No but for real here’s the first of my random parksborn ficlets to share. The thought behind it was Peter and Harry living together and they keep ending up in each others beds for various silly completely platonic reasons until oh no they caught feelings, they’re like 21-22 here
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The sudden whistle of Peter’s spider-sense woke him just enough to open his eyes before the full weight of a body collapsed on top of him. Peter wheezed as all the air left his lungs in a hard whoosh. Instinct kicking in he tossed his arms forward to grab hold of his unknown assailant.
“Ow,” came a familiar voice from the dark.
“Harry?” He asked groggily. “What are you doing?”
“...Pete?” Harry’s voice was different, thicker and slower than usual. “What are you doing in my bed?”
“This is my bed,” Peter answered, releasing his grip on Harry’s arms when he realized he was still holding them.
“Oh…” There was an unnaturally long pause. Peter could barely see Harry’s silhouette in the dim light filtering through the window, but he was very aware that Harry was still laying on top of him, making no motion to move. “I thought you had the one on the left…”
“We switched so I could have the one next to the window, remember? ‘Cause I kept waking you up coming back from patrol.”
“Huh...” Another long pause. “Oh yeah…”
Now that he was waking up more the silliness of the situation was beginning to hit him, and the slur in Harry’s voice became more recognizable.
“Are you drunk?”
“Mmm,” Harry finally moved, rolling off of Peter to flop onto his back next to him. “Maybe.”
A smile pulled at the edges of his mouth, now that he was looking for it the faint smell of alcohol was easy to pick up.
“How did you manage to get drunk at a work party?” He asked, letting some of the amusement he was feeling bleed into his voice.
“Old men… kept buying me drinks…” Harry mumbled. “ ‘s kinda creepy…”
Peter snorted.
“Sounds like a fun night.”
“Mm…”
Harry sounded like he was nodding off, so Peter reached out and nudged him with his elbow, startling him a bit.
“Hey, get out of my bed.”
“Mmf,” he groaned, “nah.” Harry wiggled, shifting so he could tug the corner of Peter’s comforter out from under him and pull it over himself, snuggling into Peter’s bed. “I’ll jus’ sleep here…”
“Harry,” Peter said, unable to keep the laughter out of his voice as he kicked lightly at Harry’s legs, tugging on the blanket to get it back, “go sleep in your own bed.”
“ ‘s too far away,” Harry whined, holding fast to the comforter.
“It’s three feet.”
“Noooo.” Harry snaked one arm underneath him while the other wrapped over top to yank him against his chest. Peter’s laughter died abruptly with a startled hiccup. Maybe the goal had just been to pin his arms down, but Harry ended up half on top of him essentially cuddling him like a body pillow. “Don’ wanna move…”
“Uh— fine,” Peter stuttered, trying to ignore the nervous somersaults his stomach was doing. His arms hovered awkwardly, unsure of what to do with his hands.
For a moment Harry didn’t move, and Peter thought he might’ve fallen asleep. But after a second he shifted, only to wrap his arms tighter, and a hot blush crawled up his cheeks as Harry’s face nuzzled into his neck.
“You’re warm…” Harry murmured against his skin like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Peter didn’t know how to respond to that. He was spared from having to think of a way because after just a moment Harry’s breathing turned even and deep as he fell asleep. Peter worried his lip between his teeth for a moment, finally letting his hands drop to rest against Harry’s back. He was sure this was going to be awkward when Harry woke up, hungover and confused, but for now he let himself relax into Harry’s hold. He listened to Harry breath, feeling the warm air curl against his skin, and closed his eyes, knowing he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep for a while.
New update for Strangers, link to new chapter here, beginning of story here. This is a little cavity inducing but whatever.
Excerpt:
They start out on the next leg of the journey with a brief stop in Newport where Maka sneaks into a drug store to get some dramamine for Soul.
He looks so reluctant to get back in the car but when she leans in, whispers that his secret is safe, and slips him the anti-nausea medication, relief washes over his face.
There’s a weird part of her that finds it endearing.
She starts out the trip reading her book, but steals glances over at Soul who is lolling drowsily, but contentedly against the window.
Black Star is asleep in the front seat.
“You can lie down if you want,” she says quietly.
“Huh?” he jerks back awake.
She folds up her fleece and drapes it over her legs. He doesn’t need another invitation. He wraps part of his seat-belt behind him, in a way that she knows is definitely not safe, and collapses, curled up on the seat. She leans against the window and watches the scenery while running her fingers through his snowy hair. She is surprised by how soft it is without the usual product in it. He lets out a satisfied sigh.
“Don’t drool on me.”
“I won’t.”
His face relaxes and a lot of the harness slides away. She heart skips a little weirdly and she gets the urge to touch his face, but she dismisses it. No feelings here.
