. We’re always on the same page. Makes sense that we have the same views and feelings about kids.”

“Yes, it does.” Her voice was unusually soft for Peggy, and he felt his heart race even more. “I don’t suppose you have a Fred in your life?”

He shook his head. “Peggy, I can count the number of people I’ve dated on one hand. No way have I ever had someone as serious as a fiance in my life.”

“Ex-fiance,” she reminded him with a huff. “And can you really only count the number of people you’ve dated on one hand?”

“Monica, Angie, and David,” he recited. “The only three people I’ve ever dated- and most of them only lasted like a month.”

“I don’t think it counts.”

“It totally counts!”

“Does not.”

“Does too!” 

“Honestly, Steve.” Peggy laughed again, the smile she reserved just for him making an appearance again. “You could have anyone, so why don’t you?” 

“I don’t know.” The words felt heavy on his tongue, and he met her eyes. “I guess I’ve just been waiting for the right partner.”

Peggy’s lips curled back into that coy little smile that she only ever seemed to show Steve, and he found himself tracing the way that they curve. The soft slope of her cheekbones, and the edges of her jaw, the ridge of her knows, the sharpness of her brow, the gentle pin curls framing her face. She was beautiful, and every part of him knew. 

It was them or nothing. It was him and Peggy or he’ll be alone for the rest of his days. And some small, creeping, tiny, part of him told him that Peggy knew it to. They both were painfully aware of the way that the only other person that understood the way they think, how they breathed, the shifts in their movements and the quiet way their words could carry double meanings was sitting across from them. Peggy had always understood all his nooks and crannies, and he’d always been able to see the parts of Peggy he wasn't sure she wanted to show anyone else. 

Peggy opened her mouth to speak, but faltered, eyes instead falling to Steve's own lips, tracing around his face like he’d done a second ago. He wondered what she was seeing. Who she was seeing. If the person before her was worthy of the warmth that she had in her eyes. Every part of him burned where she looked, and he wanted to reach out and touch her. The urge to run a hand through those pin curls grew, and Peggy leaned forward slightly. 

“Steve-”

“Excuse me,” a small girl piped up from next to their table, shocking them both out of the words that Peggy was about to say. “Um- I don’t mean to be rude- but- but- you’re Steve Rogers, right?”

Disappointment flooded his veins, but he smiled at the girl. “Yes! I am.”

“Okay, okay.” The girl beamed with wide eyes and a vibrant smile. “Can I get a photo with you? You’re like- you’re my hero.”

“Of course, kiddo.” Steve couldn’t shake the feeling of disappointment from his throat, but he wasn’t about to take that out on a poor fan who just wanted a photo with him. “Of course.”

The girl squealed, scrambling from her phone, and finally, her attention turned to Peggy. “I’m so sorry, ma’am, but would you mind taking it?”

“Oh-” Peggy blinked, shifting uncomfortably and it made a small pit grow in his stomach. “No, not at all. Not at all.” 

Taking the photo with the girl, he couldn’t help but not feel as…excited as the action might have made him once. He loved interacting with fans, and he loved being able to take photos with them and listen to their opinions and be around him but- 

This wasn’t a Comic Con, and this wasn’t a meet and greet. This was his- date wasn’t the right word, but he couldn’t think of any other- time with Peggy and he hadn’t really wanted that to be interrupted. He wanted to be with her, spend time with her, pay attention to her. Not be pulled into a photo session by any fan. Immediately though, he felt bad for thinking like that. 

The girl was a fan. She liked his work! She wanted to support him! He should be grateful. 

Still…looking at the tightness in Peggy’s smile as she handed the phone back to the girl made his gut fall in a way he didn’t really want. 

Shifting, Steve said quietly, “Peggy-”

“Does that happen often?” Her voice was soft and concerned.

“I-” He sagged. “Yeah, kinda.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, frowning. “It- forgive me for overstepping but.. I just… don’t like it that you can't go out in public without having to have photos taken of you. It seems very…invasive.”

The weight grew in his stomach, and Steve breathed out quietly. “Yeah, it is. I guess- I don’t- it's never been a problem before but now that-”

When he didn’t continue, Peggy prodded a little further. “Now that?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head, quietly contemplating his next few words. “I just- I’m sorry she interrupted our conversation is all.”

“I am too,” Peggy murmured, “I am too.”

[An image of Peter Parker, laying on the floor of some sort of movie set, clearly laughing and having somewhat of a good time.] 

Tony Stark {✓} @youknowwhoiam

He’s been working hard on this movie, clearly!

1.5k retweets and comments    45k likes

“-Okay, okay, okay.” Harley grinned into his phone, splayed out on his bed. “Truth or truth, dirty edition. You or me first?”

“Me.” Peter’s laugh rang clear- if a little staticky- over the phone, and Harley fought down the joy that bubbled up in his chest. “Is it true that you have a crush on Ned?”

Laughing, Harley sat up. “Absolutely. I’m not joking when I say I think he’s like majorly hot- but I do think now that I actually interact with him and know him that I would never pursue said crush. He’s too much like…hmm…”

“Brother material?” Peter provided. “Baby brother material? Twin vibes? Fun cousin you see at Christmas? Family. Family vibes.”

“No, because he’s still hot and I wouldn’t call any of those things hot.” Harley leaned against his bed frame, fiddling with the edit he had been in the process of making before the call had started. “No, it's just different vibes than the type of guys I’m attracted to, you know? Plus, I love Betty and Ned, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to be the homewrecker that breaks them up. It helps that Betty’s like really cool too- I think if she wasn’t the crush would still be in full effect.”

Peter hummed on the other end of the line, and when he closed his eyes he could almost picture Peter’s soft curls and gentle grin. “So what type of guys are you attracted to then?”

“Hey!” Protesting gently, he dodged the question entirely. “I think it’s my turn to ask you a question, you dweeb. Don’t try to get out of it now!”

“I wasn’t! I wasn’t!” His friend was laughing again. “I was simply asking a follow-up, but okay, if you insist that we follow the rules of the game then go ahead- ask me anything?”

“Anything?”

“Anything at all.”

“Who’s the hottest actress or actor you’ve ever worked with?”

“Gross!” Peter faked a gag noise, and Harley could hear the sound of his head shaking. “You can't ask me that! They’re all my colleagues!”

Harley laughed at his disgust, and let out a sing-songy voice, “You’re avoiding the question!” 

“I- You-” Peter huffed. “Fine, if you must know, I worked on an indie project a few years back when I was like fourteen with Anne Shirley- the redhead from that period drama piece you like so much- and I had. The biggest. Crush on her.”

“Anne Shirley-” Something strange twinged in his gut, but he forced it down to laugh more at his friend’s dorkiness. “You’re such a dweeb, and I didn’t know you were into gingers.” 

“Hey there is nothing wrong with gingers, Harls,” Peter half-laughed, half-sighed. “I like blondes better, but she was just so pretty and her eyes were so blue they were violet-” 

A thrill ran up his spine at the new information, but Harley ignored that too. “Violet eyes- you’re such a dweeb.” 

“So you’ve said! So you’ve said and so has Harry and Ned, and they didn’t start calling me that until they met you!”

“Well duh.” He was sure Peter could hear his smile in his voice, “I’m like, the coolest person you’ve ever met, dude. Like you three are absolute dorks and bow to my superior wisdom and knowledge because I’m cool and wise and cool.”

Peter let out a snort. “You run a fandom page on Twitter! You ship IronWizard! You’re a Harry Potter stan! You’re so the opposite of cool Harley, I don’t even know where to start with you.”

“Hey! You think I’m cool.” Harley hesitated. “Right?”

“Duh,” Peter said instantly, tone shifting from joking to soft so fast that Harley was wondering how he didn’t have whiplash. “You may be a really big fandom nerd, but I do think you’re right about being the coolest person I’ve ever met. No one else is like you in the world, Harls. I don’t think anyone else as smart or as kind as you exists.”

Harley was so glad that they weren’t currently on FaceTime. He didn’t want to have to deal with Peter seeing the way the soft praises made his face flush and he definitely didn’t want Peter to see the way that he had to take a few deep breaths in order to calm his suddenly upticked heart beat. It was just- he didn’t have a crush on Peter. Peter was just…good. And it was nice being his friend. Harley loved being his friend so much that every time he thought of what his life would be without Peter, he got…tired. 

But then Peter would say things like that and make Harley’s gut tug and his heart pound and dammit, he literally couldn’t handle this, his heart would give out if Peter kept being so cute and positive and good and-

Instead of voicing any of that, he murmured back to his friend, “You exist. You exist and you’re- you’re all those things and more, Pete. You’re like- I know I tease  you about being a dorky little dweeb way too often, but you really are probably one of just the bestest people I’ve ever met. You really just- you really just- I don’t even know how to describe you, that's how amazing you are. And you- I’m really glad I met you, you know?”

“I’m glad I met you too.” The tenderness in Peter’s voice made him feel soft and mushy. “You might not notice it harls, but I- I don’t really have a lot of friends. I have Harry and Ned and Betty- and- and kinda Harry’s crush Flash, and Flash’s co-worker Michelle- but like…I’ve never had a friendship like this before.”

Instead of voicing that he had never had a friend as perfect as Peter, he whispered out, “What do you mean?”

“I just like-” Peter’s voice grew even gentler. “I’m not used to just having a person around who just gets me. I love my friends- they’re all amazing- but they don’t get me like you do. It’s like… if I’m Han Solo, Ned and Harry are R2 and C-3PO, and you’re Luke. Like- like we just click on a different level than the others, I think. Like- I don't know how to phrase it at all, and I’m probably coming off as a total dweeb-”

“-You’re not.” Harley cleared his throat. “Coming off as a dweeb that is. I get what you mean. I understand what you mean. I- I understand. I like- Peter, I’ve never had a real friend before you, I think. Like, sure, I’ve had some pretty good online friends, but like you said- they don’t get me like you do. And you brought this just- this- this- aliveness...to my life, and you introduced me to your friends and now they’re my friends too and just- You’re my best friend, Peter.”

Peter’s breath hitched and Harley felt like his world was crumbling to his feet. He’d never had a guy best friend before- most of his internet friends were girls and he didn’t have that many in real life friends, or any at all, before Peter- and maybe saying that you’re someone’s best friends in the tone of voice- stupid, stupid and loving, and adoring, and full of admiration- that he’d said it in wasn’t okay. Maybe he’d crossed a boundary he hadn’t even known was there. Maybe he messed everything up- 

And then Peter breathed out, a soft, trembling breath, and whispered, “You’re my best friend too Harley. You- You’re just- You’re everything, and I care about you so so much.” 

“Oh.” Harley laughed, trying to blink back the overwhelmed tears that were now blurring his vision. “Yeah. Yeah. Me too, Peter. Me too. You- I care about you too. I’m really really happy we’re best friends.”

