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Recently, Harry added a gym to Oscorp; specifically for the gang to use whenever they pleased. However, he used it the most; whether simply out of boredom or to relieve stress, hours would pass in the blink of an eye.
Although the equipment was high quality, hundreds of dollars spent on each piece, he desired a training buddy to hone his newly acquired skills. To his disappointment, however, everyone declined — afraid of using too much raw strength that'd send him straight to the hospital.
He found it silly, even if they did have a point. The last person he could count on was Peter — but even he outright rejected the idea at first, shocked that Harry would propose such a thing. "I could hurt you!"
"I trust you!"
"I don't!"
Eventually, after days of non-stop pestering and attempts at proving his strength — which, compared to Peter, was practically nothing — he managed to convince Peter. After chasing him down the hall, he finally stopped and spun around to face Harry; visibly irritated, and Harry grinned.
"One time! I'll spar with you one time, but if you get hurt in the slightest-" he warns, pointing a finger at Harry's face, who doesn't bat an eye.
Lowering Peter's hand, he chuckled and said, "Underestimating me, are we?"
The smug grin was quickly wiped off his face. It's safe to say he lost the first match — and the second, even though Peter promised he was going easy on him, or he would've been sent flying through the wall already. Which, due to that very possibility, are padded.
By the third rematch a couple weeks later, Peter again denied the idea. "Are you sure? I don't think you're going to win at this rate, Harry."
Maybe he had a point; he had superpowers after all, whereas Harry only had technology to back him up. No matter how hard Peter tried, he couldn't restrain all of his strength; it was a part of him, after all, coursing through his veins. Sometimes, Harry wishes he'd remained a scrawny nerd — it wasn't fair that he suddenly got buff from a spider bite with no repercussions whatsoever .
But there had to be some way to beat him; other than with technology or superpowers. So Harry kept training, day after day whenever he got the chance. It had to pay out in the end, one day he'll teach Peter a lesson; not to underestimate him.
And that day is today. Weeks have passed, and finally Peter reluctantly agreed to spar. But if anything went wrong-
"Yeah, yeah," Harry rolls his eyes, shrugging off his jacket to reveal toned arms that Peter sneaks a glance at. "We gonna do this or not, Pete? I've been waiting ages." Rolling his shoulders, he does some quick stretches while Peter just stares.
After a moment of silence, Peter sighs and gets into position. "Okay, but remember, you asked for this."
He sure did.
They take it slow at first, sizing each other up while moving slowly in a circle. As per usual, Harry strikes first; running across the mat to land a blow that Peter easily blocked. In return, he throws a punch that Harry narrowly avoids, knuckles inches from his face.
Harry has seen him in battle; both up-close and in viral videos, which he studied constantly leading up to this day. He knows Peter's moves, and to an extent, how he'll react. It's not entirely fool-proof, however, as Peter nearly gets a hit on him; which he bends backwards to dodge in the nick of time.
"You've gotten better," Peter comments, sounding genuinely impressed — and not short of breath in the slightest. Harry doesn't waste time responding, kicking Peter in the side. He barely flinches or reacts at all — but the attack still landed.
Harry's heart swells, lips curving into a sharp grin. Peter's face is all over the internet — but Harry still has a few tricks up his sleeves. He tries another kick, followed by a punch. "Surprised?" He repeats his actions, Peter ducking at the last second.
And the look on his face is so satisfying. Harry wiggles his eyebrows. "Impressed?"
An answer isn't necessary, it's obvious by his widened eyes, which motivates Harry to move faster — just to keep Peter on his toes. Blood, sweat and tears have been poured into countless hours, to the point where Miles warned him not to over-exert himself.
But they don't understand, he has to work for this. At times, the spider gang feels invincible, especially Peter — no matter what's thrown at them, they get back up and keep fighting. He isn't like that, if he's thrown against a wall or dropped from a tall building, he can't just brush it off.
If something were to happen to his tech, or they were simply out of reach, then he'd be useless and vulnerable. Admittedly, no matter how hard or consistently he trains, he will never reach their level — but as long as he can hold himself up in a proper fight, that's good enough.
He can't depend on them to save him.
Nevertheless, it's a little disheartening to feel himself reach his limit, whereas Peter hasn't even broken a sweat. Though Harry's starts breathing heavier, he forces himself to keep going — one punch, two, duck and high kick to the side.
Peter grabs his ankle, another hand sliding up and squeezing his leg.
Crap.
With ease, Peter spins around and tosses Harry aside as if he were nothing. He rolls across the mats, landing on his shoulder; and pain ripples across his skin like a zap of electricity. Biting his lip to withhold a pained shout, he shuts his eyes and lays motionless.
Until Peter says, voice perfectly calm and flat, "I think that's enough."
"We're not done yet," Harry says between raspy breaths, pushing himself to his hands and knees. Wiping a bead of sweat off his face, he smirks up at Peter, who's frowning. "I'm not giving up that easily."
