Work Text:
Peter’s head rests in Harley’s lap.
They’re supposed to be watching Star Wars, but Harley stopped paying attention a long time ago. Somewhere during the first half, Peter shifted closer and curled up on his side with his arms tucked in. His eyes flicker open and close, like he’s hovering on the edge of sleep.
The room is dim, lit only by the soft flicker of the TV and the warm glow of a lamp across the room. Aunt May’s couch is too small for two people to stretch out comfortably, so Harley doesn’t even try.
He gently places a hand on Peter’s head and runs his fingers through his soft hair, slowly brushing it back. Peter hums quietly. His nose scrunches a little, then relaxes. He stays right where he is. Harley’s thumb brushes over Peter’s temple. His other fingers play with the strands near the back of Peter’s neck, twisting one around his finger before letting it go. It’s a slow rhythm. Calming, easy. He isn’t even thinking about it anymore.
Peter shifts, leaning into the touch like he wants more.
“You good?” Harley asks softly, not wanting to break the moment.
“Mmhmm,” Peter’s voice is sleepy and warm. “Feels nice.”
Harley smiles to himself and keeps going, threading his fingers gently through Peter’s hair. The silence between them feels calm and safe. It means something more than words could. The movie keeps playing, lost in the background, but Harley doesn't mind. All that matters is this: Peter’s head in Harley’s lap and Harley’s fingers in his hair, like nothing else exists outside this moment.