spideyguy: (71)
[personal profile] spideyguy posting in [community profile] newyorknative
Sunlight streams in through the window, diffused by a light, wispy white curtain. It gives the room a quiet glow, which makes for a very peaceful way to wake up. The clock on the bedside table reads 10:36, blinking over to 10:37 silently. Even the noise of the city seems quieter up here - and it would, considering it's floor 35 out of 37 (Peter's absolutely the one who insisted they not live in a penthouse, are you kidding?) The walls - it's hard to tell what color they are, considering they're completely plastered with pictures. Harry's paintings and Peter's photography, pinned up in an amalgamation of memories. Only one of them is framed, one of Harry's paintings, sitting center above their bed. Peter's got a gradient type of thing going on, different levels of saturation in his pictures. The outside is black and white, leading up to full color where they surround Harry's paintings. Look a little closer and - well, half the pictures are of Harry, laughing, smiling, scowling. Harry, sprawled out asleep on the couch, standing at the stove, bent over an easel concentrating on his detailing. Closeups of his lips, his hair, the crinkle of his eyelids. There's one by the doorjamb of Harry, clearly frustrated at Peter for taking so many damn pictures, reaching out in an obvious attempt to grab the other boy.

Something shifts under the covers, a little fluff of hair sticking out from the white, downy sheets. That would be Peter, in nothing but his boxers, pressing his legs against Harry's and looping an arm loosely over his chest. His ring is warm, warmed by the sleepy heat of Peter's body, but still an obvious presence against Harry's skin - if he's not too distracted by everything else to notice.

Date: 2016-08-15 07:34 am (UTC)
goblinjr: (➥ It's just like a dream.)
From: [personal profile] goblinjr
It's a gradual, foggy sense of awareness when Harry eventually stirs. The kind that lingers somewhere between sleeping and awake. 'My alarm didn't go off,' is his first bleary thought when he squints his eyes open, straining to read the clock. He'd be more worried if he weren't the boss. As it is, there's no meeting today and he can afford just a few more minutes, right? Oscorp can function without him for a little while longer.

So, Harry plops his head back down on the pillow, content to settle back in, barely giving it a second thought as he nestles against the warm embrace. It's comfortable, peaceful, and he nearly dozes off again without questioning it. And then--

There's no lazy blinking when Harry's eyes open this time. He's distinctly, acutely aware of an arm around his chest, legs tangled against his... There is definitely someone else in bed with him, and he's sure he didn't take anyone home with him the night before. That would require a better social life than he's currently got. It's then that he realizes this isn't his manor. Not his bed, or his bedside table, or--

Harry's propping himself up with a jolt, and he means to discover who he's sidled up next to until the volume of pictures catch his eye first. And why wouldn't they? Paintings and photographs practically envelop every inch of the walls. Perhaps that wouldn't be so unusual if he didn't see his face among them, or if he didn't spy his subtle signature on a painting he never remembered working on above the bed. Then - finally - he turns over to peer at the body next to him, his mind whirling with confusion, curiosity, and shock. He's already guessing when he spots the untamed fluff of hair poking out from under the sheets, but pulling back what hasn't already been tossed around by Harry's startled jolt confirms it. A face he's memorized a hundred times over, a body that he doesn't know as well but privately wishes he could be.

"Peter?"

There's an all too consuming part of him that's too preoccupied with staring in wonder and awe to know if that was even audible, or to be bothered with doing the respectful thing and giving Peter space. He doesn't yet see the rings on their fingers, too lost in thoughts that are scrambling to make sense of this. He's in a place he doesn't recognize that still somehow feels like home, lying next to his best friend the same way lovers would. "I must be dreaming," he muses, lost, trying to reel himself back in. That has to be it. A dream: humoring his wishful thinking, his repressed longing.

And yet it feels so real, it strikes him when his hand brushes absentmindedly over Peter's, still half-draped on his chest. Guiltily, that's what grounds him and he realizes he's been lingering too long. Regardless of where they are (and it hurts his head too much to think about it, so he simply doesn't), Harry knows one thing: he and Peter are not an item. After all his fussing, it's sure to wake Peter up if it hasn't already and the last thing he wants is to make things awkward by greeting him with a look akin to a lovesick puppy.

If all else fails, he'll apologize profusely as he's wiggling to the other side of the bed.

Date: 2016-08-16 02:58 am (UTC)
goblinjr: (➥ Now I can't stay the same.)
From: [personal profile] goblinjr
Don't stare, don't stare, don't stare.

Easier said than done when Peter's none too shy about stretching out and Harry's increasingly distracted by the sight.

So much for not disturbing him. Harry waited, anticipating similar confusion and freaking out-- only it never came. Instead, Peter actively sought him out. Despite Harry's efforts to slide to the edge of the bed, Peter rolled to close the distance again, reaching out to pull him the rest of the way. If he scooted any more, he'd fall off the bed, so he stayed. Hesitant and stunned as he obliged some of Peter's tugging, he still made an effort not to edge too close. Because... where was this coming from? They were close, but they didn't exactly cuddle. It's not until he hears the clink of metal lightly colliding in the midst of that tugging that his attention is brought to their hands, and he realizes. Rings. On their left hands. For a moment, he forgot to breathe, staring in equal measures of amazement and bewilderment. Talk about sensory overload-- there was so much being thrown at him in the span of a minute, Harry couldn't even find room to freak out about it. Somewhere underneath it all, though, just the idea of being married to his best friend made his heart swell in joy.