"Harry, don't push yourself."
Now that strikes a nerve. In one swift movement, Harry is back on his feet and charging at Peter, who freezes up. The first rule is to never underestimate your opponent. Peter barely blocks a few close-up punches, refraining from retaliating at such a close distance.
And thus, when an opening appears, Harry seizes it.
And before he knows it, Peter is pinned to the ground beneath him, eyes blown wide and mouth hanging open in shock. It takes a second for Harry to realize that he's actually on top of him, thighs pressed against his sides and hands pinning his wrists by his head.
He's actually done it.
A laugh bubbles out of Harry's throat, and he can't stop. Sweat rolls down his face and arms, glistening in the light filtering in through the window, and he's panting — but it worked. Peter is speechless, lips sealed and face bright red.
"I actually pinned you!" Harry exclaims between laughs, grinning from ear to ear. "I can't believe I got you!" The training has paid off, and he will never, ever let Peter live this down. Obviously it had been mostly up to luck; he caught Peter off guard at the right moment and it's unlikely this will happen again anytime soon, let alone in an actual fight.
But god, does it feel amazing to have Peter rendered speechless at his mercy . He's unable to form a proper sentence for the rest of the day without his face turning red, and Harry laughs his heart out, cherishing this victory while it lasts.
He doesn't second-guess Peter's embarrassment, even when Miles and Gwen raise their eyebrows at him after hearing of the event. They exchange looks, then smile like they know something he doesn't. "Uh huh," is all they say in amusement.
But he'l show them. His victory might have been a slip-up, but it won't be the last time; he'll make sure of it.
Or so, he planned to, but even after his success against Peter, the others politely declined his offer to spar. It's only a little annoying at first, with Harry rolling his eyes and brushing off their teasing smiles and insistence that they're busy, or the straight-up truth — that it's a little too dangerous.
To prove them wrong, he challenges Peter to a rematch that everyone gets to watch. On second thought, it is a bit of an overstep. On the off chance that he loses, he'll embarrass himself in front of literally all his friends, but what's done is done.
Except that Peter says no.
"Oh, come on! What, scared I'll beat you again?"
They're discussing it at the cafè over some coffee, and it's all they've been talking about for the past five minutes, neglecting their orders.
At the memory of last time's events, Peter blushes out of embarrassment. Embarrassment for having his ass handed to him by someone he underestimated. "No," he says adamantly, looking away. "I'm just busy that day."
Harry smirks. He already boasts enough as it is, if Peter loses in front of everyone against him of all people, without the help of fancy technology or overrated superpowers; it'll be over for him. Frankly, it'd be hilarious, and a high that Harry will never live down. Thus, he needs Peter to agree no matter the costs.
"How about this…" Harry leans over, resting his elbows on the table. "We bet on it. Whoever loses has to do whatever the winner wants for a week." It sounds silly in retrospect, proven by Peter's unconvinced expression; but he couldn't think of anything else.
Nevertheless, Peter sighs. "Fine…"
Harry throws his arms in the air and shouts, "Yes!" To the alarm of fellow customers. He leans too far back in his chair, causing him to fall backwards and hit the floor; but god, it was worth it.
A few days later, they're all gathered within the gym; Gwen, Miles and Anya stand against the wall, smiling with their arms crossed. He can't wait to blow their minds.
"Oh, this is gonna be good," Anya says with a grin that Harry reciprocates, equally as smug.
Turning around, he removes his jacket, leaving him in a white tank top. Peter is standing across from him, already nervous — and call Harry cocky, but he's going to enjoy this. Even if he loses every match-up after this, he would have proven that he can handle himself, and doesn't deserve to be underestimated.
He rolls his shoulders, and they give a long, satisfying crack. "Well, Pete, are you ready?"
For the first time, Peter is the one who acts first. One second he's getting into position, and the next his fist inches away from Harry's face; as if he teleported. There's hardly any time to react, and while dodging, Harry slips.
But he catches himself, and sweep kicks Peter off his feet — or tries to, anyway, but Peter immediately springs back up.
Their lovely audience cheers, torn between two names; but it's obvious who the favorite is. Their eyes burn the back of Harry's neck, setting his skin ablaze and okay, maybe he should have only invited one or two of them. It's too late now, so he tries to shake it off and focus.
But this is so different from last time. Rather than throwing punches, he's stuck dodging attacks, struggling to find an opening. Peter is moving so fast his eyes, let alone his body, can hardly keep up; and one, two attacks hit their mark.
It's no big deal, he can still turn this around. A rhythm is found; one, two, three, acting in sync while counting. In a way, it's not too different from dancing, especially since he's paired with somebody.
One; he ducks a punch.
Two; in the short amount of time it takes for Peter to withdraw, he strikes, landing two direct blows to his chest. Peter stumbles backwards, and without thinking, Harry takes the chance by the throat with a fire burning in his chest, and crimson flames flickering behind his eyes.