“I genuinely think that you’re gonna be my best friend forever,” Peter whispered, like he was telling a very precious secret. “Because I get you and you get me and what else is there?”

Harley grinned. “Ned and Harry are about to be offended.”

“Fuck Ned and Harry,” Peter replied instantly, but his tone was fond. “They don’t ignore the fact that I call myself Han Solo, or listen to me ramble about the tiniest details of photography or- or- anything like that. Don’t get me wrong, they’re fantastic friends, and I’d definitely say that they’re also my best friends- but you- you- you’re Harley Fucking Keener.”

“I am in fact Harley Fucking Keener.” The laugh bubbled up from him the way that it usually did with Peter- something unstoppable and warm and loving. “And you’re Peter Fucking Parker-Stark. You’re- god, dude, you say I’m a good friend- you’re the best friend. Like the bestest friend. Like an amazing perfect wonderful good friend, who I’m nothing like because I was gonna call you out for calling yourself Han Solo, you dweeb, but then we got sappy and now I’m sappy and we’re both sappy and man, we should get less sappy.” 

“I like being sappy with you,” Peter whispered, and Harley’s cheeks felt warm again. He liked being sappy with Peter too. “You’re my favorite person to be sappy with.”

“I thought Ned was.”

“Nah.” The tenderness in Peter’s voice was back. “Ned- Ned’s great to be sappy with. I love being sappy and cuddling with Ned. But I- I really like being sappy and being with you too. Like- I dunno. It's just different.”

“Good different?”

“Good different.”

Harley forced down the butterflies in his stomach, and instead whispered, “You know what I can't stop thinking about?”

“What?” Peter whispered back.

“The way you think you’re cool enough to be Han Solo,” Harley joked, covering up the real thing he was thinking about; the way that when he’d been on the verge of a panic attack, Peter had pulled him back to reality. The way he’d been so free and open with his touch and his care and the way that it had only solidified Harley’s friendship with him. The way Peter cared. “Because you’re not. You’re a dweeb.”

Peter let out a loud belly laugh, “Oh I’m a dweeb? You’re the dweeb! You started a game and we haven’t been playing it for the last twenty minutes!”

“Alright alright.” Grinning, he sank back into familiar territory. “So, Peter- very very very important question here. Truth or truth?”

The soft moment had passed, but their friendship of jokes and laughter and good things definitely was there to stay. 

[A photo of Harry Osborn and friends- with a blonde boy no one’s seen anywhere before in the back, all holding a magazine with Steve in swim shorts, declaring him once again, the Sexiest Man Alive.] 

Ozzie Boy @HarryOsbornOfficial 

one day,,, one day,,, i will take the crown from steve’s head and will be crowned sexiest man alive. 

45k retweets and comments    52.3k likes

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The “Stevester” {✓} @Steve.Rogers

Harrison Seung Osborn, I will kill you, young man.

43.2k retweets and comments   50k likes

Bucky tossed down a magazine on the coffee table, rolled his eyes, and fixed Steve with more sarcasm than he was used to. “Congrats punk, you’re officially sexier than me.”

“I’ve been sexier than you.” The response was automatic but he raised his brow anyway, picking up the magazine. “God- what the hell is this photo? Where the hell did they get it? I didn’t pose for that shit.”

“Must’ve been someone trailing you.” Bucky shrugged, plopping himself down on the couch, sighing. “We really gotta invest in some actual security, Stevie. You get paparazzi pic’ed for every little thing.”

“Not every little thing.” Steve was still frowning at the cover. “Just most little things.”

Bucky shook his head. “Yeah, yeah.”

Opting to stay silent, Steve took a moment to look at the cover of People magazine in more detail. It wasn’t actually a paparazzi pic, he realized, but a screencap from a movie he’d been in where he was a lifeguard. He only recognized it because of the definition in his muscles and the way that- while he was sure no one else could tell- he was almost definitely dehydrated in the photograph. The entire vibe of the cover made his skin crawl in a way he didn’t really recognize. 

He wasn’t used to things making his skin crawl like that. 

Especially not overly sexualized magazines; but here he was, sitting on his living room couch, feeling gross at the photo and the way his own body looked in. It wasn’t that he was ugly or that it was even a bad photo, it was that…well…he looked like he could be a lifeguard from a porno, and they had cleary touched up the photo to make his ass a little better, and his arms a little bulgier, and it queesed his stomach to see himself edited and propped up like a beautiful little sex toy. 

The bold headline of “Reader’s in! Steve Roger’s Sexiest Man AGAIN!” was jarring to the eye, and he couldn't seem to draw himself from the cover and the way that he was looking in the photo. It just- it was gross. The whole thing was gross. 

“Steve,” Bucky’s voice was quiet, and he jerked out of his head to meet his brother’s eyes. “What’s going through your head?”

The world felt like it was swaying under him. “I’m not really sure yet, Buck. Just- God, just- a lot?”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I-” Steve swallowed, “I got chosen for Sexiest Man Alive again.”

Bucky nodded slowly. “Yes, yes you did.”

“I don’t think-” Hesitating, he glanced at the coffee table. “I don’t think I really wanted to be. And even if I wasn’t uncomfortable with how- how being called that makes me feel right now, I don’t think I’d want to- well- I don’t think I’d want that photo up there. On shelves. I don’t know-”

“Steve.” Bucky was a little firmer, eyes extremely worried, and it was times like this he remembered that Bucky was more a big brother than he was, and while they were the same age, that trait didn’t fade just because of that. “Breath. You’re not breathing, and I need you to. Okay?”

Steve took a breath. “Okay. Breathing.”

“Alright.” His brother placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “Now tell me where this is coming from?”

“I just-” Running a hand over his face, Steve fought down an exhausted sigh. “I keep thinking about Peggy and how when I’m with her, she doesn’t expect me to be this. I just- don’t you ever get tired of how people look at us? At me? Like- god, our female co-stars have it so much worse- but I’m exhausted at how they treat me sometimes. And I know it's supposed to be a compliment- like- yeah, Sexiest Man Alive or whatever, but it doesn’t feel good anymore. It feels like everything’s happening around me and it makes my skin crawl- and- the worst part is, I’m like, ninety-eight percent sure that I’ve felt like this for years and years and years and just didn’t realize it until she brought me down back to myself.”

Bucky stayed quiet for a minute, then murmured out quietly, “I’m sorry they do this to you. You don’t deserve to be sexualized every minute of every day. And I’m really glad you have Peggy back to help you now.”

“I just- It’s just- Its not-” Steve stood up, shaking his head. “I’m going to lie down. Would you mind calling Tony and telling him I don’t feel good and that game night’s canceled?”

“Stevie-”

“Please, Buck?”

“Okay.” 

Steve stumbled his way up the stairs, just thinking. There was a part of him that felt sick for being so ungrateful with his fans and his fame and his fortune. This was a blessing. He wasn’t the poor, sickly, loser kid he was back in Brooklyn. He was better now. 

But he didn’t feel better. He felt wrong in his skin in a way that he knew was purely the sexualization that was always around him. He felt himself cringing into his own body because he couldn't do this. He couldn’t. 

For a brief moment, his hand fell to his phone- fully intent on calling the one person who brought him back to earth and reminded him he was a person- but he paused. Steve hadn’t touched his art set in years- since his second or third movie, but right now, he felt that familiar urge, the sensation in his chest, building in his lungs, craving some form of release. 

Quietly, he set down at his desk, and began to draw. 

When he was done, he would call it a self portrait. It was still that skinny kid from Brooklyn.

Chapter Text

Ozzie Boy {✓} @HarryOsbornOfficial 

just overheard a fan at a meet up say that they wish @youknowwhoiam was their dad, and you know what,,,,,,,, you know,,,, BIG MOOD

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Peter Stark {✓} @P.Stark

@HarryOsbornOfficial you are already one of his sons, come on man.

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Ned-ward Leeds {✓} @NL.Leeds

You, me and Harry are all his sons,,, what does that make @hpotato

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Can’t, I’m allergic  @hpotato 

That makes me the son in law as I seduce you, Peter, AND Harry and steal y’alls hearts :relieved emoji: :relieved emoji: :relieved emoji:

16.7k retweets and comments  16k likes

“Hey, Pete.” Poking his head into his son's room, Tony raised a brow at the frustrated scowl on Peter’s face. “Mind if I come in?”

Peter sighed, running a hand over his face, “Sure. Yeah. Sure.”

“Uh…you okay bud?”

“Just-” Peter sat up. “What does it mean if a boy doesn’t text you back for an hour?”

“That he might be busy?” Slipping in further, he leaned on Peter’s desk. “You know Harley has a life outside of you.”

“I never said it was-” At Tony’s look, his son shut up, running a hand over his face again. “I know that. I know that. But- I don’t know.”

“Your crush gets more pathetic by the day.” Hesitantly, Tony cleared his throat, crossing his arms and getting to the reason that had made him come to his son's room in the first place, “Speaking of crushes…did you ask Steve and Bucky for advice on how to ask Harley out?”

Peter tensed, jaw going set, and looking away from him. “They weren’t supposed to tell you that. I didn’t want them to tell anyone.”

“Yeah, well, they did.” Tony swallowed down the pang of hurt that came with realizing his son hadn’t come to him with something this important. “You know you can talk to me about this kinda stuff, right? I know I tease you a lot, but I don’t want you to think that you can’t talk to me, Peter. I love you. You’re my son. I want to be the first person you come to when you need advice.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” Peter snarked, tensing even more. “Dad, when was the last time you even had a relationship?”

Hurt panged in Tony’s chest again but he didn’t let it show on his face. “Peter-”

“No seriously, dad,” Peter continued, jaw set and angry, and for a moment all Tony could see was Richard and Mary and the fire all three of them possessed constantly. “I love you, but you’re like- you haven’t dated anyone since I was born, and you don’t plan to, and that's why I didn’t come to you! I want a relationship and I want it to work and you-”

“-Gave up relationships to raise you.” The hurt wasn’t in his voice, just the anger at his son's words, but in his chest, all he could feel was hurt bubbling through him in a way he wasn’t used to anymore. “Peter- I chose to not date again because you’re more important than dating. You’re more important than anything- and I- I may not have a relationship now, but I wanted to be there for that type of conversation- and it’s totally inappropriate of you to ask your co-workers to give you that sort of advice!”

“Don’t blame your choice of not dating on you having me.” Peter took a breath and looked down, guilt clearly creeping in at his words. “I know you mean well, but you isolating yourself and ignoring your romantic interest in people just because you have a son is- well, it's shitty. And- co-workers? Sorry, but what world are you living in? Steve and Bucky have been part of this family since you met them!”

“But they’re not your dad, Peter!”