Only Peter's voice shook him from his daze, but he nearly missed what was said.

"I-- what? I kept you up?" Why couldn't he remember anything he should? He's fairly certain he and Peter weren't hanging out, but at this point, Harry couldn't be sure of anything. Even so, it still begged the question: how did those rings get there? They lived in New York, not Las Vegas! Maybe... they'd been drinking? ...Could they really have gotten that drunk? It's incredibly far-fetched, yet the only logical explanation after 'this is a dream' he could conjure up. "Somewhere--? No, it's not that--" That was the problem, wasn't it? There's nowhere else he'd rather be, he thought as he stared back at Peter, distracted by the many things driving that point home. The endearing bedhead, Peter's sleepy gaze, the notion that they could be married... He couldn't imagine ever growing tired of the way Peter was looking at him right now. But this isn't normal.

"--Um, are you... feeling okay, Pete? You're not hungover, are you?"

Because amid all of Harry's jumbled thoughts, that's the only thing that made even a sliver of sense. That they'd really been that stupid and crazy.

Date: 2016-08-16 04:48 am (UTC)
goblinjr: (➥ So many paths we can take.)
From: [personal profile] goblinjr
If Harry's awkward stammering and stumbling around weren't bad enough before, they'd gone up a few notches now that Peter had unhesitatingly pressed close to him again. His heart practically leaped into his throat and all he could do was sit there, dumbfounded. Even more so as it sunk in that Peter behaved like this was natural. No confusion, no questioning... Nothing. Harry fell back on "this is a dream" again, and truth be told, he was fine with not waking up for a while. Maybe it wasn't the "right" thing to do, but Harry didn't exactly want to move. It wasn't so bad just enjoying Peter's proximity to him, was it?

"I did?" No recollection of that either, but Harry wouldn't doubt it. It sounded like something he'd do and he couldn't help but laugh a little. Not because of the situation, really... but because of that one word Peter used: our. Our kitchen. Was this their home? He found himself scanning the walls a second time with enough curiosity that all he could muster in response was a somewhat distracted, "I mean... maybe I was sleep-baking."

Is he feeling okay? What a loaded question. He felt like he was in 13 Going on 30 or something, only he wasn't sure he wanted to just blurt out that he couldn't remember his life, this room, or how they got here. Part of him didn't want to ruin this. "I-- don't know? I didn't think you were the snuggly type." A weak laugh escaped him as his gaze wandered back to Peter, then back to their intertwined fingers, still in complete wonderment. Periodically flexing his fingers, reassuring himself that this feels real in slow, experimental movements-- as if he's waiting for Peter to up and vanish before his very eyes. "I woke up feeling kind of weird, I guess. I think I'm still half-asleep."

Well, he's not lying. A beat, and then:

"Sorry for waking you up. I know you're not much of a morning person." Because... Peter was still Peter, right?

Date: 2016-08-16 06:42 am (UTC)
goblinjr: (➥ That didn't go as planned.)
From: [personal profile] goblinjr
Oh, would Peter be in for a treat, then.

"Our wh--?" Harry trailed off for a moment, his mind slowly wrapping around the implication of the shower. "Oh." Nonchalant enough, until it really clicked, prompting a more emphatic and surprised, "Oh!" Followed up by a half-sputter of fluster and embarrassment, Harry immediately turned a shade of red that would put a tomato to shame. He hid what he could of his face with his free hand, trying not to linger on the thought very much. He's enough of a mess with just Peter in his boxers trying to snuggle. Not even bravado could save him now. "Well. I--" He cleared his throat, trying to hide further behind his hand; only his lopsided grin could be seen from under his palm. "Pretty sure that'd be impossible to forget." If it weren't a dream, that is, because - as always - there's no memory of this either. "Not sure you can sleep-bake on command, though."

He laughed, daring to peer out from between his fingers a little. They argued about that kind of stuff? Harry never let himself indulge too much in thinking what a relationship with Peter might be like, but thinking on it now... Yeah, they'd probably argue over the stupidest things. They did that enough as just ordinary friends. "Right-- sorry, sorry. I'm telling you, it's a weird morning," he replied helplessly. How much longer could he get away with not knowing anything about their life together?

...Not that Peter would believe him if he told him the truth. Either way, his odds weren't looking great.

Despite Peter openly insisting on it, and despite trying to fall back on the idea that this was nothing more than a very vivid dream, Harry still found room to wonder if it was really okay to relax, to indulge. Perhaps, more than anything, he was afraid to get used to something that - in reality - seemed out of his reach. He didn't want to wake up - for real, this time - in his own bed at his empty Manhattan penthouse, aching to hold Peter in his arms.

So, he refrained from wiggling back down next to Peter and instead proposed an alternative, "Well... um. We're... already up, so... why don't I just make us some breakfast?" Fumbling around with the cupboards, trying to figure out where everything was at, seemed like a better option than fumbling with his feelings.

Date: 2016-08-16 04:25 pm (UTC)
goblinjr: (➥ So... call me maybe?)
From: [personal profile] goblinjr
'I wish I could remember what happened,' danced across Harry's mind and he only grew more embarrassed for it. He shouldn't be thinking about Peter like that, but he found himself burning with curiosity regardless. So... "Remind me--?" Harry starts to blurt out of impulse, only for his eyes to widen at his less-than-appropriate display of eagerness to know - 'What are you doing, you idiot?' He clamped down on his lower lip and made an immediate grab for a pillow, slapping it over his red face. Suddenly, he's found it impossible to look Peter in the eye. Or at all, at the moment.

