Wrong number :/~~Spider-Man

I wish I had a Harley when I was younger

TW. Very not good adult to child. Be cautious.

Oh, Peter, you know him?" Harley asked, relaxing a bit.

"Yeah" he strained out, forcing his stance to appear relaxed.

He still didn't want to raise any alarm, he just wanted to get out of there. Get both of them out of there.

It didn't help the silent alarms going off in his head, nor the fact that he couldn't do much to fight back if it came to it. He didn't even have his suit.

"It's been such a long time, Peter!" The man opened up his arms, his coat opened up as well, "why don't you give your old pal a hug?".

He was shaking.

Peter was shaking so fucking much.

He knew it looked like it was cold, and he knew Harley was too focused on the newcomer to pay attention to the terror on Peter's face.

He couldn't see a way out of this where Harley remained out of the loop other than following along.

This, this right here? He was more afraid of it that he ever was for movie nights.

Why?

Why the hell not?

At least this was one person Peter knew would always be in the wrong, no matter what sort of redemption this guy tried pulling out of his ass.

It didn't need to be said on how low his heart sunk when Skip began taking steps forward, his arms wide. Nor did it need to me mentioned how hard Peter clenched his fists, knowing damn well his nails were too short to cut his skin. Still, he wished they did.

He stood his ground, knowing damn well Harley would blow up like a firecracker if he saw something was wrong. This wasn't something to make a scene over. Skip wouldn't try anything out here.

It was just coincidence.

Besides, if Skip did try anything with Harley, Peter wasn't sure how strict he'd be on the 'no killing' people rule. It almost scared him that it wasn't a joke.

He was engulfed with the smell of his worst nightmares as Skip wrapped his arms around Peter, separating him and Harley.

Skip inhaled a large breath in through his nose, tripling the uncomfort Peter was feeling.

"You seem a bit chilly" he uttered in Peter's ear, his arms moving around Peter's back slowly.

Peter was going to cry. He silently prayed for the man to leave, his lip trembling into the shirt Skip had trapped him into.

At this point, he couldn't move if he wanted to. The term 'frozen in fear' generally was sparked by mild occurrences, as a deer would react being caught in the headlights.

This? Right here? It wasn't some spur-of-the-moment lock up of his limbs. It was an agonizingly long, stretched out period of time, where he was held still by the fear of the situation getting worse. His limbs ridged while trying to calm himself down from the practically screaming volume his tingle was throwing at him. Hell, even the cold was contributing.

This seemed to make Skip think this hug was meant to last longer, and Peter might've just started bawling right there if Harley didn't interrupt from behind.

"Uh, hi sir" Harley's voice was strangely polite, and nearly half the weight Peter was feeling melted off of him knowing this was over soon.

Skip let his arms drag up Peter's back as he released the teen from the hug that held a darker meaning, letting his eyes travel at the same speed as he turned to Harley.