“You want Bucky to be!” His son stood up and let out a frustrated yell. “You talk all this big game about how you’re a single dad and you’re so happy to be alone because you got to raise me and all this bullshit that you don’t really mean when you have someone you love right there! And he loves you too! And you brush off your feelings and pretend they don’t matter! How do you think that makes me feel, Dad?!”

“Peter-”

“You give up so much fucking happiness for me, and its not fair,” Peter seethed, pacing now, and the hurt in Tony’s chest grew. “You like to act and pretend like I’m the center of your whole world but all that makes me feel is like I’m terrified for when I finally leave this house for college because you’re gonna be all on your own because you push and you shove and you force people away from you and it’s not fair! You’re in love with Bucky, dad! You’re in love with him! Why do you pretend not to be, because you know it, I know it, Steve knows it- everyone knows it! But you won’t make a move because you have me!” 

“I won’t make a move because I am old, and tired, and angry, and broken in more ways than I have ever shared with the son I love and want to protect from that shit.” The words rose up in his chest, and he fought back the anger that Peter had gotten from him so that it wouldn’t show. “Maybe it doesn’t make sense to you, Peter- it doesn’t have to make sense to you- but I have my own reasons outside of you to do things, and that includes why I’m not confessing my love to Bucky. And even more- how do you think it makes me feel that the fact you don’t think you’ve been the center of my world since you were born, and that when you do leave this house, I’ll be okay because I know you’ll be out there in the real world doing your best! Don’t just assume I’m not gonna be okay-”

“Oh, as if! As if you’re gonna be okay!”

“You’re right, I’m not at first, but Peter-” Tony took a deep breath, refusing to yell at his son. “Look. Look. Listen- I- All I’ve ever wanted since the day you were born was for you to grow up one day, and become a man, and make me proud and you’ve always succeeded in doing that. That’s why I’ll be okay. And-” He shook his head, finally sitting down on the desk, trying to breathe. “I’m sorry. If I made you feel like I wouldn’t be okay without you here, kiddo-”

“-No, dad.” His son mirrored him, energy draining out, and regret seeping back in. “I didn’t mean that.” 

He shifted, trying to remember the rules of parenting in all those books he had read and the way that Mary was able to calm down fights between Richie and Ben, how Peter was so much like all of them. “It’s okay if you did. You’re a kid, and I don’t ever want to add to the pressures you’re under every day by making you feel like I’m gonna spiral back to where I was before I had you when you eventually grow up. Peter- I may be a little lonely in the romance department, but I’ll never ever go back to how things were back then. I won’t ever do that to you and I’m really sorry if me not being open to other people outside our little niche group made you feel like that would happen.”

“No, dad I- I knew that wouldn’t happen.” Peter sat down on the bed. “I was just- already on edge because of Harls not texting back right away like he usually does, and then- I just- dad, I just don’t get it with you.”

“What don’t you get?”

“Why do you keep yourself unhappy, when you could be so happy if you just let Bucky in.” Peter fiddled with his hands, a nervous tick he’d gotten from Tony, and the hurt that had made its way into his chest before was slowly healing up. “I know you say I’m enough to keep you happy but- come on, dad, he’s- you look at him with so much love and I just- why don’t you do something for yourself for once? Why don’t you make yourself happy for once? What's wrong with pursuing a relationship with someone that makes you happy?”

“Kiddo-” Tony sucked in a breath. “Listen, buddy, there’s just- I love you. I love you more than anything in the world, and you are my favorite person to be around and interact with. But romantic love is so much scarier than the love you and I have, bambino. Romantic love is- it’s a bridge I’ve never ever been ready to face, and- and I’m not sure how to face it now.”

Pulling his knees up to his chest, Peter shrugged. “That’s why I didn’t come to you. You don’t know how to face it but- Harls is so- I really- I’m not willing to pass it up. And I- you don’t know how to face it but Steve is facing it now and Bucky has to face it every time he looks at you and-”

“We don’t know that about him.” The protest felt weak to his own ears. “We don’t know that at all, Pete. And I- I really really would love it if you came to me with this next time. I may not be ready to face my own love life and problems but, kiddo, you and I have always braved the world together and that doesn’t change just because you’re a snot headed eighteen year old now.”

“You’re not funny.” Peter laughed, then shook his head. “I just… I don’t know.”

“I know you don’t,” Tony said soothingly, moving off the desk to gently pull Peter into a soft hug. “But you don’t have to. We’ll figure it out together, because that’s how it's always been. And- and you’re right and it's okay for you to ask Steve and Bucky for help. They’re our family too- don’t give me that look. I’m not asking him out.”

“But you could ask him out,” his son whispered, hugging him back tightly, “You could ask him out and you’d be happy dad. And you’d have someone here so you’re not alone when I’m at college.”

“I’ll never be alone even if Bucky and I aren’t dating. I’ve got too many friends for that.”

Peter shook his head, and said quietly, “I know but…aren’t you tired of being alone, Papa?”

“I’m never alone, bambino,” Tony whispered back. “I promise you. I- I don’t know how I can make this better, Peter, but I promise you that I’m always gonna be okay. You growing up, becoming a person, going out into the real world- that's what I’ve always wanted. And I’m so so proud of you. I’m so so proud of who you’ve become. And I- I promise you, I’m okay.”

“I know but- I just- you could be happy.” 

“I am happy.”

“You could be happy with him.” Peter pulled back, and frowned up at him. “Why won’t you give him a chance, dad?”

Tony hesitated, and then sighed. “I’ll… I’ll tell you what, Pete. You ask Harley out- you get him to be your boyfriend- you fall in love completely and totally like Betty and Ned, and then I’m gonna consider dating. When I know that you’re happy with a man you love and care about, that is when I’ll branch back out into the dating scene. Only if you’re happy.”

“Yes, okay- deal- deal.” His son relaxed, and offered a grin, “You’re gonna have to start branching back out soon, I have an elaborate four week plan to woo Harley and make him fall in love with me like I’ve fallen in love with him.”

Groaning, he shook his head, moving back towards his son's door. “You’re a terrible heathen, you know that? You’re also like six, you can’t be in love yet.”

“Nope! Too late! You made the deal! I get a boyfriend you get a boyfriend! That’s how it works!”

“Maybe I won’t even ask Bucky out!”

“Yes you will! Yes you will! You’ll ask him out because me and Harley are literally soulmates! Ha! Tricked you into finding love and happiness! Ha ha!”

Closing the door, he fought back a grin. At least Peter was happy.

angel wings  @angxlgrace 

was no one gonna tell me that famous fanartist @hpotato actually knew peter stark or was i supposed to find out by the Boys (™) shit posting about him??

1.3 retweets and comments    2k likes

Harley let his hand card through Peter’s hair, nails gently dragging on the other boys scalp, not paying attention to much. It was a fairly normal hang out session for them, with Peter asking what movie he wanted to watch and them going back and forth between which Star Wars movie was actually acceptable. Finally, they settled on no Star Wars movie, instead Raiders of the Lost Ark- since they both agreed that Harrison Ford was just too handsome to pass up. Shortly after the movie had started, Peter had laid down, his head in Harley’s lap, hand resting gently on his thigh. 

He tried not to read too much into it. 

Peter sighed softly, pressing his face more into Harley’s leg, hand tightening its grip on his thigh. “This is nice.”

“Of course it's nice,” Harley hummed, tugging gently on a piece of hair in his hands, making Peter blink up at him. “You have literally the best pillow in this entire world, Pete.”

“Shut up, dork.” His friend shifted, switching to lay on his back, looking up at him for real instead of just a slow glance from the corner of his eye. “We get it- your thighs are soft and pillowy, and I’m very much in love with using them as a pillow.”

Fighting down a blush, Harley laughed, keeping his hand tangled in the other boy’s hair. “Well, I’m glad someone likes them.”

“A lot of people would like them if you showed them off more.” Peter frowned, closing his eyes and leaning into Harley’s hands. “And then what will I do? You’ll be off with some other boy and my pillow will be gone.”

“Nice to know I’m just a pillow to you.” The urge to trace along Peter’s jaw suddenly made an appearance, bursting its way to the top, and he fought to keep the hand not in Peter’s hair resting on the couch. “Besides, I don’t think you’ll have to worry about some boy sweeping me off my feet.”

“Hmm,” Peter sighed, hand shifting off his thigh to brush its way around Harely’s waist, Peter moving to press his face into Harley’s stomach. “I think I do. You’re-” Peter flushed. “You’re handsome, and charming, and funny. Someone’ll steal you from me one day.”

His heart jumped, “Nah, I don’t think so. I think you have to say all that because you’re my friend and you care about me.”

“Right, friend.” Peter pressed closer, and Harley tucked a strand of curls behind his ear. “Don’t you think someone will ask you out one day, though? Like- when you picture it, what do you picture? If you don’t mind me asking-”

“-I don’t,” The words tumbled out of him, and he was sure he was bright red. “Mind you asking. I just- I can't imagine anyone asking me out.” 

Peter pulled back, and Harley’s hands fell out of his hair. “What do you mean by that?”

“I just-” Harley flushed and looked away, then motioned to himself. “Who wants a boyfriend who's gonna be in and out of hospital for the rest of his life, Peter?”

“I would-” Peter went bright red. “Well, like- you know what I mean right? I would one hundred percent date you if we both had feelings for each other and it was a consensual thing and you know what, shutting up now- but the point stands! You’re more than just your heart, and any decent guy will see that.”

The image of dating Peter flicked across his mind- not for the first time since the beginning of their friendship. The idea of going on long walks and movie dates and maybe getting to kiss Peter’s cute little dimple made his heart jump in a way that he knew wasn’t dangerous. It was thrilling. The idea of dating his best friend- opening himself up to Peter, and pursuing something that would make them both happy- the idea of soft kisses, and more cuddles, and going to movie premieres with him- his chest was fuzzy with want. 

Shaking those thoughts out of his head- because as much as it seemed like Peter was flirting with him and making a move, he was not because no way did Peter Stark like him like that- he laughed quietly. “Again, dude, you’re like legally required to say that as my best friend.”

“No way, I would say this even if we were just strangers!” Peter insisted, crossing his arms across his chest, “Harley- you’re like, the best guy anyone could have. Anyone who can’t see past that is an idiot. Besides, you haven’t been back in the hospital since we met and it's been a good few months now, so if you were gonna get a boyfriend I think this would be the best time to do it.”

He shook his head, “You’re ridiculous- what about you? Don’t you want a boyfriend- or a girlfriend?”

“Yes, I do.” Peter looked away from him. “Kinda. It's complicated.”

“How so?” He was beating down the jealousy that threatened to overwhelm him with a stick, reminding himself that he was just Peter’s friend, he was just Peter’s friend, he was just Peter’s friend. “I mean- come on man. You’re like- You could get anyone you wanted.”

“I don’t think that at all.”

“I do.”