The amount of stupidity in the Parker-Osborn household must have been through the roof. He peeked out one side of the pillow to glance at the clock again, because after everything that's been thrown at him, he's already completely forgotten what time it was supposed to be. A pause punctuated the air before Harry finally turned enough to give Peter a half-muffled answer that he's trying his damnedest to ease into a comfortable tease, "It's almost 11. Only an hour before my breakfast menu is taken down and I start serving lunch and dinner instead."

Only when he felt Peter start to move next to him did Harry pull back the pillow a bit to watch him, where he was greeted with a kiss to his cheek. That was all it took to make a hopeless goofy-ass grin cut through all of his embarrassment. "I'm sorry for trying to be a good--" Well, they were obviously more than friends. Boyfriend? He quickly remembered the rings and struggled not to devolve into further blissful goofiness. "--husband?" His best efforts not to cave and revel in whatever strange but happy little world he was in were already failing him.

Date: 2016-08-17 06:00 am (UTC)
goblinjr: (➥ Where broken hearts mend.)
From: [personal profile] goblinjr
Harry could hardly even give that a proper response. Even if he weren't embarrassed (and at this rate, it was beginning to feel entirely pointless), he was more distracted by Peter's sincere happiness. Peter always - understandably - seemed so burdened, so bogged down by loss and the incessant demands of his busy and unrelenting life. He still smiled and laughed, but not quite like this. Never in a way that completely hid his pain. The pillow gradually - unconsciously - lowered while Harry, for what must have been the hundredth time already, stared in wonder. It made his heart glow to see Peter so peaceful, and the idea that he had a part in that tugged his lips into a hopeless smile. "Just, um... Suddenly, I'm reminded how lucky I am," he managed after a moment, expelling a quiet breath of a laugh.

It was strange but not unwelcome to see Peter being so affectionate with him, and his hand ended up drifting out to rest on Peter's. He couldn't quite get used to seeing those rings; it seemed like his breath caught every time he saw them. "Sure thing, pal."

And it was certainly enough to get Harry staring again, and this time with a quiet smitten, "Wow." He started to slide off the bed himself, only tearing his eyes away when he nearly tipped headfirst over the side. Wouldn't that have been embarrassing. "Are you kidding? You have a huge appetite. It's almost a full-time job keeping you fed," he countered, his teasing more natural this time. That, he had experience with. Harry could cook something meant to feed four people and Peter could single-handedly eat it all if he wanted. "Good thing I'm rich?" Or is it we? What exactly was Peter up to in this strange reality? Another thing he wanted to ask but wasn't sure how.

...And yet another: he suddenly realized he had no idea where his clothes were. Obviously they had a closet, but Harry wouldn't put it past... alternate him to have a huge walk-in closet somewhere. So, he ended up hanging back, just trying to low-key watch where Peter went for a clue.

Date: 2016-08-17 08:50 pm (UTC)
goblinjr: (➥ I know a little secret.)
From: [personal profile] goblinjr
'If I can find it, sure,' Harry thought. Getting through breakfast was going to be something else, especially if the kitchen was in as much of a mess as Peter said. With any luck, he could use that as an excuse for not being able to find anything. "How could I say no to that face?" he replied, playfully booping Peter's chin with a knuckle. Did Peter ever pout, even jokingly? Harry couldn't remember the last time that happened, which made it doubly adorable.

Deliberately dangling himself in front of Harry-- let it never be said that Peter couldn't be conniving. A tinge of pink crept back through Harry's face as he chewed on the inside of his lip, trying not to grin. Yep. Damn lucky, alright. "Garbage disposal, maybe. You're about as noisy."

"Wow, Peter. You made us into trillionaires." It wasn't hard to believe that Peter never really warmed up to the idea of spending a lot of money. Harry's spending habits could be frivolous and he never thought twice about it, but Peter came from a vastly different background. He never liked taking money from Harry before, and it probably wasn't much different now. Probably still had to twist his arm to get him to spend money on himself or accept gifts. Which - in a roundabout way - reminded him-- "Hey, um. Have you talked to May?" Surely they kept in touch often. It's not that he's wondering about. If anyone deserved a break, it was that woman. It seems intuitive to Harry that one of the first things they would have done is set her up so she'd never have to worry again, in spite of her protests. After all, she's family, too. With or without a marriage to Peter. Of course Harry wondered how she was doing.

Ever so helpful. Not that Harry helped his own case, for when he began to idly wander after Peter, he slowly tapered off into lingering behind. Now that he could get a proper look at all the pictures on the walls, he found himself captivated by them again... Especially Peter's photography. He'd always had an eye for that kind of thing, and Harry always thought it was kind of funny given how technical he was about things. Maybe that worked in his favor here, but there was no mistaking it: there was some definite artistry in them. Even in the way Peter had lined them up on the walls. Strange... to see so many pictures of himself and of him with Peter up there. One caught his eye in particular. It seemed to be at their wedding if the tuxes were anything to go by. Moreover, there was cake smashed into both of their faces - because of course they wouldn't think twice about lobbing their own wedding cake at each other - and they were laughing.

