Parley Oneshots

Fever

request by siskayosh 

Random fact: angst is superior to fluff and nobody can change my mind (I like fluff but damn angst is just ✨✨)

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel.

3rd Person P.O.V.

Peter woke up with a groan. He felt sweaty, but cold, pulling his blanket up for warmth. There was a pressure in his head, making the brunette feel even more miserable. His throat felt rough and scratchy. Harley barged in, grinning.

"Get up! We need to get ready!" The southern boy exclaimed.

"Wha?" Peter mumbled, draping an arm over his eyes. Harley's smile dropped, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Hey." He sat on the side of the bed, frowning. "Are you feeling ok?"

"I'm fine, just give me a minute..." Peter moved his arm, blinking at the bright light. Harley seemed to notice, and asked FRIDAY to dim the lights. He placed a hand on the smaller boy's forehead, pulling it away quickly.

"You're burning up!"

"No I'm not," Peter denied. The blond frowned.

"That's not how it works, darlin'." Harley sighed. "I'll be right back, you stay here." He left the room, off to grab some supplies. Peter crossed his arms, pouting. He wasn't sick! He was just tired, that's all. The brunette pushed back the covers, feeling the cold air hit his skin, making him shiver. Peter sat on the edge of the bed, legs dangling off the side. He stood up, remaining upright for an entire two seconds before collapsing onto the floor.

"Oh my god, seriously?" Harley walked in, setting his box down on the nightstand. "You're impossible." He shook his head, getting Peter up and back into bed. Harley tucked the smaller boy in, noticing the shivers that ran through Peter's body.

"Thank you," Peter whispered.

"I just want to help you. You're clearly sick," Harley pointed out. He grabbed the box he had brought in, rifling through its contents to find a thermometer. "Open." Peter obeyed, letting the southern boy put the thermometer under his tongue. It beeped, alerting Harley.

"What is it?" The brunette questioned.

"103.2. You're definitely sick." The blond grabbed a washcloth from the box, wetting it in the bathroom. "This is gonna be cold," he warned, folding the washcloth over and laying it on Peter's forehead. The smaller boy shivered, closing his eyes. "Maybe you should get some more sleep."

"I guess." Harley nodded, getting up. "Harls?" Peter's voice was soft, almost childlike.

"What's up, darlin'?"

"Will you stay with me?" His soft brown doe eyes begged Harley to say yes. The blond hesitated, not wanting to get sick himself. But he loved Peter, and Peter was in need of comfort.

"Yeah, of course." Harley climbed under the covers with Peter, frowning at the heat that radiated off the smaller boy.

"I'm cold," Peter pouted. The southern boy shook his head with a smile. Sometimes his boyfriend was so needy- but Harley loved to take care of him.

"Alright, c'mere." Peter gladly cuddled into the blond's chest, Harley cringing at the temperature of the smaller boy's skin. "But no kisses until you get that fever down, ok?" Peter let out a whine, pouting. Harley shook his head, adjusting the cold washcloth on Peter's forehead. "Sorry darlin', but if I get sick who's gonna take care of you?"

"Fine..." Peter turned around, becoming the little spoon. Harley hugged him from behind, holding the brunette close to his chest.

"Let's get that fever down, alright?" Harley encouraged. "G'night, darlin'."

"Night," Peter mumbled, already falling asleep. Harley yawned, tired himself. They fell asleep together, Peter held in Harley's protective arms.

However, waking up wasn't as peaceful. Peter was sweating heavily, trapped in a feverish nightmare. Harley stretched, immediately taking notice of the brunette's sweaty haze.

"Peter. Peter! Wake up!" He shook Peter gently, trying not to frighten the fever-dazed boy. He woke with a groan, turning his face into the pillow miserably. "Hey, hey, it's ok. Maybe we should take your temperature again," Harley mused. He got up to grab the thermometer, coaxing it into Peter's mouth. The smaller boy seemed anxious, in a feverish way.

"Harls!" Peter exclaimed, voice slightly mumbly from the thermometer in his mouth.

"Under your tongue," Harley instructed. The brunette grumbled, but obeyed. When the thermometer beeped, the blond grabbed it, reading the numbers. "104.8," he read.

"Is that bad?" Peter wondered, mind hazy. Harley frowned.

"Yeah darlin', that's bad." He got out his box, rifling through it and producing a bottle. Harley read the directions, pouring a cup with the maximum dosage. "Here, drink." He helped Peter hold the small dosage cup steady, watching the smaller boy drink the medicine. "Water?" Peter nodded.

"Thanks," he murmured, head leaning back against the pillow.

"Hold on, I think you should take a shower before going back to bed." Harley eyed Peter, who looked half dead. "Or maybe a bath. It'll help with your temperature, and you'll feel better after." Peter looked unsure. "I can stay in the bathroom with you if you want."

"Ok..."

"Do you want me to run you a bath?"

"I guess," Peter shrugged, frowning. Harley nodded, heading to the bathroom to start the water. He made sure it was warm, but not too warm, so he could try to run down Peter's fever.

"Ready, darlin'?" Harley stood by the bed, offering a hand to the smaller boy. Peter sighed, letting the blond help him up and to the bathroom. "Do you want me to turn away?"

"You've seen me naked before," Peter shrugged, dropping his clothes to the floor. Harley nodded, lending a hand to the brunette as he got in the bath. Peter let out a soft sigh, closing his eyes.

"How's the water?" Harley asked, keeping an eye on the feverish boy.

"A little cold, but it's nice." Peter opened his eyes to look at Harley. The southern boy grabbed the washcloth from earlier, soaking it with cold water from the sink and draping it over Peter's forehead. A small shiver ran through the brunette's body.

"Sorry," Harley apologized. "We need to get your fever down." Peter nodded.

"Yeah, I know." They sat in silence for awhile, before the water started getting cold. Harley helped Peter up and out of the tub, wrapping him in a big fluffy towel.

"Feeling any better?" Harley wondered, drying the smaller boy off quickly and helping him into clean clothes.

"Yeah." Peter snuggled back under the covers, letting out a soft sigh.

"Let's take your temperature then." The thermometer beeped, the blond reading the numbers with a smile. "101.7. That's a lot better."

"Thanks Harls," Peter murmured, yawning.

"Of course, darlin'," Harley smiled fondly at the smaller boy. "Get some more sleep, alright? I love you." Peter grinned sleepily.

"I love you too."

every chapter ends the same way lmao I'm lazy

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