Peter looked like he wanted to say something, but just ducked his head. “Because I’ve never ever been in a relationship, and this gu- this person hasn’t either, and I really really wanna make any move I make on hi- them, really special.”

He was so so stupid- why had Harley ever thought that Peter would ever, ever, ever, want him? All those times he had day dreamed about what it could be like ran through his head, but instead of him with Peter, it was some faceless boy that Peter actually loved and wanted. Clearing his throat, trying to keep his voice, even he shrugged. “So make it special. You’re you. Anything you do would be amazing.” 

“But will he think that? Or will he think I’m a loser who should stay in his lane?”

“Peter.” His voice was tighter than he meant to make it. “If he thinks you're a loser then he’s an idiot who doesn’t see what he has right in front of him.”

“He sees more than I think he realizes.” Peter was staring at him, eyes soft. “Wanna talk about why your voice is so tight?” 

“I just- don’t like the idea of you being with some guy that doesn’t value you at all, Pete. You’re like- one of the nicest people on the planet and if you’re guy can’t see that-”

“He sees that,” Peter said soothingly, eyes still trained on his face. “He sees that because he’s funny, and sweet, and genuine, and he thinks people don’t notice him, but I do. He doesn’t think very highly of himself and puts down all these small things I like about him, and he pretends like he’s tougher than he is because he’s gentle and soft, and lets me cuddle into him, and when I ask he lets me hold him, and he trusts me enough to come to me on his bad days and I care about him so so much.” 

“And it's not just those things.” Harley’s heart was racing, and Peter shifted closer to him. “It's the way that he can make me laugh, and how he can calm me down from panic attacks, and how we argue and he treats me like a real person and not some untouchable celebrity. It’s how easy teasing comes to each of us, and how we make it some sort of like- language, really, because no one else gets it when he and i get into it. Like- trust me, he sees that I’m good. What gets me is that he doesn’t see that he’s good. That’s why I say it's complicated, because I want to show him all of that when I ask him out. I want it to be like- like- I want him to know, you know?”

Harley’s breath caught in his throat, because he could be wrong but he was like eighty percent sure that Peter was talking about him, “Yeah. I do.” 

“Good,” Peter breathed, “Good. I’m glad you know.”

His friend hesitated, and then Peter opened his arms, and Harley took the invitation, wrapping himself close to Peter, pressing his face into Peter’s shoulder. The other boy moved to lay down, pulling Harley on top of him, and pressing him closer than Harley thought was possible. He thought- for a second- he thought that he could feel the way that Peter’s heart was as fast as his was at the moment. That steady rhythm, sped up from the rush of an almost not-quite confession. 

“I…” Harley licked his lips, closing his eyes, and breathing in time with the other boy. “I never answered your question, about what I picture when I picture someone asking me out.”

Peter’s breath caught, and his hands slipped down where his shirt had rode up to trace the patch of skin there. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you.. Do you want to answer it now?”

He looked up at Peter, offering a quiet smile. “If it was me that was being asked out, I think all I would want would be some roses. Red or pink, but roses, and maybe like- maybe they ask me on a real date over like… a movie and dinner hang out. I’d want… I’d want to be pretty much already dating them. So that when dates became real it would feel… it would feel normal and natural and already part of the dynamic. You know?”

“I do know,” Peter hummed, thumb tracing patterns on his skin. “I think that’s how I’d want it too. It’d be less of like a- an abrupt change and more something that we both want.”

“Exactly,” Harley breathed, “That’s exactly it.”

Peter’s hands stayed on his waist, and he shifted his hands up, one cupping his friend’s- were they still friends? Were they in the process of shifting to boyfriends? Were they moving away from just two kids and into the comfort of two people who really really liked each other?- neck, and the other, playing with those soft curls again. Peter was still breathing him in, tangled together, just pressed together in a way that they both knew meant more. 

Harley wanted to laugh. He wanted to laugh and sing, because of course this is how they would get together. Of course them tangled up, talking about each other in soft code was how they realized they wanted to be together. And the quiet understanding they had reached- that they both wanted to explore this a little more before making an actual move, explore what this meant and what it meant to them and these feelings- made his heart leap out of his chest. This was- it was almost too much.  But it wasn’t too much, because it was Peter Stark who he was tangled up with, talking to in a way  that he wasn’t sure anyone else would understand. 

“What are you grinning about?” Peter was also grinning, the dimple on his left cheek making an appearance. “I can feel you grinning against my chest, Harls.”

“You’re a dweeb, you know that?” The joy was hard to keep out of his voice, and his only solace was that Peter’s voice was just as laced with the emotion. “You’re a total and absolute dweeb, of course I’m grinning about this?”

“About Raiders of the Lost Ark?” Peter teased, hands inching up his shirt more, as they entangled even closer. “Or about this?” 

“Now wouldn’t you like to know!” 

“I’d very much like to know!” 

“And here I was thinking you wouldn’t like to know,” Harley shifted slightly so he was looking at Peter. “After all, you have that boy you wanna ask out.”

Peter’s face fell. “Wait Harls- I thought- did we not just-”

“Oh my god, yes you dweeb.” Rolling his eyes, his grin became wider. “I was teasing you, obviously.”

“Oh- yeah- good because like-” Peter started awkwardly, blushing. “I just- no labels yet but-”

“I know, I know.”

“Okay, yeah. Yeah. Good. I’m glad you know.” 

He leaned up, gently placing a soft kiss on Peter’s forehead, “I’m glad I know too.”

They tangled back up in each other, both of them with big matching grins. No labels yet, Harley hummed, but they both knew that they wanted to get to a point where this was romance, if it wasn’t romance already.

Sage the Sage @chocomoruki 

,,, don't mind me,,, casually,,,, making an a/b/o au of iron man and captain america,,,,,

might fuck around and make real person fic,,,, with same plot,,,,

3 retweets and comments    5 likes

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Can’t, I’m allergic  @hpotato 

I’m terrified to  ask, Sage, because I don’t approve of real person fic, but who are you making real person fic of

28 retweets and comments   40 likes

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Sage the Sage @chocomoruki 

,,, ,,,,,,, ,,,, T-Tony Stark and Steven Rogers. 

30 retweets and comments   50 likes

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Can’t, I’m allergic  @hpotato 

SAGE NO 

56 retweets and comments   68 likes

Steve tapped on Tony’s ankle. “So, I don’t understand- are they dating or are they not?”

“Well,” Tony sighed, shifting his attention to look at Steve fully from the novel he had been reading. “Harley and him came to the conclusion that they wanted to transition into dating instead of just jumping into it. So no label, and technically, they’re not dating, but the both confessed, so they’re kinda dating.”

“Kids these days.” Steve huffed, hands still tapping at Tony’s leg, mind fully on Peggy. “Can’t they just make things easier on themselves and ask each other out?”

“Speak for yourself, Steve, I’m just happy they’ve decided slow is the way to go.” Tony fixed him with a look. “That whole party incident had me scared he’d end up like me, but Harley keeps him on the straight and narrow, I think, and that’s really good. Well- not that Peter isn’t always on the straight and narrow. Just that Harley’s wants line up with Peter’s and they’re taking things painstakingly and tooth-achingly slow. They still won’t cuddle in front of me, but they’ve worked up to holding hands.” 

“Oh! Holding hands! I’m scandalized.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tony poked him. “Shut up. Besides, they’re not the only two love birds taking things slow. How’s Miss Carter?”

“You’re not funny.” Steve felt his face go hot. “You’re really not funny. Besides- we’re not- no confirmation that she even likes me like that, Tony. For all we know, she could think I’m just a lame dweeb she’s pitying so that she doesn’t have to go back to me moping around her like back in our high school days. It's not- you’re not funny.”

“I’m not funny?” Tony’s brows were raised, and he motioned to Steve with his book. “Steve! That woman looks at you like you’re all the stars in her sky! You literally have all the chance in the world yet you’re here, saying that I’m not funny and there's no real confirmation that she likes you. Bullshit!”

“Not bullshit!”

“Total bullshit!” 

Steve shook his head. “God, she doesn’t like me! We're just rebuilding our friendship, and yes, technically I think we go on coffee dates and i do bring her lunch at work- but I’m usually volunteering when I do that! It’s more of a convenience thing than a crush thing, really!”

“God.” Tony huffed, pointing more fervently at Steve with his book. “Everybody around me has become an idiot. You realize that right? You’re a love sick dweeb with nothing else going on in your life than to hopelessly pine after a girl who’s in love with you too. I gotta deal with it from Pete, and now I gotta deal with it from you.”

“I think you’ve been spending too much time around Harley,” Steve told him matter-of-factly, instead of acknowledging the lovesick comments. “He’s the only one I’ve ever heard use the word dweeb, and now everyone’s using it. That kid is weaseling his way into our lives, Tones. Not that that's a bad thing.”

“You’re a hypocrite! You literally just said dweeb! You also love the kid!”

“Uh, yeah, Obviously.” Steve gave his friend a look. “I said it wasn’t a bad thing!”

“Well, you’re right, he’s not a bad thing,” Tony continued on that thought, finally putting the book down from where he’s been pointing it accusingly at Steve, “I think he’s one of the best things to ever happen to this family- you, Peter, Barnes. Peter for- obvious reasons. You and Barnes for- also obvious reasons but maybe less so.”

Steve felt his ears tip red. “I think we’re competing for who can be more of a dad to him, but it's made hard by the fact that he doesn’t know how he feels about us. It's a little awkward. He pretends not to like us, but he laughs at my jokes, and asks Buck about Macy, so I think that's progress.”

“Wait wait wait,” Holding up a hand, Tony glared, “No one told me there was a dad off competition going on! I could beat all your asses- and while I couldn’t be Harley’s new dad because that would be disgusting for him and Peter, I am clearly the superior dad figure in everyone's life!”

“No way! No!” Steve pouted dramatically. “You’ve got Peter! And Harry said he wanted you to be his dad too! Let me have this one! Ths one's mine! If I marry Peggy, he’ll be my godson anyway and I will assume the dad figure position in his life!”

Tony flung the book back up, forcibly pointing at him. “Ah-ha! You admit it! You admit it! You want to marry Peggy because you’re a gross little man completely in love with her and you want to be a part of her life! You want her! She wants you! Go get married!”

“A marriage requires two people’s consent, Tony and she doesn’t want me like that!”

“You need to have more confidence,” his friend lectured, hitting him in the chest with the novel. “She loves you! She looks forward to talking to you and always brightens up when you’re around and knows all of your favorite jokes! She likes you, Steve! Peggy Carter is one hundred percent in love with you, and you’re just prolonging the inevitable by pretending like you’re both not this close to snapping and tearing each other’s clothes off in her office at the hospital!”