"Man, it'd take somebody a year to look through all these pictures," he remarked aloud, still smiling in delirious joy. Especially for Harry, who kept getting hung up on individual pictures, almost overwhelmed by how much he wanted this to be real. Everything he'd ever wanted was right in front of him, and he was dumbfounded by it.
Edited (wow grammar) Date: 2016-08-17 08:54 pm (UTC)

Date: 2016-09-19 01:51 am (UTC)
goblinjr: (➥ Where broken hearts mend.)
From: [personal profile] goblinjr
"Yeah, well." Harry gave a helpless shrug. "When you're irresistible, you're irresistible." Despite his utter cluelessness in regard to their newfound life together, Harry's pretty sure Peter has him wrapped around his finger. He's got enough self-awareness to know that Peter can generally talk him into almost anything as it is, and it's probably only gotten worse by now. Surely Peter's become marginally aware of his influence over him. But more than anything, Harry's genuinely blown away by how happy Peter is. It's never really struck him how long it's been since he's seen an unburdened smile until now. It's awfully sad, thinking about it that way, but Harry's too mesmerized by the sincere joy to linger on it.

"I'm not noisy," Harry argued, making a face. "When am I ever noisy?"

And still - but not surprisingly - in touch with May. Good. Even less surprising, Harry had no recollection of what was supposed to be this Sunday either. "Uh-- no. What's Sunday?" At least he could ask non-suspiciously for the most part, but the commentary on her meatloaf got a laugh out of him. "Yeah, that meatloaf is like... borderline toxic. It's a miracle you survived her cooking." Alright, so May wasn't really a bad cook, but that meatloaf. Harry'd had the misfortune of trying to eat it on a few occasions. "C'mon, you're acting like we dropped a nuke on it or something." The kitchen couldn't be that bad, could it?

Indeed, Harry spotted that picture, wondering the story behind it - as he did with many of them. Just another intimate little fragment of this life that Harry wanted to know more and more about. He's startled out of his wonderment when Peter stepped up behind him, still showing no shyness about personal space. By the time he got used to this, he'd probably wake up, but Harry relaxed easily enough anyway, pausing to smile fondly at Peter. He does a better job of not gawking at their rings this time when he moved a hand to rest on one of Peter's arms.

"My favorite?" It was like a sea of things Harry loved staring at, those pictures. Nigh impossible to pick just one. With Peter manning the camera, there weren't a lot with him in them, but there were a few. One in particular looked like Harry had probably stolen the camera to give Peter a taste of his own medicine or maybe even just for the sake of trying. Either way, it was pretty obvious that he was nowhere near as good at it as Peter. The centering was off, the usage of space was unbalanced-- it was a very flawed picture. But Peter was smiling so brightly, so warmly, it made up for it; he was the star of the picture.

So, Harry pointed to that one. "I love how happy you look. You've got the best smile," he answered, his voice warm. Enchanted, perhaps.

Date: 2016-09-20 04:28 am (UTC)
goblinjr: (➥ If I could have one wish.)
From: [personal profile] goblinjr
"Start what?" Harry laughed, holding his hands up defensively. "I mean... you are," he half-mumbled, his smile going crooked in that way it tends to do when he's smitten or amused. Even the hair ruffle's inspiring a dopey look. It may seem small or idle to Peter, but to Harry, even the littlest shows of affection are new and wonderful. "What look is that?" he asked. Genuinely and perfectly oblivious to his continued looks of wonder and adoration.

Left to fill in the blanks for himself, Harry's mind - of course - wandered back to the shower whether that was the correct implication or not. His face probably invented a new shade of red in the process. A faux indignant "Shut up--" was the only thing Harry could think to say.

Sunday dinners? A tradition of theirs? Harry tilted his head, smiling in marvel. Again. "Really?" ...A beat, and Harry realized he should know that; he was being too open with his astonishment and surprise. He immediately jumped to correct himself. "I mean-- yeah, no. I just thought--" Quick, come up with an excuse! Harry scratched the side of his face. "Maybe you two had some other plans on top of that? Y'know, kick me to the curb for an evening for you guys to have some quality aunt-nephew time." They'll be even with all of the looks of awe Harry keeps giving in return. I wish, he started to say before clamping down on his lip to stop himself. He remembered nothing, unfortunately. "You'd be surprised. I did ask for a reminder earlier," he answered, injecting an edge of teasing into his tone. It was the truth, though.

The kiss sent goosebumps rippling up his arms and Harry found himself sinking back against Peter some. He couldn't help it. Peter's arms wrapped around his waist, his warm lips against his skin-- Harry practically melted. "Really? Your favorite, too? --How come?" He had a feeling Peter's reasons were different than his, after all.

He absentmindedly brought a hand up to Peter's head, fingers twining in his tousled hair when he pressed closer. His eyes fluttered shut at the kiss, unable to stop a happy little sigh from escaping his lips. "Pretty sure that's impossible," he answered honestly. "You're in a league of your own, Pete."

Date: 2016-10-08 04:11 am (UTC)
goblinjr: (➥ (peter) I could set you free.)
From: [personal profile] goblinjr
"I wasn't doing anything," Harry argued with a laugh. "You're totally paranoid. I mean, I was just making an honest statement and you're flipping out at me--" His innocent act is almost convincing, and maybe it'd work on someone who hadn't known him for most of his life. ...And maybe if he wasn't helplessly distracted by that sincere smile. "It doesn't?" He makes an alarmed face, like this is completely news to him and that Peter and the rest of the Parker family didn't always have loads of faith in him. "You might be the only person in New York who thinks so."

