Chapter Text
Harry’s hands shake as he struggles to uncap the bottle of pills in his grasp. With one last tug of all his strength, the bottle slips from his grasp, little white tablets tumbling onto the carpet below. The act is the straw that breaks the camel’s back.
Or in his case, the spider’s back.
“Harry, I got it,” MJ says, her voice as calm and steady as she is. She scoops up the pills, placing two in Harry’s palm before twisting the lid back on. He squeezes them in his palm, wishing... hoping... they’d turn into dust. He wants this to go away. God, does he wish this would go away.
“Hey, maybe these are the ones that will finally save me,” he jokes, reaching for his water glass. MJ sighs.
“Pete will come back. He’s looking out for you. He’s—”
“I know,” Harry interrupts with a heavy scowl. It’s not directed toward her, of course. He’s just tired.
And... he thinks he has been for a while now.
He watches the sunset over Manhattan— a sea of yellow, orange, pink, and purple. It’s beautiful. How many of these will he have left? Will he even know when the last one comes?
“MJ, do you remember when we were in the fourth grade? Pete and I were in Mrs. Goldberg’s class, and you were in Mrs. Williams. During recess, we were burning ants with a magnifying glass, and you marched right up with your hands planted on your hips and called us psychopaths.”
She chuckles. “Yeah. I remember.”
“You kept going on and on about how we would grow up as murderers if we burned ants, and god, Pete got so mad. He complained about you for weeks on end, which in hindsight, should have been a clear giveaway that he was in love with you.”
MJ shakes her head, but there is still a small smile on her face. “You’re telling me he hated me?”
“Oh, come on, like you found him pleasant to be around in the fourth grade.” Harry laughs, causing MJ to laugh along with him. “Then we found out you lived in the same neighborhood as him, and he was livid! ‘She’s such a know-it-all,’ ‘god, Harry, she’s so annoying,’ blah, blah, blah.”
“Oh yeah,” teases MJ, “he was totally in love with me.”
Silence befalls them. Harry breathes in deeply through his nose and tilts his head back. When he was in that tank, there were a lot of things he wished he had done. He supposes that, if he’s going to die again, he should say and do what he wished he had before.
“I think I love him,” he murmurs. MJ squints at him.
“That’s normal. You guys are best friends.”
“No. Like... love him, love him.” The apple of his throat bobs as he turns away, ashamed of his feelings. He expects MJ to yell at him, or at least change the subject, but she stays silent, her eyes full of empathy and understanding.
“Oh,” she says.
“Yeah.” Harry rubs at the back of his neck. “He uhm, he told me he was going to ask you to Homecoming our sophomore year, and I got... I got this weird tingle in my stomach. I thought it was jealousy because I didn’t have a date, but then I got a date and nothing changed. The tingle didn’t go away. It... it never went away. And after that, I started seeing him less and less.” He laughs as the realization hits him. “Shit, he was Spider-Man then, wasn’t he?”
MJ nods. “Yeah.”
“Did you know?”
“Not until senior year. He climbed in through my bedroom window and passed out on the floor. I had to look up how to get blood stains out of my carpet. I’m sure the FBI flagged my computer or something.” She tugs on the hem of her sweater. “It was the first time he fought Scorpion. Gargan really did a number on him.”
“So he never actually told you. You just found out because you happened to be nearby.”
“I guess so.”
“Has he ever told anyone? He said it was to protect me, but... I think I would have felt better than knowing he wasn’t just blowing me off. I remember in college, there was this really big Halloween party at ESU, and Peter was gonna come be my wingman. There was this girl— Gwen Stacy— and man, she was gorgeous, but I... I had zero charm. Pete was funny, at least. I thought he could help me get an in. I kept waiting, and waiting, and waiting, dressed up in this stupid bear onesie, and he never came. I was so mad, that when I did see him, I called him about fifty different names until I ran out of breath. He never said a word, and it wasn’t until I had calmed down that I realized he had a black eye. He said he got mugged, and he was sorry for being a bad friend. But he wasn’t mugged. He was putting the Vulture back in prison that night.”
“You couldn’t have known. Those who don’t know Pete like we do... they’d probably get upset, and... I don’t think we could blame them.”
“But that’s the thing. I contemplated several times if I wanted to sever contact with Pete. You were going on your big study abroad trip, and I barely saw him as it was. Then, when he showed up at my apartment saying you guys had broken up, I...” You’re being honest, Harry. Putting everything out into the open. “I was relieved.”
MJ is quiet. She urges him to continue.
“He started hanging out with me again. Staying the night, watching movies, going to concerts. I don’t know if Spider-Man stuff was slow, or if he had some help, but every time he’d hug me, and the scent of his cologne would fill my nose, I’d forgive everything that had happened. There were plenty of girls I could pick up, but there was only one Peter Parker. There would only ever be one Peter Parker.”