Steve felt his face go bright red, because yeah it wasn’t like he hadn’t ever thought about it, but it was still wildly inappropriate. “Tony! That’s so- You’re so- Tony! That's disrespectful to both me and Peggy! She is a serious working woman, and she would never fuck me in her office!”

“You’re right.” Tony nodded. “No, she’d come to your trailer and fuck you there.” 

“Tony! For the last time, I don’t get pegged.” 

“You’re such a liar,” his friend relented, leaning back so they were once again positioned with Tony laying across the couch with his feet in Steve’s lap. “You get pegged and you’re a bottom.”

“Oh, says you.” 

“Says me, which makes it even more true.”

“When was the last time you even got laid, Tones?” 

His friend was silent. 

“That’s what I thought.”

Tony shook his head, then pointed at him again. “What I’m getting from this conversation is that we both need to get laid.”

“Clearly.” Faltering, he cleared his throat, and took one for the team- or at least, for Bucky. “Besides, I thought you said you didn’t want to date?”

“Yes, well,” Shifting, Tony crossed his arms. “It's not that I don’t want to date, Steve, it's that the guy I want to date is out of my league. But I have to start dating now. Peter’s made it pretty clear that he expects me to start ‘putting myself out there’ and ‘interacting with others’ and ‘opening myself up’, whatever the hell that means. Kid is nosy and demanding. Are most kids this involved in their parents love life?”

Steve poked him. “Your kid has always been a little schemer. For someone so Hufflepuff he sure has some Slytherin traits-”

“-he gets them from me-”

“-And there’s definitely been multiple times in my memory where he’s tried to set you up.” Steve hummed. “Remember when he was nine and you brought him to that premiere and he tried to get you and that one actress together by pushing you onto her but pretending he just tripped when he pushed you? I think he’d watched that cartoon- where the people kiss because of a bump-”

“Don’t remind me,” Tony groaned, “But my question still stands. Why is he so involved in my love life? He has his own to worry about!” 

“Maybe now that he has his own to worry about he wont worry about yours so much anymore?” The question got him a dry look. “Okay, Okay, I get it. Kid likes to be involved in every aspect of your life. But it’s not like he's making you ask someone out, just gently encouraging you to reach out to more people than your usual circle and maybe find someone you like.”

“I have someone I’m into, Steve, he just would never go for me.” 

Something clicked into place very quietly and Steve paused. “His name wouldn't happen to rhyme with Shmcucky Shmarmes, would it?”

“You-” Tony sat up, eyes narrowing. “No! It wouldn’t happen to be and whichever little brat told you about that needs to be grounded for eternity. But no, it is absolutely not Bucky Barnes.”

“Awful lot of denying for someone who doesn’t like him.” Teasing came natural, along with the rush of holy fuck , because Bucky’s stupid unreasonable crush was in fact requited. “Almost like a school girl denying her crush on the most popular boy in school.”

Tony blanched. “I am the most popular boy in school! I’m the cool one! Shut up!” 

“God, you’re so childish!”

“No, no, don’t twist this narrative on me,” Tony said childishly. “We are both childish here! If we weren’t currently being childish and stupid old men, we wouldn’t be sitting here bantering about our love lives like two teenage girls before prom- yet here we are, doing exactly that. We are both at fault here, Steve, not just me.”

“Agree to disagree.”

“Whatever, you loser.” Tony leaned back, taking up the position he had jerked out of when Steve had innocently asked who he liked, thumbing through pages of his book. “Now leave me alone, I’m reading.”

Shaking his head, Steve didn’t protest, in favor of just taking out his phone and letting the subject drop. He’d never betray Tony by telling Bucky about the other man's feelings but… well… maybe he’d meddle a bit. Only if it meant his brother and his best friend were happy. 

The "Buckster" {✓} @JamesBarnes

I’m require many a cookie. 

3.2k retweets and comments   4k likes

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Tony Stark {✓} @youknowwhoiam

I have no cookie for you but I do have chocolate cake 

2.1k retweets and comments    3k likes

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The "Buckster" {✓} @JamesBarnes

I will take it, see you on set.

2k retweets and comments   2.4k likes

Bucky gently put a hand on his shoulder, and Tony fought back a grin. “I didn’t think you were serious about the actual cake, Tones.”

“Of course I was serious, Barnes,” he chided, pretending to be offended on his cake’s behalf. “You think I would ever joke about my cake? This is Pepper’s German Chocolate and Fudge cake, Barnes, it’s not a joking matter.”

“And here I thought it was a joke because why the fuck would you have cake in your trailer on just an average day of filming.” Bucky offered him a grin, and Tony finally gave into his instincts and grinned back at him, as he cut off a slice for his friend. “Like- what was the occasion? Why did you do this?”

Tony laughed, handing him the slice, which Bucky gobbled down like a mad man. “Because Peter’s trying to learn how to bake because Harley likes baking and he wants to be able to do it with him, but you know my son-”

“I do know your son.” Bucky’s nose wrinkled, and Tony catalogued that detail as something to take note of because it was an adorable trait that he’d never actually noticed before. “And I know that this cake is definitely not baked by him. That kid can burn water on a stove, Tony, he’s not exactly capable of creating this masterpiece.” 

“Hey don’t insult my kid!” Teasing, he cut another slice- well two, one for himself, and the other for Bucky. “It doesn’t matter how terrible of a cook he is, he’s just- well- he’s challenged, in the kitchen. That’s not his fault at all! That’s- I don’t know whose fault it is, but his other parents also sucked at cooking, so I think it’s genetic.”

Bucky shook his head. “Kids got your genes, and as we’ve established you are an amazing excellent lovely cook who should bring me baked goods every single day for the rest of my life.”

“You’ll get fat.”

“So?”

“Fair enough.” The banter felt like a second language, and Tony grinned. “I do like my men on the thicker side.”

Bucky choked, and then grinned, before flexing his flesh arm. “Is this not thick enough for you, Tony? I’m offended!”

“That’s buff not thick,” Tony pointed out, ignoring how he felt like he was about to blush from the fact that Jesus Christ, those were some big bizongin biceps . “And as adorable as it is that you think that taking me to the gun show could woo me, I regret to inform you my tastes have matured a bit and now I also take personality into account.”

“You-” Bucky shook his head, offering him a blank look. “You used to not take personality into account?”

“I was a man whore!” Tony replied chipperly, offering an exaggerated wink. “I am a certified man whore. Well- was- I quite my whorish ways when I had Pete, but I don’t think that is cause to take away my certification as a man whore.”

Bucky let off a nerdy laugh, half-choked on chocolate cake, and it was a terrible terrible thing, because somehow it was probably the most charming thing that he’d ever seen. “No, I agree, I don’t think man whore certification gets taken away. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be considered a man whore for my pre-army escapades, and I was certainly deserving of the title.”

“Look at us.” Tony was blushing, he was sure, because Bucky was still laughing in that dorky way that made Tony’s heart race with just how Bucky it was. “A couple of man whores, feasting on chocolate cake, waiting for something to come into their life and assure them that they’re still man whores.”

The door to his trailer opened, and Steve popped his head in. “You’re both still man whores. Now come on, they’re about to film Peter’s part on set, Tony, and you don’t wanna miss it.”

The two of them burst into laughter, so contagious that even Steve was chuckling. Making his way out of his trailer, Bucky clapped him on the shoulder, and laughing, they made their way out of the trailer and towards the set. Tony tried desperately to ignore how the way that Bucky laughed made him feel fuzzy, and how his hand was slowly slipping towards his lower back, and how everything about this moment felt a little bit out of a dream- except it wasn’t. 

That was the most amazing part. It wasn’t a dream that Bucky and he had just hung out, teasing each other about their pasts and talking trash. They were becoming better friends than before, and that made Tony’s entire world spin. Maybe Pete was right- maybe this was something he wanted to do, and actually could do- maybe this was good. 

Instead of staying stuck on that thought, he just relaxed. He had time to figure it out- figure out what it meant that Bucky laughed like that, or that his hand was still on his back, and his heart was racing out of happiness- he had time. For now, though, he had to go watch his son attempt to do his own stunts like a total and complete idiot. 

Bucky’s hand never left the small of his back the entire time they were walking.

Chapter Text

Starks and Stars  @stenaliburtenli 

:thinking emoji: :thinking emoji: :thinking emoji: well well well where has @/hpotato gone? Seems he’s disappeared from social media after stealing the attention of our Peter. :thinking emoji: :thinking emoji: :thinking emoji:  Peter Stark fans, find out more for us please.

2.3k retweets and comments    4k likes

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[A very blurry image of a hospital room, where Harley Keener is laying in a hospital bed. No one can see his face, but it's clearly the same boy that's been appearing in Peter, Ned, and Harry’s photos and live streams.  Doctors are swarming him, but the photo is too blurry to make out why.]

Peter Stark Notice Me @P.StarkSuperFan

Ding dong,,,, the witch is dead,,,, 

5.3k retweets and comments   6k likes 

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Sage the Sage @chocomoruki

holy fuck this is so fucked up, what the fuck is WRONG with you?! 

2.3k retweets and comments   6k likes

When Harley was younger- back when he’d gotten first diagnosed- he’d always been confused when he woke up in a hospital bed. His mom would always be holding his hand, clutching it tightly, and occasionally whispering a prayer, and his aunt Peggy would be comforting them both softly. She was always good like that. As he got a little older, and waking up in a hospital bed became the norm for him, that confusion never went away. Instead, he could always tell when he was in a hospital bed because his mom or his aunt Peg would be clutching at his hand hard enough to break it. 

Waking up this time was absolutely no different. 

He woke up like he always did, slightly groggy, his throat dry. The good thing was that he clearly hadn’t been out for more than a week because he didn’t have a breathing tube down his throat this time. The bad thing was that he had a killer headache that made him wince at even the thought of opening his eyes. He knew he needed to, though. It never ever got better unless he voiced that he was awake and alive and could he please get some water. From there, he could work out what had happened and what he had to look forward to. 

Opening his eyes, Harley winced at the lights, and realized that those lights weren’t the ceiling lights, but rather the window of his unit. He struggled to breathe for a second as he got his barings, shifting his head to the side without Peggy, only to find that he was wrong. 

Next to the window, Peggy, Steve, and Bucky all rested against each other, eyes closed, slumped in that order. Peggy was leaning on Steve and for- well not the first time, but one of the rare times- in Harley’s life, she looked less than perfect. Her hair was frizzed and uncurled, instead coming down in her natural waves that looked tangled and unbrushed. Tear tracks still stained her cheeks, and she was just wearing a sweatshirt- he would’ve done a double take if he thought his head could handle it, because he was ninety eight percent sure it was Steve’s sweatshirt- and sweatpants. Steve was leaning on her and looked just about the same. Bucky was slumped onto Steve, bags under his eyes and a five o’clock shadow beginning to sprout. 