And Harry might even try if he weren't such a flustered mess, because it's still just mindboggling to hear Peter be so forward with him. This is completely uncharted territory, and he's really trying not to gape like a doofus. Naturally, he's not very successful in that endeavor. "I'm... pretty sure that's a feat not even I can manage," he said finally, holding his hands up in surrender. Knowing him, he'd try to be smooth and just embarrass himself, so he resolved to refrain from trying to indulge.

"Man, you're really serious about the whole 'for better or for worse' thing, aren't you?" Harry gave a playfully horrified look at the prospect of being subjected to more meatloaf. "Maybe I can negotiate some new recipes with her. I think she'd be mad if I tried to improve her meatloaf." He laughed lightly into his knuckles. "--Well, I don't see why I can't be one of those things you're doing today," he blurted, because his brain-to-mouth filter only ever works some of the time. It's probably physically impossible to be any more red at this point; he could almost be the Human Torch with all the heat he's radiating. He lacked the confidence to back up his talk, so he got worked up instead. He tries to alleviate some of his embarrassment with a cheeky, "Aren't I always too much of an ass, anyway?"

And if that wasn't the most beautiful thing Harry'd heard in a long time, he didn't know what was. He leaned into the trail of kisses some before turning his head to be able to look at Peter, half-bopping his cheek against Peter's forehead. "That's beautiful, Pete," he echoed his thoughts with a smile that resonated earnest warmth and joy. "I really do love you-- more than the sun." And it felt so good to be able to say it out loud, without fear or hesitation-- like a heavy weight lifted off his heart and shoulders.

"Yeah, well, I guess that makes us even," Harry countered, happily obliging Peter by slowly and affectionately working his fingers through his hair. "But it's probably for the best. You can't marry a mirror." A beat. "I think." Which is followed up by a quick addition of: "We're not betting on it." Harry's not so naive as to think he doesn't still lose 95% of those, because - again - Peter is still Peter.

Date: 2016-10-13 03:54 am (UTC)
goblinjr: (Default)
From: [personal profile] goblinjr
"Me? We both know I'm not the ornery one here. You are, almighty King of the Shitheads." Which was always Harry's answer to deflect from the fact that he could be just as much of a shit when he wanted to be. Peter was still the king, though. No one could take that crown from him. "I meant, I'm pretty sure you're the only person who thinks being dumb doesn't suit me. Smartass." He snorted, tilting his head in to add to his own raised brow. "Exotic? Really? I could barely get regular people to like me." He pauses to laugh. "Or are you calling yourself exotic? What with the--" It struck Harry suddenly that he didn't know if - in whatever reality this was - whether or not Peter was still Spider-Man. Or if he ever was, for that matter. Maybe he'd better not say anything about it. He scrambled to quickly come up with a different direction to go in. "--uh. Wild, crazy hair you've got? It's almost like a jungle from another country."

That look isn't tempting him any less, either. They probably had plenty of sweaty palms and embarrassing (but cute) nose bonking going on. "Okay, but there's a challenge... and then there's impossible. I don't think there's ever been a time where you haven't run your mouth," Harry countered with a teasing smile. He even brought a fist to his chin in thought to complete the whole thing. "Huh. Have you ever even been stunned into silence before?"

"Oh, come on! Hey! You're twisting my words-- that's not fair! ...You've already got a whole filing cabinet of things to hold over my head. You don't need any more." Harry's trying to pout, but damn if he can't stop smiling. Peter's follow-up remark - paired with the none too subtle look-over - only makes it worse and more obvious, even for all that Harry ducked his head and partially hid his face behind a hand. His grin practically went from ear to ear and for the umpteenth time, he cycled back around to the thought: I've gotta be dreaming. "No wonder you never get any work done," he half-mumbled. Because for as embarrassing and awkward as he could be, Harry knew himself well enough to know that he'd probably try and monopolize on that whenever he could. In fact, he could just about bet that it was one of his many tactics when Peter got into workaholic mode and started staying up too late.

Harry could also bet with twice as much certainty that Peter's already dangerous levels of influence over him reached ridiculous levels once they became a couple, which inspires his next answer: "Well, that and... I've gotta level the playing field somehow or I'd just be puddle of melted goo around you all the time."

True to form, he started to roll his eyes, fully expecting that scientific tirade, only for his exasperation to quickly evaporate into nothing once Peter pecked his cheek. Whatever snark that was waiting on the edge of his tongue left with it as Peter continued, leaving Harry perfectly, completely, and blissfully in awe. He didn't think his heart could possibly swell any more, and a joyful little laugh escaped him. For a moment, all he could do was turn enough so that he can properly bump his forehead against Peter's and hold him for a minute. Relish in how good it feels to hear those words in Peter's voice. "I never thought I'd be able to hear you say that," he said, and every bit of marvel that sprang through his heart and eyes reached his voice too. He almost forgot himself again and quickly corrected the statement. "I mean--... I used to. Even though we're best friends. You're like... way out of my league."

He's trying awfully hard not to laugh, but Peter's happiness is contagious and Harry is entirely too taken with the way he buries his laughter against his shoulder. "Stop!" he insisted amid a laugh of his own, giving Peter's hair a gentle and playful tug. "You do not need another one. The million you probably already have is enough! I need a collection of you losing bets. That's what needs to happen."

