Parley Oneshots

Crimson

request by siskayosh 

Random fact: y'all are about to hate me

TW: blood and injury

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel.

3rd Person P.O.V.

"C'mon, darlin', don't you want to go out to dinner tonight? We haven't gone on a real date in so long!" Harley exclaimed. Peter nodded, rolling his eyes with a laugh.

"Sure, Harls, dinner sounds nice." The southern boy grinned. "But you're driving," Peter added. Harley waved it off, nodding.

"Yeah, yeah, sure. That's fine, it's probably safer if I drive anyway," he chuckled. The brunette swatted at Harley playfully.

"Hey!" He crossed his arms, pouting. "I'm not that bad of a driver!" Harley put his hands up in surrender, laughing.

"Mhm, sure darlin', you're the best driver in all of New York." Peter shook his head, grinning.

"If you say so!" Harley wrapped his arms around Peter from behind, picking the smaller boy up off the ground. He let out a soft yelp, grabbing onto the blond quickly.

"Yeah, darlin', I should probably drive..." Harley laughed, pressing a kiss to Peter's cheek quickly. "Why don't you go tell your dad I'm taking you out tonight? I'll get the car started." The brunette's eyes widened.

"Oh, you mean right now?" The southern boy nodded, smiling. "I'm not even ready! I need to dress up-"

"Darlin', you look perfect already. You don't have to dress up for dinner with me." Peter clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

"Thank you, Harls, but I think I'm gonna get changed first. I'll be right back." The smaller boy ran off to his room, getting changed into a nice blue jacket, nothing too fancy but certainly not casual. "Dad!" He called, looking around.

"Pete? What's up?" Tony wondered, looking up from his work. Peter poked his head into the lab, waving.

"I just wanted to let you know Harley's taking me out to dinner, we'll be back in a few hours." Tony nodded, shooing the teen away.

"Yes, of course, go! Have fun, and be safe, ok?" Peter nodded, leaving quickly and heading to the garage. Harley was waiting for him in his car, a small, silver, college-kid style four door.

"You know we can take any of the cars in the garage, right? You don't have to drive that," Peter pointed out, gesturing to the side variety of cars surrounding them.

"Nope, you're going to get in my shitty car and we're going to go to a regular restaurant together. Nothing fancy, just two normal teens doing normal date things," Harley grinned. Peter sighed, holding back a smile. He loved how Harley didn't treat him like other people did, trying to get close to him for his money and fame as Tony Stark's son.

"Alright, then... I guess we should go, huh?" Peter suggested, getting into the passenger seat. The southern boy pulled out of the garage, driving to the street and stopping in the usual city traffic.

"Ah, you see, this is one thing I miss about Rose Hill," Harley sighed. "There was never any traffic there." He paused, a slight smile coming to his face. "Although there was a lot of homophobia. I don't think the lack of traffic is worth it," he mused.

"The traffic isn't terrible. Look, the light's green," Peter pointed, grinning at Harley. The blond stepped on the gas, driving across the busy intersection. He didn't see the truck until it was too late.

A large, black truck rammed into their car from the side, pushing it for a few feet before they flipped over, the awful crunch of metal etching its way into Harley's memory. There was a few moments where they were both blacked out, the car finally skidding to a stop, completely upside down. Harley opened his eyes with a groan, his head was pounding and his vision was slightly blurry.

"Peter...?" He questioned, squinting and rubbing his eyes. He blinked a few times, gasping at the sight of his boyfriend, bloody and mangled beside him.

"Are you ok? We need to get you out of the car, hurry!" Paramedics and police were already on the scene, the sound of sirens blaring into his ears. Harley felt like he was underwater, like he was drowning slowly.

"No! Peter!" Harley screamed, getting dragged out of the car by a group of paramedics.

"Sir, you need to calm down, we have a team working on it." Sure enough, there were a few police officers and paramedics trying to lift the car up enough to get Peter out, still unconscious. Sobs racked Harley's body, watching helplessly as they took Peter away from him, the ambulance leaving.

"PETER!" He screamed, voice breaking. He put a hand to his head, sobbing and screaming until his throat felt raw. He brought his hand down, crying defeatedly. His fingers were a crimson red, blood dropping down them. "Who- who's blood is this?"

"Yours, kid, you have a big gash across your forehead," a paramedic replied, frowning. "Hold on, we have another ambulance coming for you." Harley sat numbly, staring at the blood on his fingers. Sure, it was his... but that's not what Harley saw. In his mind, it was Peter's, spilling out from the gash in his head, or the leg bent at a very wrong angle, or the arm that was completely crushed under debris...

Harley let out another cry. Peter had been taken away from him so quickly, he wasn't even entirely sure if his adorable, doe-eyed boyfriend was breathing. Would he ever hear the soft snores of his lover again? Would they ever cuddle together in bed again, Harley pressing sweet kisses to Peter's forehead as the smaller boy hummed happily? It was such a small thing, yet it meant the world to Harley. Peter meant the world to Harley.

I'M SORRY

part 2 next!!!

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