“Yeah. He has that effect on people.”
“You guys had your whole lives figured out. You got your first job with the Bugle. Pete was doing funded research with Dr. Octavius. And I... I got stage four brain cancer.”
“You should have told us. You know—”
“I know, but I already felt selfish for loving Peter that way, and I didn’t want to make anyone worry. But... being in that tank, not knowing if I would survive the treatments... there were a lot of things I wished I had said, things I told myself I would say if I survived. And as soon as I saw you two, I forgot everything I wanted to say. I just wanted to be around you both.”
“You know we love you, Harry. More than anything.” She leans forward to gently touch his shoulder. “Which is why I think you should tell him how you feel.”
“No. No! I couldn’t do that to you—”
“I love Peter a lot, but I also love you, Harry. And I know he loves you too. Which is why I want you to tell him.” Harry is quiet, so MJ continues. “Look at everything that’s happened since you came back. Peter nearly died, and he’s out there doing everything he can to cure you. He cares about you.”
“That doesn’t mean he’ll feel the same way.”
“Then at least come out to him. Tell him who you are and who you want to be.”
“I don’t even know the answer to that! Pete is the only guy I’ve...” Harry trails off. He doesn’t know how to describe it, and getting into the details will feel too much like therapy, and he’s already had enough of that to last a lifetime.
It ends up being a good place to end the conversation, because the door opens, and Peter storms in. He looks frustrated, but not in a usual “Peter” way. The vibes are off.
Way off.
“Pete,” Harry says, voice airy as he stands up. MJ catches him when he stumbles and hands him his cane. He mutters his thanks. “Did you find him? Did you find Dr. Connors?”
“I did. He tried to take the suit from me. Can you believe that?” He scoffs, pushing MJ out of the way to step up to the window. A devious smirk crosses his lips. “I need this suit. It helps me be a better Spider-Man.”
“Peter, Harry is dying. Can’t you—”
“Shut up, MJ. This doesn’t concern you.”
“Hey!” Harry lashes out, eyebrows downturned and mouth tilted into a frown. “Don’t talk to her that way. You said you’d give it back—”
“Why don’t you pop some more pills and tell me how you really feel?”
“That’s enough, Pete.” MJ grabs his shoulder, causing Peter to growl. Literally growl. It makes Harry step back in shock, and his knees buckle out from under him. MJ calls his name, reaching out to help him back up. Peter isn’t done.
“Both of you are selfish,” he spits. “Don’t you see what’s going on? Don’t you see how this helps me? I need it more than Harry. I’m the hero, not you.”
And just like that, he’s gone. A fury runs through Harry’s veins. His blood boils, and anger bubbles out of his throat. He pushes MJ away.
Asshole, he thinks, using the windowsill to steady himself. He screams in pain and slams his cane against the tempered glass.
“Still think he wants to help?” Harry hisses.
“Harry—”
“Please leave.”
“Come on—”
“I want to be alone.”
“This is not the time to leave you alone!”
“GO AWAY!” The scream rips through his throat before he can stop himself, and the worst part is that he knows he’s responsible for a huge chunk of it. It isn’t the suit that he wants, it’s Peter.
It’s always been Peter.
“FUCK!” He howls again, tumbling to his knees. Harry scatters everything off his desk and kicks over his chair. When he finishes his tantrum, he scoots underneath the desk and pulls his knees to his chest. Harry counts his breaths.
By the time he gets to one hundred, MJ is gone too.
He is alone.
There is something strangely peaceful about knowing your time is nearly here. That’s all Harry can think about as his body deteriorates and he grows weaker and weaker. Pete is god knows where. MJ tries to help, but he pushes her away.
He doesn’t want to die alone, but having people around somehow makes him feel worse.
Harry loves MJ, and he loves his father, but the only person he wants to see right now is trying to stop a major supervillain from ruining the city of New York.
He’s been spending a lot of time at his father’s lab, trying to work on a cure of his own. His father is trying to do the same, but Harry thought maybe he could think of something unique, something that had never been done before. Something revolutionary.
So far, he’s done fuck all.
With another heavy scowl, Harry balls up the papers he was taking notes on and tosses them into the garbage. He jams his pen into the tabletop, digging a deep, pin-sized hole in the vinyl.
“Harry.”
He tumbles out of his chair at the voice. It’s late; nearly two in the morning, and he wasn’t aware there was anyone else in this building. By the time he gets himself on two feet and leans against his cane, the mysterious voice reveals itself. It’s Pete.
Normal Pete.
“You brought the suit,” he sighs with relief, nearly falling over again. This time, Peter catches him.