Blinding him from the fact it's a trap.
Three; he's grabbed by the shoulders, and it's pointless to try and escape — to keep fighting. Despite that, after being kneed in the stomach with enough force to make his knees buckle, he lunges forward into Peter's arms.
Feet slipping against the workout mat, he uses every ounce of strength to push against Peter. Who slides back ever so slightly, fingers digging into Harry's shoulders — and he could easily toss him aside, but for better or worse, he hesitates.
And while it hurts to be underestimated twice in a row, Harry can't help but be grateful for it. Their friends' cheers grow louder as the two tussle, Harry's arms wrapped around Peter's waist. He's so, so close, just a little longer.
His sweaty hands are beginning to slip, and his own heavy breathing is so loud in comparison to everyone's voices. But he's not giving up yet.
Fixing his feet firmly on the mat, he squeezes his arms around Peter — and lifts. For a split second, Peter is hoisted a few feet off the ground; earning gasps from the audience and himself. Countless times, he's carried Harry with ease; but this turn of event has his heart stopping, and colour rushing to his face.
The fight's still on.
He looks down at Harry, and the second they look eyes, the world stops. Harry freezes, and it has to be Peter's imagination or the exhaustion, but his face is flushed, beads of sweat rolling down his temple.
Rather than sparring, from an outside perspective; they look to be dancing, with how Harry is holding him. If this goes any longer, his heart is going to explode, already tearing at the seams and pounding on his eardrums.
Wiggling out of his grasp, Peter doesn't need to do a single thing as Harry snaps out of a daze and loses his balance, bringing Peter down with him.
They both tumble to the floor in groans and hisses of pain. At first, Peter assumes it's a draw, deciding to end it there before any real damage can be inflicted. Beneath him, Harry is breathless, eyebrows knitted in frustration and heavy arms lying by his sides. To his annoyance, there's no fight left in him; the fight has been decided.
Wait.
Beneath him?
Gasping, Peter realizes he's sitting on top of Harry, straddling his waist, hands on either side of his head. It takes a minute, but Harry notices it too, frustration on his face unravelling into embarrassment that has their audience snickering.
They cheer and whoop, but their voices sound so distant; cotton and white noise filling Peter's head as he stares down at Harry, not a single thought running through his head as he slowly leans down. This is exactly why he didn't agree to this.
He pauses, face inches above Harry's — awaiting confirmation or rejection, for Harry to push him off and scurry back in horror and disgust, hand clasped over his mouth. Yet, he doesn't do any of that… Instead, his hands fly up to cup Peter's face, and yank him down, smashing their lips together.
Albeit rough and far from perfect, Peter closes his eyes and melts into the kiss, propping himself on his elbows. Who knows how long it lasts for; but laughter and eager celebration interrupts their moment, making him withdraw and narrow his eyes at their friends, who are grinning.
"Finally!" Gwen congrats, sounding genuinely excited. "No offence, but we were getting kind of tired of your moping ."
Harry laughs, his hair a mess, yet it still makes Peter's heart jump. Even more so when they meet each other's eyes, and Harry flashes a lopsided, love-stricken smile. "What?"
Anya cuts Peter off before he can get a single word out, holding no mercy towards his pleading expression. "Oh, lover boy here was downright driving himself insane after your last match, going on and on about how hot you-"
She's interrupted by Peter groaning, sitting up with his hands over his face. He already knew they'd never let him live it down, which he should have seen coming; ranting to them had not been his brightest idea. Though he only meant to tell Miles, word spread like wildfire and soon enough, all three were eager to know more.
The last thing he needed was Harry to find out, he made the three of them swear to keep it a secret for a reason.
"You think I'm hot?" However, seeing how Harry's eyes sparkle, the corner of his mouth curving into a wider grin, maybe it's not such a bad thing. "Is that why you refused to spar again?"
Peter opens his mouth to protest, but not a word comes out. Harry starts laughing. "Oh my god, it is!"
It's not his fault, he can't help the truth. Anyone in the same situation would agree; being pinned under Harry by muscular arms, faces far too close — to the point where he could feel his hot breath down his neck. It's a miracle he didn't have a heart attack on the spot.
Harry sits up and pecks his lips, quick enough that Peter barely registers it. "I wouldn't say hot, but you're cute." His thumb rests on the side of Peter's mouth, the other fingers on the side of his neck.
"So," he says, tilting his head, "does this mean we're doing this again? Or am I going to have to choose somebody else for my training partner?" He gestures to their friends behind him.
Little did they both know, one out of every future sparring session would end in a kiss, distracting both from the task at hand. At first, it'd be nearly impossible to concentrate without recalling this exact moment, and the heart-racing emotions it carried. Confessing the truth didn't make it easier at all, even though it lifted a weight off Peter's shoulders.
But how could he say no to that face?
"Fine," Harry huffs, " partner. "