Date: 2016-10-13 08:03 am (UTC)
goblinjr: (➥ That didn't go as planned.)
From: [personal profile] goblinjr
"What? The consort? Geez, you could at least try to be creative and not insult me. Like... why can't I be your really good-looking knight that you sneak off with when no one's looking?" Harry at least has the dogged loyalty part of being a knight down. It could work? Just imagine a knighted Harry following King Peter around like a puppy and there you go. Poor Peter, because by that point, everyone probably knows why. "Oh, c'mon. We all know you have--" Harry glanced towards the mirror if only just to humor Peter, immediately cut off the sight of the mess of curls strewn every which way. "--Oh. Yikes," was his only interjection, followed by a half-hearted attempt to reach up and flatten the poof down.

"Oh, gee, Peter. What a horrible predicament I'm in." Harry couldn't manage to sound as sassy as he wanted to when Peter was standing there, proudly putting his wedding ring on display. His heart was too busy soaring to even pretend to be salty. "Being married to some jerk I love more than anything for the rest of my life? You're right, this stinks."

Adorable and 100% dorky, just like them. Something to look back on fondly with plenty of facepalms and laughter. Whatever semblance of self-control Harry thought he was finally getting back - for however brief a moment - promptly went back out the window. "Peter!" Both hands slapped over Harry's face this time, like maybe it would somehow alleviate the astronomic levels of fluster Peter just caused. Pretty sure that was a muffled, 'oh my god' somewhere in there, too. If he turns any more red, he might actually pass out. To echo his thoughts, he pointed out, "I can't cook you breakfast if I'm unconscious. Remember that, will you?"

"Or you could be a little more merciful." But they both knew that wasn't happening. And like everything else Peter kept bringing up, Harry - of course - did not remember, but found himself curious all the same. "What, like you wouldn't?" It's more curious than it is indignant, because Harry could secretly buy that he wouldn't be able to hold out long. He had to laugh a little to himself, though. "Geez, you make it sound like I'm so high-maintenance..."

"Alright, fine! I'm always a puddle of goo around you."

All the more reason for Harry to enjoy it while he could. If large pieces of the past weren't lost to him, he'd probably even fall into it and let himself forget that this wasn't reality. They seemed so happy; it was intoxicating. And being this close to Peter made it easy to forget whatever worries had ailed him before. It's a little less bashfully that he accepts the shows of affection and decides to return them with some of his own. He rests his hands on Peter's shoulders at first until they're trailing down his arms, curious, memorizing the muscle. "'Cause you are, Mr. Super-Genius. You can't keep throwing the GQ thing at me."

He tipped his chin back with another laugh, trying not to shake his head too much in disbelief. "I made a pig fly once! Don't be so sure!" And speaking of flying pigs, Harry couldn't help but wonder-- was Bethany here with them? ...Imagine all the confusion it would cause when Harry prattled on about their little Bethany and it turned out to be a pig instead of a child.

Date: 2016-10-14 02:59 pm (UTC)
goblinjr: (➥ So many paths we can take.)
From: [personal profile] goblinjr
"Because you never hear stories about heroic consorts, Peter," Harry complained, until-- "Wait. Gorgeous?" Another goofy grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, because while it felt natural to tease and joke, he wasn't nearly as used to being called gorgeous. "Guess I can't complain about that." Peter would make an adorable king. Probably completely unorthodox and throwing wrenches in all the "proper" ways to do things in favor of doing things that actually work. Plus, they'd be class swapped for once. You know Harry probably has loads of fun calling Peter to his office for all kinds of bogus reasons. Just because he can. 'Your make-out quota isn't being met, Peter! We need to fix this immediately.' "You're seriously into my monster curls?" he prodded, but relented in trying to pat his hair down in favor of wrapping his hand around Peter's and leaning his cheek against the knuckles.

"You say that like I'd have chosen to be anywhere else, even if we weren't a couple." And that was true regardless of the reality they were in. "Besides, who else could put up with you? I wouldn't wanna subject some poor innocent person to your crap. They'd probably lose their marbles."

Oh, no. Don't act all innocent, Peter. The endearing little kiss might have been more soothing if Peter didn't insist on continuing. Harry practically sputtered, only cracking open his fingers enough to glare at Peter from between them. "That's not what I meant and you know it!" He attempted to bump Peter away from him with his shoulder, refusing to take his hands away from his face-- as if it wasn't already glaringly obvious how red he was or how much he was trying not to grin or laugh or anything that might be encouraging. "Stop it, already!"

At least Harry was already so red that it didn't matter that Peter pulling them even closer together got him flustered all over again. He worried the inside of his bottom lip for a moment. ...Right now, he could probably win, he thinks. After all, he hasn't slept with him. Therefore, in theory, he doesn't really know what he's missing. Ignoring the fact that he's burning with curiosity, Harry totally has a recipe for victory. Right? Definitely no way he could lose. And... it's that folly in thought that makes him actually consider betting Peter, if only to wipe that smug look off his face. "Distracting yourself?" A scoff. "No, I bet you'd just cheat by dangling yourself in front of me so I would lose." Is he right or is he right?" A disbelieving laugh escaped him. "I am not high-maintenance! You can't butter me up on that one. Take it back."

"Keep dreaming, pal. It's not gonna happen." He sounds distracted-- and he is. Now that he's actually let himself slow down a little bit and really take in how Peter looks, how he feels under his fingertips without having to immediately swallow down his feelings... It's a little entrancing. He notices the little changes in Peter's physique, too. Harry's always tried not too study him too much, but sometimes, you just pick up the details without even realizing when something's that interesting, that important to you. His hands have wandered back up Peter's arms and over his shoulders until they're trailing across his collarbone and down his sides. He's a little shy about it, but ever curious.