“I gotchu. Sit down, okay?”
“No, I... I need that suit, Pete...”
“I know. But I can’t give it to you. It’s dangerous.”
“No... it’s only... it saved me!” Harry feels the fury coming back. He wants to scream again but keeps his feelings inside. He’s just happy to see Peter again.
“We have to destroy it.”
“No. NO!” He tries to grab it, but Peter is much faster. He webs it to his back.
“Harry, please. I know... I know I was a jerk to you, but you have to trust me. Please? Please trust me?”
Tears prick his eyes. Harry shakes his head. “I don’t want to die.”
“You won’t. We’re going to find you a new cure. Your dad is working on one, right? One that’s going to be much better. It’s going to save you. I’m gonna save you.”
“There isn’t time.”
“There is. Harry, look at me.” Peter grabs Harry’s shoulders and presses their foreheads together. The heat from Peter’s skin makes Harry’s stomach stir. “The suit is an alien. It’s called a symbiote, and it’s angry. It’s growing angrier. If you put this back on, you will lose yourself, like I did.”
“You said I didn’t matter.”
“That isn’t true. You do matter. You are so important to me. And I’m... we’re going to make you better.”
Harry is crying again. He doesn’t care. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“To protect you.”
“Don’t give me some bullshit excuse. Why didn’t you tell me, Pete? All those times I thought you were blowing me off, all those times I thought you hated me, or that I was a bad friend, and you were off saving the city. I would have understood. It would have made me feel better.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve been selfish. I’ve hurt a lot of people, and I don’t want that to happen again.” He squeezes Harry’s shoulder. “I know I can’t make up for what I did, but I’ll be different moving forward, okay? I’ll be there for you. I’ll be around. I’ll pay for things, I’ll—”
“You think I care about any of that, Pete? It’s my dad’s money, not mine.” He forces a grin, which makes Peter chuckle. “But I have stage four cancer. If we can’t do something in the next few days, then I’m gone. I can’t go back to tanks and feeding tubes and radiation. I can’t do it. Please don’t make me do it.”
After a heavy sigh, Peter begins pacing, the symbiote still plastered to his back. Harry eyes it like a hungry predator watching its prey. Yes, he trusts Peter, but he also wants to feel better right now.
“We’d need something that could eliminate the cancer cells while still maintaining the health and balance of the rest of your chemical makeup. Perhaps something with regenerative abilities.”
“If only we could get some of that lizard DNA,” Harry jokes, but that makes Peter look at him with wide eyes.
“Or spider DNA,” he counters with an exasperated point. “The spider that gave me my powers was an Oscorp experiment back in the day. They must still be around somewhere if Miles got bit too. If we can splice your DNA with one of those spiders, you’ll be on a healthy path in no time. I mean, mine cured my eyesight. I don’t see why it wouldn’t help.”
“You mean... give me powers?”
Peter shrugs. “I dunno, but it’s worth a shot, right?”
“And if it doesn’t work... what then?”
“We’ll figure it out,” Peter promises. He sets the symbiote container on the lab table before offering Harry his hand. “Do you have any idea where those experiments might be?”
“There’s a hallway full of abandoned experiments. If it’s still there, it’s probably down that hallway. You’ll need my badge.”
“How many people are still here at this time of night?”
“More than you’d think.” Harry tries to stand again, but his knees shake and nearly give out. Peter wraps his arm under Harry’s shoulders to steady him.
“I gotchu,” he whispers, tightening his grip. Peter smells the same. He’s still wearing the same cologne he wore in high school.
“Dude, we need to get you a new cologne.”
“What’s wrong with my sandalwood?”
“Exactly. You’re wearing sandalwood.”
The two make their way down the hallway and to the elevator, where Harry scans his badge. He leans into Peter more than he needs to, fully intent on spending every moment he can with his best friend.
The corridor full of abandoned and forgotten experiments is long and dark. When they get to the end of the hall, Harry swipes his badge again and nearly screams. Well, he does scream, but Peter’s hand covers his mouth to mask the sound.
The room is covered head to toe in spiderwebs. It seems the spiders weren’t properly disposed of and decided to make the room their home. Probably plenty of food down here in the dark.
“This doesn’t look up to code,” Peter quips. Harry scoots back until his back hits the wall.
“I am not going in there.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll grab a few samples. Do you want me to meet you in the lab? Can you get back okay?”
Harry flushes. “I think I’d rather stay here with you.”
“Okay. Be back soon.” He steps into the room, leaving Harry to curiously peer into the web-strung nightmare. Does having spider powers make you less scared of spiders? That might be a good thing in his case. It’s probably lame to be a grown man and still be terrified of spiders.