Huh. If Peggy was over there, then the person holding his hand must be… 

Peter had pressed himself as physically close to the bed as possible, clutching at his hand like it was a life line. Harley breathed out, smiling quietly. Of course his- his- his not quite boyfriend, not quite friend, was here. Of course he was the one that was holding his hand and sleeping with his head on Harley’s bed. It was honestly adorable, too adorable for Harley’s brain to handle right now. He wanted to touch those curls and play with them, but he still didn’t have as much energy as he did when he was fully awake and alive, not still vaguely in pain in his head and heart aching.

Squeezing Peter’s hand once, he shifted, trying with all his effort to get up. His muscles felt so so weak though, and he wasn’t sure if he knew how to. Instead, he resigned himself to studying the way Peter’s eyelash’s cast shadows on his cheek bone and the gentle curve of his upper lip. 

“You’re awake,” Tony said gently, and it took some effort but he was able to croon his neck to look at his boyfriend-friend thing’s dad. “Good. That's good. How are you feeling?”

“I-” His voice sounded dry. “What happened?” 

Tony paused for a second, then gently moved to sit on the foot of his hospital bed. “Peggy found you collapsed outside of your bathroom. You uh- you weren’t breathing by the time she got there and you didn’t have a pulse. An ambulance came and took you here and we uh- we flew back the second we heard.”

“Flew back.” Harley’s head pounded harder, and he squeezed Peter’s hand. “Why- where- why were you flying back?”

“We were in Germany for filming, remember?” Tony reminded him, instead of calling out how confused and groggy he was. “Peter, Steve, Bucky and I. We were all in Germany when-” 

Tony cut himself off and Harley blinked confusedly, “When?”

“I’ll let Pete tell you, kiddo,” Tony soothed, and squeezed Harley’s calf. “Do you want me to get a doctor or wait till everyone’s awake?”

“Everyone’s awake,” he murmured, trying once again to sit up. Tony reached, and helped prop him up against the hospital headboard. “Otherwise they’ll scramble in here and scare everyone for no reason. Something tells me it’s the last thing anyone needs.”

Both their eyes fell to Peter, and they watched the boy together in silence. Harley hadn’t noticed it before, but his boyfriend had tear tracks running down his cheeks, with dark circles under his eyes. His hair was tufted up and messy, a tell tale sign he’d been pulling on it and panicking. Harley’s heart panged- metaphorically- because he’d done that to his boyfriend. 

Gently he released Peter’s hand to softly cup his cheek, dragging his hand to his curls. “Is he gonna be okay?” 

“He will be,” Tony hesitated, “My son loves more deeply than anybody else in the world, Harley, and you’re one of the only people I’ve ever seen him willingly give his heart too. Sure, he let Harry and Ned weasel their way in there, but…it’s not the same as when he’s with you. So this- this entire event- the fact that he, uh, wasn’t in the country and couldn’t be with you immediately? It’s really got him shaken up.” 

“Oh.” His cheeks flushed, and he focused more on playing with Peter’s hair. “I don’t- I don’t want him to be shaken up over this. He deserves better than this.” 

Tony gave him a sharp look and Harley felt exposed under his eyes. “He loves you. I think he’ll be shaken up any and every single time you get hurt. Would you be shaken up if he got hurt?”

“Yeah- he- I don’t like to think about it.” Tony gave him another look and he swallowed. “I get why he’s so upset. I just- This is something I’ve had to live with every single day for years, and I’m terrified it’ll end up hurting him because it hurts me.”

“Of course it hurts him when you get hurt. You two are- you two are friends, and boyfriends, and that means when one of you gets hurt, the other is hurt with them.”

“Like with Harry and Ned,” he whispered, eyes focused on Peter. “And how Ned always cries when he hears about Harry’s dad because he hates his friend has to go through that.”

“Different games, same ballpark.” 

Peter shifted on the bed, and they both went quiet waiting to see the other boy wake up or go into a deeper sleep. His eyes blinked awake groggily, and he jerked, gasping, “Harls-”

“I’m alright,” Harley soothed immediately, reaching for his boyfriend with what little energy he had, attempting to tug him into bed. When he gave up, Peter scrambled into the bed himself, shifting to clutch at him hard, but tenderly. “I’m okay. I’m here. I’m here.”

“They said- they said-” Peter gasped out in between sobs, “Everyone was saying you were dead when I looked on Twitter and they were celebrating it and all I could feel was fear - baby, I’m so so sorry- I’m so so sorry.”

Harley didn’t really have the mental capacity to process all of that at the second, so instead he picked his battle, rubbing his boyfriend's back gently. “You don’t have to be sorry. Never to me. I promise you, you don’t have to be sorry.”

“I left you alone!” Hiccuping, Peter clutched at him tighter. “You were alone and you were dying and I was in Germany and I should've been here, I should’ve been here. I’m so so sorry- I’m so so sorry- I’m so so sorry-”

“Nope, nuh uh, we’re not doing this,” Harley pulled back to cup his boyfriend’s face, “We’re not playing that game. Should’ve, would’ve, could’ve isn’t fun to play when we’re talking about the hospital. I’m so proud of you and what you’ve accomplished and going to Germany to film was part of that pride. And I’m happy that when you found out I wasn’t okay you came back. You came back, and I’m happy that you did, just like I’m proud of you for working on the movie. No should’ves. You came back when you could.” 

“I-” The words washed over Peter and Harley watched them settle.“I came back when I could.”

Nodding, he kissed Peter's forehead. “You came back when you could. That means- that means so much to me, Peter, and I’m- I don’t even have words for how much that makes me feel. You came back to me. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” Peter’s breathing had calmed back down from sobs, and Harley began to smooth a hand through his hair. “I just- you couldn’t be alone. Or- or- I couldn’t be without you.” 

“You didn’t lose me.”

The words acted like stress relief and Peter went lax against his side, pressing his face into his neck. “I didn’t lose you.” 

“I’m right here. In your arms.”

“You’re in my arms. I’ve got you.”

“You’ve got me.”

Peter breathed out shakily, hands slipping to the side of his hospital gown, seaking skin to skin touch. Harley flushed, eyes flicking over to Tony who just smiled softly at the two of them and shook his head, everything about him screaming fondness at the boys. Deep down, Harley wanted to ask if this was okay, if the way he and Peter were tangled up together was okay, if Tony approved, if Tony disapproved, if he liked Harley enough to trust him with the boy pressed to his side. 

He ached to ask things like that, to gain approval, to know how the people that Peter loved thought about him. His mind wandered back to Tony’s words and he felt his flush grow warmer. He had been given Peter’s heart. This amazing, beautiful, kind, boy had willingly given Harley his heart. And even though they were taking things slow as snails  to the point they hadn’t even put a real label on it, something in Harley’s heart tugged and he just knew. 

The words were there at the tip of his tongue, aching to spring free, to tell Peter, to shower Peter with their meaning, but it didn’t seem right yet. They weren’t there yet. Maybe he knew and maybe Peter did too, but it would take awhile to get there. 

In Harley’s mind though, that was okay. They had a while anyway. 

For now though, all he had to do was close his eyes, and sink into the feeling of Peter's arms wrapped around him, and the curls brushing his jaw, and the eyelashes fluttering against his neck. When he woke up again, he’d probably be a little more coherent and composed, but for now, sleeping with his boyfriend’s arms around him sounded nice. 

Well. Boyfriend-Friend-Thing. Yeah. It was still nice. 

Peter Stark {✓} @P.Stark

I’m extremely disappointed in the actions of some of my fans. While I understand that not all of my fans responded the way a few of them did, finding out that one of my closest friends was in the hospital and could be dying by seeing a tweet saying “Ding Dong the witch is dead” was terrible. 

45k retweets and comments   50k likes

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Peter Stark {✓} @P.Stark

I hope none of the people who enjoy my work or enjoy me as an actor will ever do something like that again. I’m beyond disgusted at those Tweets and have reported them for hate. @hpotato is one of my best friends, and I’m wishing him a speedy and quick recovery. 

45k retweets and comments   50k likes

Peter had refused to leave his side for a few days, but finally, after a week of being in the hospital, Harley had gotten the other boy to go home. His boyfriend- his friend- his something, had packed up his stuff like a sad puppy, and his father had dragged him and a very unwilling Bucky out of the hospital room for some showers, sleep, and a good hot meal. Not that the hospital cafeteria didn’t serve meals just…not good hot ones. 

Unlike Peter, Bucky, and Tony however, Peggy and Steve didn’t not even entertain the notion of leaving Harley. It was made easier by the fact that Peggy technically worked in the hospital, and when she did have to take a break and step into her office she was never very far. Steve just refused to leave unless Peggy was there with him on speed dial, and even then he only left for at max an hour to go home and shower. Harley wasn’t exactly sure the five of them had gotten away with staying in his hospital room for a week because he was like…ninety eight percent sure that the hospital wouldn’t allow guests for that long. He suspected money, bribery, and Peggy were involved. 

It was really exhausting however, having to deal with them every time he shifted positions, or needed to stretch, or got up to pee. They weren’t treating him like he was breakable, per say, but Peter got nervous any time he showed even the slightest hints of unrest and Bucky absolutely attended to every little thing about him. It was annoying and he was actually really relieved that Tony had dragged those two home. 

Steve had been mostly a quiet kind of worry, unlike the other four- because Peggy would never ever admit it but out of everyone in the world she was probably the one who was most worried about her godson, just on bases of fear of losing someone that was practically her kid and that showed in a lot of ways, but quiet wasn’t one of them. Instead, Steve had been keen to make sure no one was overwhelming him, or that he was getting enough sleep, or that he knew that they were there for him.

In all honesty, Steve’s kind of worry was…nice. It was nice. 

That didn’t change the fact that as his hospital stay progressed Steve was slowly and steadily trying to weasel his way closer and closer to Harley’s poor emotionally distressed godmother. Letting her lean into his shoulder, placing an arm around her, looking at her with concern in his eyes when she was upset, letting her lean on him emotionally and physically. It was absolutely disgusting and Harley would not stand for it. 

Well. It wasn’t disgusting because Steve was supporting Peggy in a way no one else in the world could, but that didn’t make it any more right. He had to correct this, and he had to correct this now. Or at least, he had to scope out what Steve’s plans were for Peg.

Harley waited until Peggy had left the room to strike. “Alright, Steven, let’s chit-chat.”

“Uh.” Steve blinked, and shut the book he’d been reading, turning his full attention to Harley. “Are you alright, kid?” 

“Nope, uh uh, not about me.” Harley sent him a sharp look. “You see, Rogers, I am, by all means, the man of the house. Peggy has never had a long term boyfriend or anything after Fred, and that means that I am the man of the house. And as the man of the house, it’s my job to ask you what your intentions are with Peggy Carter.”

Steve stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. “Harley, you have no idea how much you just sounded like your mother. Christ- Man of the house?! Kid, you’re like eight-”

“-I’m seventeen! I turn eighteen in April!” 