"All those Norse myths ended up being real, right? I mean, we've got the God of Thunder running around somewhere. I'm pretty sure I could find a tooth fairy."

Date: 2016-10-17 05:19 am (UTC)
goblinjr: (➥ Turn up the corners of your lips.)
From: [personal profile] goblinjr
Honestly, Harry can't remember the last time he smiled this bright either-- but here he is, beaming with joy. Sure, they'd always had high opinions of each other and made remarks about each others' looks, but this... was way different. It came from a place of love, where Peter was actually attracted to him. How could he not be entirely warmed by that? "Geez, Pete. You better watch out or you're gonna give me a big ego," was all he could think to say as he ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck with a laugh. That's the real reason Harry's always following him around, obviously. He's the one who has to whisper manners and reminders at him. That's the wrong fork, Your Highness. You're supposed to bow when greeting this person, Your Highness. Naggity nag nag. Knowing Harry, he probably did go out of his way to ambush him. Anybody being trained for the janitorial job is probably instructed just to avoid that closet until everybody goes home. Nobody questions it. "You're adorable," he countered, matching Peter's fond smile with one of his own.

"What d'you mean? I already do." Harry thinks he's so smooth. "It means that I'm the greatest, most amazing best friend on the planet." But he's really just so full of shit.

There's some muffled grumbling in response - who even knows what Harry said, especially when it's largely cut off by laughter. "No! Lemme go!" he cries with a laugh, only half-heartedly trying to wrestle away. Peter does succeed in getting his hands away from his face a little, though. "Only 'cause you go out of your way to make fun of me. I'd hope by that point you finally ran out of things to tease me with." But they never would. They both just kept giving each other more ammunition the longer they were friends. "You're the worst." But he means it fondly.

He's already having a hell of a time not wondering, especially when Peter continues to sidle up into his personal space in naught but his underwear, talking freely about the intimate details of their life. "I--! That is not true. I have better self-control than that!" he tries to insist. "I've managed to keep my hands to myself when I wasn't sure how you felt about me! And there were a lot of times I wanted to kiss you. I think that deserves a medal." With all of his damn pining. Oh, Harry wouldn't stand a chance. And eventually, he - or a Harry that was more comfortable and confident, at least - would get so desperate determined to win that he'd probably start going out of his way to appeal to Peter until he's all but sauntering around their apartment naked. "We did not." Not that Harry would know, seeing as he couldn't remember any of it, but it's in his nature to argue. "I am not that bad! Come off it!"

"You could make it happen? ...Uh-huh. How?" Harry almost doesn't hear Peter's answer to their asinine little argument about making bets, swept up in Peter and the fingers running along his waist. "Huh--?" It takes a minute for the words to sink in, and the way Peter said them. There's no recognition in them. Did Thor not exist here? And that, of course, causes a chain reaction of wondering what else was different about this reality. Maybe Peter wasn't Spider-Man here. It'd explain why he looked so much happier and healthier. In light of that hunch, Harry scrambled to come up with a response. "I mean-- what, you don't think I could pull that off? Look, I'm all manly and full of muscles!" At which Harry pulled his hands away from their wandering fascination with Peter's body long enough to playfully flex his muscles in over-the-top fashion. "Just gimme a hammer, and we're golden!"

Date: 2016-11-24 11:20 pm (UTC)
goblinjr: (➥ (peter) I could set you free.)
From: [personal profile] goblinjr
"What-- I am not! Since when have I ever had a big ego?" It's said out of reflex, but Harry has to - in delayed fashion - wonder how much is different for him in this reality, too. For all he knew, things had been happier for him as well. Maybe he did have huge reserves of self-confidence here. What a thought. He'd pry for details, but he doesn't dare break the illusion. He's much too drawn in.

No wrinkled nose, eye-rolling, or smartass remark? Wow. If Harry looks both pleased and surprised, it's because he definitely is. "I'm no good at statistics. All I know is that you're a pain in the ass and I'm a professional at dealing with you." As if that doesn't apply to them in the reverse, either. It's a mutual trial of being able to put up with each other.

"I think that was supposed to be more metaphorical. Not literal, Pete." He laughs a little, because once his hands are fully pulled away from his face, their foreheads bonk together. "--I guess I can't really argue when I'm over here burning up." The heat is practically radiating off his face, and even more so with Peter weaseling in so close to him. He sort of just lets his hands rest on the sides of Peter's face after a moment, thumbs brushing over his jaw. Harry wouldn't admit it, but it doesn't sound so bad at all. They'd never be bored with each other, at least, with all their antics. "What's with all the music jokes this morning?" As for changing his tune, well-- he can imagine. Judging by Peter's account of the whole thing, he was apparently very vocal about his approval. At this rate, he's never going to ease back into a normal color. "And anyway, you can be the best and still be the worst. It's a talent you excel in, bud." It's been true for the duration of their friendship, and he's positive it's true for their marriage, too.