As soon as Pete has the samples, they make their way back upstairs. Harry feels exhausted, and he knows he’s growing sicker with every second. This is the same disease his mother had— the very one that took her life.
“Pete,” he says, watching his friend splice genes and mix up a potential cure. “When you had the suit on... did you feel... weird?”
“Yeah. Well, I felt great, at first. But slowly... I felt like I had less and less control of myself.”
“That would have been me, huh?”
“I think so.” He turns to flash a charming Peter Parker smile. “Don’t worry. This will work.”
“I feel like we should make small talk during this, considering how weird these past few weeks have been.”
“Well... the weather’s nice. Coney Island is open again.”
“I’m sure having a giant hole makes the Speed Demon all that more thrilling.”
“And with the swings now in the middle of the ride, you get a two-for-one deal!”
“Pete, I’m bisexual.”
One of the test tubes Peter is holding shatters. He looks at Harry again. “Really?”
“I was in the glee club.”
“Yeah, but...” Peter blushes, which makes Harry laugh. This is nice. MJ was right. Peter is supportive. Why would Harry think otherwise?
The man who yelled at him a few days prior was not Peter. That was the suit, the symbiote, not him.
“How’d you figure that out?”
“Well, I guess it took me a while to recognize that the feelings I felt for a close friend were more than just... friendship.”
Peter’s hands fumble again. “Like the way you felt about that girl back in college? What was her name?”
“Gwen. Her dad is on the police force, remember?”
“Oh. Right. So the way you felt about Gwen... you feel for this friend?”
“I think so. I mean, I’ve never kissed a guy. Or... you know. Had sex with one.” Harry sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry. This was bad small talk.”
“No. No! I’m glad you told me. I’m here for you, you know that, right? I’ll be a better wingman. This time, I’ll tell that guy you’re the coolest person to ever exist, and when you’re feeling better, we’ll go on a double date, and it will be super fun and exciting.”
“Yeah. That... might be easier said than done.”
Peter doesn’t question his ominous words, instead holding up a syringe full of a bright red liquid. It makes Harry’s heart skip a beat. “Okay. Here goes nothing.”
“This could kill me.”
“But it could also save you.”
Harry eyes the suit again, which makes Peter shake his head. “Harry. Focus on me. Tell me about this guy you like.”
He supposes he’ll die without the cure too, so might as well. Harry rolls up his sleeve and hands Pete an alcohol swab. He clears his throat. “Well, uhm... he’s charming. Actually, he’s incredibly awkward and sometimes embarrassing, but it’s charming somehow. He loves photography, but he’s also the smartest person I’ve ever met. And he has a big heart.”
“Sounds like a good guy. How’d you meet him? You said he’s a good friend?”
“Uh, yeah. We met... in elementary school. He sat down at my lunch table and showed me the new Iron Man watch he got for his birthday. I thought it was the coolest thing to ever exist.”
The needle pierces his skin the exact moment Peter realizes that he is the friend Harry has a crush on. By this point, it’s too late to try and continue the conversation, because Harry’s entire body seizes up and he crashes to the ground.
“Harry!” Peter drops to his knees, eyes wide and face flushed, but Harry doesn’t have it in himself to pay attention. Everything hurts. He’s sweating entire rivers and can’t move his arms. His muscles are frozen. His tongue is swollen. His head pounds against his skull.
“You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” Peter mumbles over and over, squeezing Harry’s hand. Instead of the pain, Harry focuses on that, and the smell of Peter’s musk. Stupid sandalwood. I’ll buy him something nice. Something like Dior, or Gucci. He deserves to smell nice.
His teeth hurt. His eyes hurt. His stomach... oh god, he’s going to vomit.
“It hurts,” Harry manages to spit out between his gritted teeth. Peter squeezes his hand as Harry screams in pain.
“You’re okay! It’s okay.”
“Harry? HARRY?”
The doors barge open, revealing Norman Osborn. He rushes to his son wriggling around on the floor, and by that point, the agile Spider-Man is gone. Norman sees the empty syringe, the symbiote, and the spider samples. His shoulders sink.
“Oh, Harry. What did you do?”
When Harry wakes up, he’s back in that tank.
That stupid fucking tank.
He tries to shout, tries to scream, but the oxygen mask over his mouth and nose prevents him from doing so. Harry pushes against the glass, willing all the strength he has to set him free.
What he doesn’t expect, is for it to actually happen.
The glass shatters, sending him careening to the ground. Harry coughs, pressing his hands into the glass shards underneath him as he attempts to steady himself. Need to get this mask off. Need to find Pete. Need to...
God, everything hurts. Does that mean nothing worked? Is he still sick?
He tears the mask off and gasps for air.
Find a phone. Call Peter.