“-And also, if anyone’s the man of the house, it’s still Peggy!” The older man laughed again, giving him a look. “Your godmother would be incredibly offended if she knew you were out here claiming to be the ‘man of the house’ when she’s the breadwinner and can do anything a man could. You know how she gets.”

“While you might be right,” Peter must’ve been rubbing off on him, because right now all he could do was pout at how Steve was totally disregarding his authority on this matter, “You’re dodging the questions. What kinda hooliganish shenanigans have you been employing to try to steal your way into Peggy’s heart, you scoundrel!”

“Jesus Christ.” Steve was still laughing. “Harley, I don’t know how to take you seriously when you’re talking like that. ‘Hooliganish shenanigans’? ‘Scoundrel’? What is this, 1935?” 

Harley pouted harder, “You’re avoiding the question.”

“Alright, alright.” The laughter died down, and all that was left is a beaming grin. “Honestly, I’m not doing anything to ‘steal my way’ into her heart. I just- I like her, and maybe she likes me. We’re two grown adults who like each other and maybe a relationship is on the way, and maybe it's not. I just know that she’s been the girl I’ve always loved, and I’ll be here in her life anyway I can.”

“Nope, not allowed, no sir,” Harley complained, glaring at Steve, still pouting, and internally wondering if this was how Peter felt when he pouted at people, “You haven’t done anything the right way here Steven. You haven’t asked me for my blessing and you certainly don’t seem to care about my opinions on this so I don’t care if technically you’re correct about being two grown adults who like each other, you haven’t done anything to earn in.”

Steve thought about this for a second, then nodded. “Alright. That’s fair. Since you’re the ‘man of the house,’ after all.” 

“Exactly! I’m the man of the house.” Harley paused. “But just in case, don’t tell Peggy I said that.”

“Oh no, I’m telling Peggy.” Steve’s grin widened. “I’m telling her that a Harley on pain meds is a Harley who likes to be called the man of the house and shovel talk me.”

Harley blinked, then shrugged off the pain meds comment. “You still haven’t gotten my approval to date my godmother so I don't think you want it very much.”

“I never said that,” Steve hummed, and made his face turn serious. If Harley hadn’t gotten to know the guy so well after the past few months, he wouldn’t have known he was acting. “I very very much want your approval Harley. Peg is- the world to me, and I’m never gonna ignore the fact that you are her world. She loves you, kid, and I know why. It's not just because of Macy. It’s because you’re this awesome kid who’s doing the absolute best and is just…genuinely so cool. You don’t have to give me your blessing, but I know for a fact that it's the one thing I do actually want. I want you to be happy and be happy that your godmother is with me. That's top priority.”

Well. That was a bit easier than expected. Honestly, he felt his eyes sting at the mention of his mother and how their love- all of the adults in his life's love- isn't dependent on the fact that he was his mother's son. He sniffed. “That’s so sappy. That’s so so sappy. You can’t just be that sappy at me Steve, you gotta save some of that sap for your dates with Peggy.”

“I’m this close to just recording this, I hope you know,” Steve told him, grining. “Never ever in the history of the world did I ever think I was gonna see the snarky, sarcastic, Harley Keener in tears because I told him a few nice things. What’d they give you kid, horse tranquilizers?” 

“Nah, I’m always like this on the inside,” Harley sniffed again, pouting once more. “But I can’t give you my blessing yet, Steve. I can’t give it to you until you prove that you actually love Peggy.”

“Kid-”

“She just-” He swallowed. “She’s always there for me. She never takes care of herself because she’s always looking after me, and before it was me, she was looking after my mom. I know she pretends to be strong all the time, but the constant stays in the hospitals pile up, and it's stressful and I hate that she loses sleep over me. She deserves so much better than what she’s actually got in life, and I only want to trust you with her if you actually want to make her life better. She deserves a good life. A happy one, with lots of money and the boy she's loved since high school.”

“And I would be beyond honored to give her that life.” The seriousness was completely genuine now, and Steve’s eyes were honest. “While I think she’d be a little offended on how you’re disregarding how much joy you’ve brought into her life, I agree. It is hard and stressful and neither of you deserve it. Both of you deserve so much better than you’ve got. Harley…I love Peggy. I have loved Peggy every second of every day of my life since freshman year. I never ever want to do anything to hurt her, and I always want to be there to support her. The both of you…I didn’t know I wasn’t happy until I met her again, and I didn't know that parts of my life were completely missing until the two of you came into it. I care about you, kiddo. I care about her too. And I would love it if you approved of me asking her out on a date.” 

“You’re so sappy.” Harley shifted, and said slowly, “I’ll give you my blessing. Just promise me it’ll never change. The fact that you want to make her happy. Promise me it’ll never ever change and that you’ll always make her feel happy and loved. She- she hasn’t gotten a lot of that in these past few years, and if you can promise that then- then I support you two wholeheartedly.”

Steve startled, eyes widening. “No hey, kid- no, Harley, please don’t cry. I don’t know how to help Crying Harley, only mean Harley.”

“I’m always Mean Harley,” Harley sniffed, crying harder, “I’m never Crying Harley. I’m not crying. ‘M just- you care so much about Peggy and that’s so important, Steve- that’s so so important-”

“Do you want me to call Peter?” The older man was panicking. “Kid, please work with me here, I don’t know how to help Crying Harley at all.”

“‘S just,” Maybe the pain killers were in fact making him loopy. “You care so much about Peggy and you’re everything my mom said you were and that means so much to me because I know it’d’ve meant everything to her, and I love that you’re in love with Peggy, you’ve gotsta get married to her, Steve, because if you love someone you can’t wait around for them, you gotta- you gotta-” 

Steve was still panicking, just slightly. “Alright, I have no idea if this is how you’re normally like on painkillers, so- so, instead, I’m just gonna tell you here and now, that the second me and Peggy are ready, we’ll get married in a small courthouse wedding just the two of us and our families.”

“That’s good,” Harley sniffed again, “That’s good. Cause then you’ll both be happy, and that’s important.”

Harley didn’t know why he was still crying, but he did register when his godmother came back to the room, and smiled softly. “Ah good, we’ve reached the crying stage of Harley on painkillers. He’ll be out like a light in a moment, Steve, just watch.”

“Oh thank God this is normal/” Steve sighed. “I was worried.”

“Crying Harley is, unfortunately, quite normal.”

“I’m not-” Harley sniffed loudly.“I’m not crying!”

“Of course you’re not.” Peggy grinned and he thought it looked like Steve’s. “You’re just having a breakdown. Why don't you lie back and rest your eyes for a minute.”

That did sound really really really nice. Okay. Yeah. That's what he’d do. He shifted back down into a lying position, but before he could close his eyes for the night, he looked at Steve. “Blessing given.”

“Thank you, Harley.” Steve smiled softly. “That means the world.”

Harley fell asleep to the beginning of Peggy’s interrogation on what in the world that meant.

[A picture of Tony and a five year old Peter. Peter’s in Tony’s arms, and his heads against his dad’s shoulder, and hes conked out asleep. Its clearly an image taken when they both weren’t paying attention, as Tony looks to be talking to someone left of the photo. Just another very soft moment for the Stark family.]

Tony Stark {✓} @youknowwhoiam

I’m really sad to inform everyone of this, but Peter asked me to come out and announce that because of people’s recent actions and responses, he’s taking a break from social media. The actions of some fans have simply gone too far, and until his mental health is recovered, he isn’t sure he wants to continue using this platform. Thank you for respecting my son’s wishes. 

52.3k Retweets and comments    59.2k likes

“Buddy?” Tony cracked open the door to his son’s room. It was dark, even though the sun was still blazing outside, and a Peter shaped lump was laying on the bed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Peter shrugged under the covers, and Tony took that as a cue to come in, closing the door quietly behind him. “I know things are hard right now with Harley in the hospital, but he’s getting out in a week. He’ll be okay. You know he’s strong.”

“I know.” Peter’s voice was quiet. “I know that, Dad. I’m just- I’m just tired.”

“That’s really really understandable, bambino. It’s been a really scary few weeks.” 

“I’ve been tired,” Peter said, quieter now. Then his son tried to sit up. It broke Tony’s heart in two with the pure exhaustion etched into his face. Peter was only eighteen years old… When did he become so tired? “These past few weeks were just- the icing on the cake. Dad- they- I knew that some of my fans went a little overboard, but they- they were celebrating that my boyfriend was in the hospital- and- and- they don’t even know he’s that. It’s just- between this, and filming, and the DM’s, it’s all too much.”

A cold fear snuck its way into his heart, and Tony sat on the edge of Peter’s bed, looking him in the eyes. “If it gets too much, you can stop. This can be your last movie for awhile. If it gets too much you can breathe and take a break. Buddy- you’re falling back into your spiral, and that scares me.”

“It’s not like when Ben died.” Peter’s voice was a little louder this time, but it always got loud when he had to address the trauma and depression and anger that came with revisiting his uncle's death. “Don’t- don’t compare me not being grateful for my fans to me being depressed out of my mind. This isn’t- I don’t- it’s not like when Ben died.” 

“Okay.” There was so much to unpack in that statement, that Tony didn’t know where to start. All that he knew was that his little boy was hurting, and he needed to do something about it. He needed Peter to know he was there. “Then it's not like when Ben died. Can we talk about why you feel ungrateful?”

Peter hesitated, and tears welled in his eyes. Peter didn’t bring them up, so Tony wouldn’t, but everything about this was like a needle driving through his heart over and over and over again. He’d failed to protect Peter from the downfalls of stardom and now Peter was suffering. His son took a shaky breath. “Because most days I wake up and I’m so happy to see that fans think I’m good. But I just- I feel like I’m living for their approval, and Papa, I don’t know how to like myself anymore. I feel like I’ve impacted so many people’s lives that mine doesn’t matter anymore- and- and- that’s only the feelings that come with the good fans that make edits and write me poems and talk about how nice I am.”

“And- and,” Peter was gasping now, and Tony could feel hot tears welling in his own eyes at his son’s sorrow. “I feel like I’m living for the approval of strangers, and that's where I get all my joy and happiness and life, and now this has happened, and it's so funny because now this has happened and I'm crumbling. I just can’t breathe- and- and when I’m not living for them, I feel so fucking myself because Harley’s there and he sees me and Ned and Harry see me, and you see me, but then I remember I can’t be living for you guys, and I just go back to craving my fans approval and I don’t know how to keep it up when they’re the same people that said all those things about Harley-”

“I’m terrified, Papa.” His son curled into a ball, clutching around his knees like he was five with a bad nightmare again, and Tony’s heart was shattering. He was supposed to protect Peter from this. He was supposed to protect him from this. He had no time to dwell on the guilt that he was feeling, instead just gently pulling his son as close as he could, rocking him back and forth gently. 

