Wrong number :/~~Spider-Man

50th chapter! Woo

"What happened?" Peter asked, standing up from the bench and walking over to where Harley was standing, "who—"

"Nah, it was my fault" he shrugged, pushing Peter's hand away from his face, "I was being an idiot, no biggie"

"That's not—"

"Drop it." He said a little harsher than he meant to, scrunching his face up in regret when he realized it, "I just.. not right now" he breathed.

Peter could tell he was probably a bit shaken up still. The bruise hadn't even fully formed yet. Peter nodded quietly and sat back down, leaving room for Harley on the bench.

"Can I at least.. like.. help?" He asked, taking note of the little cut beneath Harley's eye from the impact.

It looked like he was hit with something hard, Peter didn't want it getting infected or anything, it didn't seem like Harley planned on treating it anytime soon.

"Whatever" Harley huffed, slamming his binder down on the desk.

Peter pulled out one of the first aid kids Tony had built into the backpack over break, grabbing an alcohol swab.

"Dude, you carry around first aid packs?" He asked with a hint of playful judgement, acting as if it was the weirdest thing.

"Had to use them a lot, old habits die hard" he brought the swab up to Harley's face, thankful they were in the back of class so that they wouldn't be getting weird looks, "besides, it came in handy, did it not?"

Harley stayed quiet after that first remark, hissing at the stinging that followed on his face.

"Thanks, Parker" Harley muttered, as if he didn't want to actually say it out of embarrassment, "appreciate it."

"No problem" he replied, rubbing some ointment on it and sticking on a little medical tape to hold the cut together.

There was an awkward silence, and Peter decided he should just clean up to occupy himself. He stuffed the reusable stuff back into his bag, and stood up to throw away the trash.

When he returned to his seat, Harley was pulling out the paper's he'd finished separating that morning. Peter caught glimpse of the drawings he'd seen, still in awe at the talent.

"Broke a sink" Harley spoke.

"What?" Peter asked, looking up from the paper as Harley closed the binder.

"The bruise, I mean. I was messing with the little knobs, and the tap just.. popped off, shot water in my face right after knocking me back" he laughed, ducking his head beneath his arm sheepishly.

Peter took note of the slightly damp hair he had, chuckling a bit.

"You're kidding" he laughed, setting his bag on the ground.

"What? It was a very traumatic experience for me!" He whined, lightly touching the bruise with his hand, "I got attacked by a sink!"

"I thought someone beat you up or something!" Peter defended, eternally thankful that is not what happened, "not that you were too embarrassed about the outdated structure of the school!" He teased, bumping into Harley with a grin.

"Man, I'm gonna have nightmares from here on out. Never gonna wash my hands again" he pushed Peter back, swooping his hair from his face dramatically.

"I've got hand sanitizers if you want" Peter reached for his bag again, causing Harley to laugh harder. "What??" He asked, pulling one out.

"You're such a mom" Harley joked, rolling his eyes.

"Hey, I'm just prepared! I didn't always have these expensive alcohol swabs to clean ass-smelling faces such as yours" he defended, tossing one over to Harley, who caught it, "at least my greatest enemy isn't angry sinks"