Peter’s call goes to Harry’s voicemail for the umpteenth time. It makes him sick to his stomach.
“Come on Harry, please be okay...”
“You said Norman walked in on you guys, right?"
“Well, kind of. I jumped out of the way before he saw me, and before I could do anything, he had the symbiote and Harry. So I... left.” He shakes his head. “I feel so terrible. He could be dead for all I know.”
“Have you called his father?”
“Uh...” Peter blushes. Why didn’t he think about that?
MJ shakes her head. “Come on, Peter. Seriously? You called Harry but didn’t think to call his father?”
“I mean, things have to be somewhat okay, right? Or else we would’ve known. Found out Harry was...” He can’t bring himself to finish. Harry isn’t dead. There is no way Harry is dead.
Peter collapses onto the couch with a sigh, tucking his head in MJ’s lap. She chuckles and begins to run her fingers through his hair.
“Harry is okay.”
“Yeah. You’re right.” He pauses. “MJ... everything that’s happened over the last few weeks... I’m so sorry. For everything.”
“I know you are.”
“Harry and I... having him back feels like a dream, and I don’t... I don’t know how to deal with it. I don’t want to lose him again. Getting to chat with him last night reminded me of high school, which reminded me how shitty of a friend I’ve been, and I started spiraling. And he’s sitting there bearing his heart out to me. He said—”
“He’s bisexual,” MJ finishes with a nod of her head. Peter blinks up at her.
“You knew?”
“I told him to tell you. Said you’d understand.”
“Of course. I am an LGBT ally.”
She snorts. “You sure are.”
“But then he... MJ, I think he likes me. Likes, likes me.”
“And how does that make you feel?”
“I don’t know.” It’s the truth. Sure, his chest is warm and his heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest, but he can’t say he’s ever spent time thinking about his feelings for Harry outside of “best friends.”
“Because if you think you might like him that way—”
“No!” Peter jumps off the sofa with grace. “No, MJ, no—”
“It’s not a bad thing,” she finishes, folding her hands in her lap.
Peter gapes at her. His voice is barely there. “What?”
“You and I have been off and on for years. As much as I love you, and I do, sometimes, Pete, you are a lot to deal with. Missed anniversary dinners, events you’ve had to bail on, missing graduation— all of that would be plenty of fuel for someone to dump you.”
He pulls at his shirt collar. Yikes. “Uh... yeah. Guess I deserve that.”
“But Harry never did. You are best friends. Loving him comes naturally.”
“In the way I love you?”
She shakes her head. “Love is difficult to comprehend, but there is more to it than just romance. You and Harry have a deep connection. You love him in a way I will never be able to understand, just as you love me in a way that many others will never comprehend. It’s not bad to love someone, and it’s not bad to show someone you care for them, in whatever way that might be.”
“MJ, I...” Peter blinks. “I don’t deserve you.”
She laughs. “Don’t say that. Just... get through to him. Show him you care. If you were able to woo me over sophomore year with the promise of pizza, I think you can woo Harry over too.”
Maybe she’s right. Peter does love Harry— he always has. Harry is his best friend and has been since the first grade. They knew everything about each other, and to say he cares about Harry is an understatement. He would die for that man.
Perhaps... perhaps that means something. Something he never sat down and discussed. Is it possible the way Harry feels about him is replicated in some deep part of him he never had time to investigate?
In science, if you want results, you need to conduct experiments. If he wants to understand his feelings, truly understand them on a deeper level, then he’ll need to bring science into this too.
“I’m gonna call Mr. Osborn and go see Harry,” Peter decides, already bouncing on the balls of his feet to go and change into his suit. “And I’m... I’m going to make sure he’s okay.”
“Good. I’m gonna try and get this article finished. I swear, Jonah will be the death of me.”
“You should quit,” he offers, disappearing into the laundry room. By the time she replies, he’s already donning his spider costume. “Seriously, if all he does is give you anxiety, then quit.”
“But this job...”
“Is not worth your mental health deteriorating.” Peter kisses the top of her head. “As soon as all of this is over— the hunters are gone, Kraven is taken care of, Marko is better, and Mysterio stops making theme park attractions— I’m taking you on a date. A fancy date.”
“I look forward to it, then.”
“Can you tell Miles I’ll be out for a bit?”
“Sure.” MJ stops him just before he leaves, mask already covering his pretty face. “Pete?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t be stupid,” she warns. “Whatever ends up happening... it’s okay. You, me, and Harry. That’s how it’ll always be.”
“And here I thought you were a jealous girlfriend.”
“Only when it comes to Felicia. She was a bad influence on you. Harry? Well... Harry is Harry. I love him too.”
“Yeah.” Peter nods. “See you later. I love you.”
“I love you,” whispers MJ, watching as Spider-Man zips away.