“I know you’re scared,” he whispered into his son's hair and held on tighter. “I know. It's- everything about what you just said sounds so so scary, buddy. I’m- I’m terrified too. But you know what?”

“What?”

“I’ve got you.” Tony forced his voice to stay steady. “I’ve got you. You can feel bad and terrible every day of your life, and I’ve still got you. But Pete- you don’t have to feel like this. They- They aren’t everything, Peter. They aren’t everything. Your fans aren’t the world, and we- we can help. We can help.”

Peter shook his head, sobbing quietly. “You can’t help. We can’t- we can’t control fans and- and- I don't want to stop. Acting- acting makes me so so happy and I don’t want to stop- but Papa- what do I do? What do I do? I can’t breathe anymore. I can’t be myself anymore- everyone’s always looking and I- I- I don’t like what some of them say about me.”

“I can help, bambino.” Pulling away, Tony looked into Peter’s eyes. “I can help because I’m your dad, and it's my job to help. I- we’re gonna have to talk about the fans, and about not listening to what they say about you, Peter, because you’re genuinely one of the sweetest most amazing boys on the planet. You’re perfect. And fans who don’t see that-”

“-No, Papa, it’s not-” Peter pulled away completely curling back in on himself. “It’s not the criticism I don’t like. I can handle criticism or the- the stupid frog mouth joke. I can handle that. I can handle all of that.”

Not for the first time in this conversation, fear panged through Tony’s gut. “Tell me what you can’t handle.” 

“I-” His son looked even tinier now, all curled up by himself in the bed, bawling his eyes out. “I can’t handle what they said about Harley. They found out someone I care about- my friend in their eyes- was in the hospital and some of them celebrated. And I know- I know it's not the majority of my fans, that a majority of my fans make me happy and make me want to keep doing this- but the fact that anyone could do that on my behalf- Papa, what kind of person am I if all I inspire is people to be so cruel?” 

Peter wasn’t done. “And It’s just- I don’t know how to handle that. I don’t- what if next time, if this happens again, what if he really is dead- and- and- that’s how I find out? By people celebrating that the boy I lo- this boy I care about is out of my life. I don’t- I can’t handle that. I can’t handle that. And then there’s the way they talk about me.”

“Papa,” his son choked, and that cold dread was back. “I haven’t been fully honest with you. I- I- I haven’t told anyone about what’s been going on. I get these- these awful DMs and it makes me feel so so sick. I don’t know what to do-”

Tony stared at his son. He knew what those DMs were, god dammit, because there had been a time when he had gotten fan mail from adults detailing the things they wanted from him when he was just barely fourteen. But he always thought he managed to keep Peter safe. To keep Peter away from it. He swallowed tightly. “Tell me what they say.”

“They call me-” Peter gagged. “They call me a little twink and tell me I look like I’d be good at- at-” He gagged again, cutting himself off, and Tony was glad that he did. He wasn’t sure how much of this he could handle. “Some people DM me and tell me I’m a perfect little boy and- I- I’m so fucking grossed out- I don’t like the way my body looks any more, dad- not when its something that they get to- to- to sexualize. I know I shouldn’t complain because most of my DMs are telling me I’m so cool or their hero, but some people will send me stuff and I just- Papa, I’m only eighteen- I don’t wanna be told I’d be a good kitten or- or- anything- I just- I want to be me. I want to be Peter.” 

“I miss liking myself and my body so goddamn much,” Peter hiccuped, still sobbing, “I miss liking who I am, and I miss the person I am when you and the rest of the people who see me are around, because when you guys go I don’t know who I am. All I know is that my skin feels wrong, and that people are always looking, and that I’m not good enough- and- I just- I’m so so tired.” 

“God, kid, I’m so-” Tony stopped himself before he said sorry. When he was Peter, he hadn't wanted sorry. “It’s okay to be tired. That’s all- that's terrifying, bambino. Everything about that is so terrifying that I don’t think that I’ll ever forget that. But-” Tony hesitated. “You’re not alone in this. You’re not fighting this battle alone. You’re not going through this by yourself. I’m here. I’m here, and believe me kiddo, I know how you’re feeling. I would give anything for you to not have to go through this. But- we can’t control them. It's sick, and it's disgusting, and it’s allowed to make you feel wrong. But we can’t control them, Peter, but you know what we can control?”

His son was looking up at him with desperate eyes. “What can we control?”

“We can control who we let into our lives.” His mind flashed to Rhodey, To Pepper, to Mary, and Richard, and Benny, and May, and Steve, and Bucky. “We can control who we let into our lives. Our support systems. People we can go too when our skin feels wrong and we lose who we are in the lights and the demands. We can control the help we seek, and moving forward, we can control what you see. We can filter DMs Pete, and we can take a break from it all. Marvel- they don’t do a lot of things right, but if you’re a money maker like we are, you can ask for a break. Not a long one, but a break.”

“I- won’t the fans be disappointed?”

“We can tell them that we’re taking a break because the company is afraid we’ll spoil,” Tony reasoned, then remembered that this was his son, and Peter hated lying when he could avoid it. “You also don’t have to explain. You don’t have to say anything. They won’t be disappointed because at the end of the day, it's you. You matter, Peter. And taking a break won’t disappoint anyone because you’ll be taking a break for you. Okay?”

“I just,” Peter chewed at his bottom lip, but the words had their effect because he had stopped crying. He reached for his dad, and Tony pulled him into a hug. “I don’t know how to be okay.”

“So you’re gonna go to therapy, and me and everyone you love will be there with you until you do know how to be okay again.”

The words soothed Peter, and he relaxed into his dad’s side, breathing out quietly. “I love you, Papa.”

“I love you too, Bambino,” Tony whispered, supporting his son. 

Because that's what he was here for. No matter how old Peter got, or how hard the world was treating him, or how disgusting others were, he was there for Peter. He was there to support Peter. That was his job first and foremost. 

And, now that he had seen this, he was determined never to fail again. 

[Harley, standing in his hospital room, having taken a selfie in a mirror set up on one of the walls. He looks terrible, but this is probably one of the first clear images of him. He’s pale, and his hair is messy, and he looks absolutely sickly. He’s grinning at the mirror, eyes sparkling blue. He’s probably one of the prettiest non famous people anyones seen.]

Can’t, I’m allergic  @hpotato 

i lived bitch

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Steve closed the door to Harley’s bedroom, trying to make the shut as gentle as possible. He and Peggy had to carry the seventeen year old to the bed after he fell asleep in the car ride home from the hospital. It was a good sign that he was sleeping, if they were honest, no matter the heart attack that came with trying to lug a seventeen year old up the stairs and around a house. He stayed asleep the entire time though, so Steve counted it as a small victory. 

He glanced to Peggy, who was leaning against the wall next to the door, eyes closed, whispering, “How are you feeling?”

“Hard to articulate my feelings.” She opened her eyes, and when she looked at him, she looked more tired than he’d ever seen her. “I think every time it happens it gets more and more terrifying. He’s just- he’s my family, Steve, and if I lose him-”

“-it’ll be like losing a part of yourself.” He nodded, because at this point, he felt the same way. Harley and Peggy had engrained themselves back into his life and he- he couldn’t go back to life without them. “If- If I can help in anyway…”

“You being here is more than enough.”

Peggy leaned off the wall, gently reaching for his hand. Their fingers linked and they made their way down the stairs, Peggy taking the lead like she always did. The way she did back in high school and the way she did in their college days and the way she was doing now. Her fingers were soft in his own, and he squeezed her hand gently. He hoped the message of comfort got across. 

She squeezed back and he knew that it had. 

“Are you hungry?” Peggy looked up at him. “You must be. I know I am. Hospital visits always make me hungry.”

Steve tugged her closer, quietly brushing a strand of hair away from her eyes. “Something’s on your mind, Peggy. Tell me what’s up.”

She breathed out, then in. Then she tilted her chin up, looking up at him with a set brow. In the back of his mind, he knew that this was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He loved her when she was quiet and soft and sad and he loved her when she was loud and angry and strong and he loved moments like this with her chin tilted up and her eyes hard and looked like the world couldn’t take her down. She was Peggy Carter and that was everything. She knew what she was worth and her own value and that mattered. It made his heart pang. 

He loved this woman more than anything in the world. He would spend every single day of his life showing her if he had too because he wanted her to know that. He wanted her to know that. 

Finally, after minutes of just looking at each other, Peggy cleared her throat, accent thick as she spoke, “Why did you stay with me in the hospital after Tony, Peter, and Bucky left.”

“You needed me.” Her eyes went sharper, and he realized those words weren’t the full truth. “I needed you too. We- We needed each other. You needed me there and I needed you, so I stayed.”

“We needed each other.”

“Peg, I’ve always needed you.” He swallowed tightly. “I needed you back in high school, and I needed you in college, and after that and we stopped talking, I fell apart. I just- I didn’t realize how much I needed you in my life until you were back in it. You’re here and I needed you. And you- you may not need me in the same way, but there in that hospital room- Peg, I think you needed me. I think you needed me because you needed to be weak and you needed to break over this kid whos a son to you was hurt, and you needed someone to be strong for you.”

When they were in high school, guys had gone wild over Macy Keener. Her long curly blonde hair, and soft sweet smile, and gentle blue eyes had been the conversation of so many locker room talks that Bucky and him just resorted to starting a fight when the topic came up. Peggy was also the topic of so many people’s hearts and minds, but no one ever mentioned how fiery her eyes were, or how strong her jaw, or how her cheekbones accentuated her face in a way that he’d almost never seen in anyone else. Looking at her now, he wondered why people didn’t talk about that more. 

Those brown eyes were making him feel like he was burning. Peggy’s voice was gentle. “You’re a damn fool, Steve Rogers. Of course I need you. Of course I’ve needed you. Thank you for staying.”

“For better or for worse.”

“You’re trying to be romantic.” She smiled, a subtle thing after days of grief. “It’s not working. You were never good at romance, Steve. Not once in our lives have you ever been good at romance, and I think it's funny that you think that you can be now. You’re not.”

“I was just getting it out there.” He hesitated. “That I’m in whatever this is with you for better or for worse. For All of Harley’s heart problems, and all of the stress of work and dating a celebrity. I’m here for it. If you are.” 

Peggy stared at him. Steve stared back. Gently, she tugged him away from the counter he had begun to lean on, and pressed her head to his shoulder gently. His arm wrapped around her, and he rested his cheek on her forehead. 

She smiled against his shirt. “Remember the night before prom, senior year?” 

“Mhmm.”

“You promised me a dance.”

“I didn’t end up going to prom, Peg.”

“I know,” she hummed softly. “So dance with me now.”

No more words were said. Instead, they just gently swayed in each other's arms under the kitchen light. Words could wait until another day.