Peter perches near Oscorp Tower to make his phone call, figuring that Harry might be one of two places: in a lab somewhere deep in Oscorp, or back home in his room with an IV drip and an oxygen tube or two. The phone rings three times before Norman answers.
“Hello, Peter.”
“Mr. Osborn. I just wanted to check on Harry. I hadn’t heard from him since Monday, and I wanted to make sure that he...” Peter trails off, but luckily for him, Norman understands.
“Harry is alright. He had an episode, so he’s resting for now. I will let you know when he’s up for visitors.”
“Sure, Mr. Osborn.”
“Thanks again. For being such a good friend to Harry. He... he needs it.”
And like that, the call drops. Via satellites, Peter can ping Mr. Osborn’s cell phone to Oscorp, which means Harry is most likely back at the house. How a penthouse can be this high in the sky and still be six times the size of May’s house is beyond him. He’s always known the Osborns were sickeningly rich, but not even all the money in the world can cure an incurable disease.
That is, unless you have chemically altered and somewhat radioactive spider experiments hanging around.
Peter clearly remembers the secret lab Norman had inside his living room, so he hacks the alarm system and opens the door. Inside, he finds Harry on his hands and knees, hacking up a storm.
“Harry,” he yanks off his mask and drops to the floor. Peter helps Harry sit up, a slight exhale leaving his lips when he realizes that Harry... isn’t Harry.
His eyes are red, and his teeth have extended into fangs. When he reaches for Peter’s hand, sharp claws tear through the fabric of his suit with ease.
“Harry,” Peter says again, this time with fear in his voice.
“Pete, I... I can’t see... everything hurts...”
“You’re okay, I’m right here. I got you.”
Harry’s hands move so fast that Peter blinks and his hand is stuck to the counter behind him with webs. He gasps.
“Holy shit, Harry.”
“Pete?”
“Deep breaths. You’re alright.”
Harry listens, bringing his knees close to his chest as he breathes in deeply through his nose and exhales through his mouth. The calmer he gets, the more normal he looks, until Harry looks like, well, like Harry. He doesn’t look pale or sick anymore. He looks okay.
“Hey,” Peter says as he yanks the webs off his hand. He crawls over to his friend to pull him out of the glass and pool of fluids he’s sitting in. “Still hurting?”
“A little bit. Am I... home?”
“Yeah. You’re alright. I’m right here.” Harry takes Peter’s hand, gripping it like a lifeline. He opens his eyes.
Their mouths are so close to one another that if Peter were to... lean in...
His brain is on the fritz, going haywire like a broken fuse. Harry’s mouth is warm, wet, but firm at the same time. He feels a hand bury in his hair, steading him at the neck, keeping him within Harry’s grip.
And Peter, who has never kissed another man in his life, allows his best friend to steer him straight.
No. Wrong word. Not straight. Far from straight.
Shit, am I bisexual too?
“Uh...” Someone clears their throat, breaking the two apart. Dr. Connors stands at the door, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. His gaze is cast to Peter, still wearing his suit without the mask.
“Peter,” he says. “You... You’re Spider-Man?”
“Uh... it’s a rental?”
At least he doesn’t seem to care that he just caught two twenty-somethings making out in this lab.
After cleaning up the mess, Harry takes a seat in the living room and sits still so Dr. Connors can take his blood pressure. He’s growing stronger with each passing second, and if he’s being completely honest, making out with Pete helped too. His energy wasn’t the only thing he got up.
“How much do you know?” Peter asks as he sits next to Harry. Dr. Connors sighs.
“Norman called me claiming Harry had injected spider venom into his body. I don’t know what you were trying to achieve, but it did... something.”
“We thought it would kill the cancer cells if I infused spider DNA with my own. You know, like the lizard—” Harry clamps his mouth shut. Probably shouldn’t bring that up in front of the Lizard himself.
“You didn’t just eliminate them. You replaced them entirely.”
“I.. we... what?”
“You’re nearly fifty percent spider, Harry.” Dr. Connors scowls as he reaches for a stethoscope and checks Harry’s heartbeat. “Spider side effects aside, your cell count looks normal, and there doesn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary. Peter,” he turns toward the awkward friend next to Harry, “how did you... get your powers?”
“I got bit by an Oscorp experiment.”
“There is an entire room full of spiders down in the basement. Totally not up to code. We should probably get that taken care of,” Harry quips. It makes the doctor scowl again.
“Let me get this straight. You thought injecting yourself with spider DNA would cure your cancer?”
“It wasn’t like I could use the suit. Thanks for telling me that was an alien, by the way. And that it could have killed me if Peter hadn’t taken the brunt of it.”
“I didn’t... know,” sighs Dr. Connors. He shakes his head. “Regardless, everything seems... alright. I’ll have to do some more tests, take another sample of your DNA, but I think... I think your stupid idea might have actually worked. My other question... did you even bother to look up what kind of spider you were sampling?”
Harry looks at Pete, who shrugs. Dr. Connors puts his face into his hand.
“How were both of you put in charge of an entire scientific foundation?”
“Tensions were high! I thought I was going to die!” Argues Harry.
“Evarcha culicivora,” Connors continues. “Ring any bells?”
“Er... should it?” Harry asks.
“Vampire spider.”
“Oh.”
“Shit,” says Peter.
Harry stands up from the sofa. His legs wobble beneath him, but at least he doesn’t feel like he’ll pass out from standing. “How much does my dad know?”
“Not much.”
“Can we keep it that way?”
Dr. Connors looks between Peter and Harry before he presses his mouth together into a thin line. “I suppose I do owe you for all you’ve done for me and my family, Peter.”
“No, none that that matters—”
“But it does. Even recent events... you both did everything you could to help. So... your secret is safe with me. Both of you.”
Harry isn’t sure if he means the whole “vampire spider DNA” thing or the “saw you making out with your best friend” thing, but he’s thankful regardless. “Thank you, Doc.”
“I’ll let you know when I get results back. For now... keep an eye out for any symptoms. Both from the spider DNA and the potential effects from the symbiote. There is a lot we don’t know about both.”
“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Peter promises, and that’s enough to satisfy the doctor. Soon, the two are alone once more.
“So,” Harry begins, a grin spreading across his face. “I have superpowers.”
“I guess so. Vampire spider powers.”
“Does this mean I’ll crave blood?”
“Let me know if you do. I might know a guy.”
They both erupt into laughter. Harry hasn’t felt this happy since his last night with the suit. And he’s not talking about watching Pete get stabbed. That wasn’t great.
But going to Coney Island, finding out Pete was Spider-Man, that was a thrill. Harry nearly kissed his best friend right then and there.
“Uh, so. We should probably talk about the uh...” He points toward the lab, which makes Peter’s face flush.
“Oh. Right. Sorry, I—”
“Woah, pal. Don’t apologize. Safe to say I’ve been dreaming about doing that for some time now.”
“Really?”
“Really, really.” Harry’s smile returns. “I uhm, probably could have told you in a less... cryptic way.”
“That Iron Man watch was pretty cool.”
“No, it was. I just... I like you, Pete. And I have for a long time. Feelings are such a mess and I hate dealing with them so I just... ignored it. Ignored all of it. Made up excuses, told myself none of it mattered, forced myself to worry about other things.”
“I wish you would have told me when you got sick.”
“And I wish you would have told me you were Spider-Man. We both had secrets.” Harry exhales loudly. No. He can’t thrust blame back onto Pete like that. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I should have said something. I just... didn’t want you and MJ to worry. I wanted you to live your lives.”
“While you were losing yours?”
“It... It wasn’t like that.”
Peter touches his face, making Harry forget he was even about to sulk. He looks into his best friend’s eyes. “I know. Harry, I... I don’t know how to explain the love I have for you, but I think that’s okay. I think all of this,” he waves his arms around like one of those car dealership inflatable tubes, “is okay. It’s okay that the results are... inconclusive.”
“I guess that means we have some experiments to run,” Harry smirks. Peter flushes another beautiful shade of red.
“Yeah.”
“And MJ, she’s—”
“We talked about it. She understands.”
“You don’t deserve her.”
“God, no. I do not.”
“Missed anniversaries and parties, you missed the ceremony of the first award she got for that article on—”
“Yes, Harry, I get it.”
“You missed my twenty-first. Do you know how sloshed I got that night?”
“Do you still hold that against me?”
“Only a little bit,” he muses, leaning into Peter’s touch. When their lips meet this time, there is more passion, more aggression, as they explore each other’s mouths and touch as if it’s the first time. Peter slouches backward, Harry straddling his hips in the process. He feels rejuvenated, on top of the world, with so much strength he can hardly contain it. He wants to devour Peter, and Harry isn’t sure if that’s leftover from the symbiote, the spider DNA, or himself.
He presses his knee in between Peter’s legs, grinding down against his groin. It makes Peter groan.
“You don’t wear a cup? What if some bad guy tries to knee you in the balls?”
“They have, plenty of times,” Peter concurs. It makes Harry laugh.
“And you still haven’t gotten one?”
“I like the challenge.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“That’s part of being Spider-man, I guess.”
Harry yanks on Peter’s hair, tilting his friend’s head up and exposing his neck. He kisses the apple of Peter’s throat gingerly, teeth grazing the soft skin. Jeez, maybe he is a vampire, especially since he has the urge to sink his teeth in.
“I’ll call my blood guy,” Peter jokes weakly. Harry chuckles again.
“I just... I just want you,” he admits, and Peter sinks deeper into the sofa, falling under Harry’s control.
Peter Parker fights a lot of bad guys. Well, not Peter, but Spider-Man. Harry could go on for hours about all the supervillains Pete has thrown into the raft and still miss about half of them. And yet, there is something primal inside of him that wants to rough Peter up, mark his territory, prove that only he gets to see Spider-Man like this.
Well, he and MJ. He’ll try not to think about that.
Harry digs his knee deeper into Peter’s groin, moving it slightly as he runs his tongue along the inside of his best friend’s mouth. When Pete groans again, it lights a fire inside Harry.
“Can I...?” He asks cautiously, unsure of how to phrase his question. Hey, buddy. Can I get you off? You know, while I get myself off too. No homo.
Jesus Christ. What is wrong with him?
“Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yeah. I feel fine.”
“Your eyes are red again.”
Harry touches his face. “Really?”
“But I can stick to walls, so I guess I’ve seen weirder.”
“Maybe I can stick to walls too.”
“Would you rather test that out?” He sounds... disappointed. The fire grows. Roars.
“No,” Harry replies, rolling his sweatpants down to midthigh. This time, instead of using his knee, he drags his cock against the bulge in Peter’s suit. Dude should really invest in a cup.
Their mouths meet once more. Harry has had plenty of sexual encounters— a man with money is well sought out by most women— but none of them have ever meant anything more than just an excuse for pleasure.
This means more. It shakes Harry Osborn to his very core.
He had all the inklings of life to become New York’s biggest douchebag, and he didn’t, because his best friend was a geeky dork named Peter Parker.
They find a rhythm, grinding up against each other, mouths refusing to separate or depart, tongues engaged in a ballroom dance, and teeth biting down as if fighting for life. Harry doesn’t want to let go, doesn’t want this end, and yet he rolls his hips faster, more precise and cries out when Peter climaxes underneath him. Peter’s hand grabs his wrist, pushing at the soft vein on the underside of his arm, and webs— holy fuck, webs — stick to the coffee table.
Harry is too preoccupied with his own orgasm to pay much attention, and soon his boxers grow wet as he tumbles off the sofa and lands on the rug with a soft plop.
Peter, breathless, speaks first. “Did you just cum out of your wrists?”
“Shut up.”
“Taking ‘web shooters’ to a whole new level.”
“Peter, shut up.” Harry tries to appear annoyed, but his demeanor proves otherwise, and soon they are both in full-blown laughter. Once things calm down, Harry shifts, looking at Pete still lying on the sofa.
“You ever... do it in your suit before?”
“Uh... yeah. I dated... Black Cat.”
“Jesus, dude. What else are you keeping from me?”
“Nothing, I swear. But uhm... I don’t think I’ve ever... came like that before.” He chuckles nervously. “That was... good. I think.”
“No, it was good. It was... very good.”
“So... you shoot webs like, out of you? That’s new.”
“I guess spiders do make silk out of their butts.”
“Think you can do that too?”
“Guess we can try. But uhm... only if maybe... we can do that again? Or... another time?”
“Yeah,” Peter nods. “Yeah, I’m sure... I can pencil you in.”
“And not to, you know, kill the mood, but... if you were able to help Miles with everything, then... you can help me?”
Pete sits up. “Of course, dude. You don’t have to ask! Once all this shit is over with the hunters and Marko and the cultists, you’ll have my full, undivided attention.”
Harry smirks. “Did you tell MJ that too?”
Peter scrunches his eyebrows together as he thinks, which means that yes, he probably did. It makes Harry laugh again.
“It’s alright. I know... I know things will be okay. We have the foundation, and we have each other, and... I’ll get better. We’ll get better. It’ll... it’ll be good for us. To have each other again.”
“Yes. Yeah! Absolutely. I’m... I’m really glad you’re here, Harry.” Peter’s phone vibrates, stealing his attention away. He frowns. “Shit. Miles needs me. Some Hunter crap. Could I uh... borrow a pair of underwear?”
“I don’t know... that sounds too intimate.”
He’s joking of course, but Peter takes it seriously. “I do love you. Just in case I didn’t tell you before.”
“I know. It’s alright, Pete. You can go.”
“I’ll come back as soon as I can. Promise. You’ll be okay?”
“Yeah! I got this. Not the first time I’ve dealt with some new abilities.” He flashes a thumbs up, calming Peter down.
And, as he watches his best friend dive off the balcony and zip into the city, Harry feels okay. They can figure this out together. It won't be like last time.
He’s going to take a shower first, though.