"All... the time?" It sounds weak even to Harry. He's got Chronic Foot-in-Mouth Syndrome. He's been known to throw actual temper tantrums when he's really upset. Self-control and Harry Osborn don't get along too well. It's just that... he cared more about his friendship with Peter than trying to be with him, enough that it enforced self-control. Now that he doesn't have to... Well. Good-bye, self-control. He'll still try out of respect, but after a while, he'll realize it's pointless. At the moment, there's still some niggling feeling that he's taking advantage somehow keeping him in check, so he laughs and his gaze dodges floorward. "You're pretty irresistible, it's true-- but you're also over-confident. What's the saying... there's a fine line between brilliance and over-confidence?" Indeed, it makes his heart ache a little. They do alright, sure-- but Peter's always carrying so much loss and pain with him that it's bittersweet to see him so carefree here. More because this... probably isn't real, and more than anything, Harry wants to keep seeing his smile and laugh so pure and happy. So interesting. What would even win? Harry's ridiculously stubborn nature or his attraction to Peter? Either way, he'd probably get so cranky after a while that he'd become insufferable. (Or really funny, depending on how much of a jerk Peter feels like being.) "You're making that up. That never happened!" He's in denial that he's that much of a pain in the rear.

"You know people? Whoa... But that would mean you'd have to've left your nerd hubs at some point! You're stretching reality a little bit with that one." A surprised sound escapes him, but he relaxes slowly into the arms around his waist, returning the embrace with such care. It's so foreign to him, this intimacy with Peter, that he can't help it. It's with some well-meaning hesitance that he relents and lays his head against Peter's with a contented smile, lightly running his fingers against the back of the other man's neck. "Yeah, don't worry-- I don't think I could pull that off either," he answers with a laugh of his own. What he's got now is as long as it goes and even that is hard to manage some days. How some women can endure curly hair that's any longer than this is a mystery to him.

Date: 2016-12-10 04:31 am (UTC)
goblinjr: (➥ (peter) I could set you free.)
From: [personal profile] goblinjr
"Mistake, huh? Yeah, I guess that's a pretty dangerous move. I mean, I've gotta be the luckiest guy in the world to end up with you. That is pretty ego-inflating." Nope. There is nothing smooth about Harry Osborn, no matter how hard he tries, and oh, he's tried. Hell, he's trying right now, and instead of exceptionally smooth it's more... exceptionally cheesy.

If you keep Harry at this level of blushing, Peter, he might eventually pass out, you know. "God-- will you stop?" he insists with a laugh, tilting his chin to the side and away from their touching foreheads. Since hiding his face in his hands is no longer an option, he just kind of ends up resting his forehead against Peter's shoulder instead. That's where he intends to keep it until his face feels significantly less like an oven. "Well, someone has to. Spares the rest of the city from having to put up with you."

"I can, but I guess I won't." Peter nestling closer to him, encouraging the hands on his face-- every bit warm and loving. For the hundredth time, Harry feels like putty in Peter's arms. He hasn't really had the privilege of being this close to Peter before, where their noses are nearly touching and their breath starts to mingle. He can see all the color in Peter's eyes, clear as day. For the hundredth time, his curiosity beckons him before his brain can give permission, and he's studying Peter all over again with his fingers. This time, he's tracing his fingertips over his cheekbones, then down and over the corners of his lips. Perfectly in awe of him. Enough that he barely reacts when Peter teases him. He just chuckles quietly. "Yeah, well. You were always good at making the impossible possible. Don't doubt it, pal."

When you're as important to Harry as Peter is, he has a way of doing that. He's not sure what this is, but after ages of repressing his feelings, there's going to be some plentiful hesitation at letting go of his inhibitions. He does tip his chin into the touch, though, closing his eyes for a moment with a smile. "--No. I'm crazy about you, Pete. Always will be." He only opens his eyes to squint at Peter with a lopsided grin. "I haven't blocked anything out of my memory! I'm just saying, I think you're embellishing."

"And by consequences, do you mean... earning the ire of all the rich and powerful people in New York by associating with you? Cause the only social interaction I've seen you make is pissing them off." A tiny shiver travels up Harry's spine once Peter's lips touch his neck, and he can't help but tilt his head back a bit for him, a delighted little sigh of his own escaping past his lips. Encouraged, he keeps lightly trailing his fingers along the back of Peter's neck, periodically wandering down his back a bit to weave over the bumps of his spine. "Oh, geez. Would I have to wear the helmet and cape and everything?"

Date: 2017-02-21 05:19 am (UTC)
goblinjr: (➥ So many paths we can take.)
From: [personal profile] goblinjr
That'd be some kind of stunt Harry would pull if he knew Peter wouldn't get upset over it-- pretending to pass out only to secure a kiss when Peter tried to give him CPR. As worried as Peter gets about his loved ones, especially these days, Harry's not sure he wants to test how much trouble he'd get in for that. But then... things are very, very different here, aren't they? ...Wherever they are. Harry finds himself caring less and less about the answer to that, wrapped up in Peter's arms with an affectionate kiss pressed against the side of his head. If this is some kind of dream, then God, just let him keep dreaming.

There's almost a falter when it registers that Peter's studying him in turn. Crap. Is he being too overt? He doesn't mean to, but it's hard not to get swept up in all the little things he's tried not to indulge in mulling over. Should he say something? Or maybe--

But just as Harry starts to scramble for an excuse, Peter catches him completely off guard with a kiss. Not just the gentle, adoring pecks that have been dotted along his neck and shoulders throughout the morning. No-- Peter's lips are suddenly against his, every bit warm and sincere. For a moment, Harry's so sure his heart's leaped high enough to burst from his chest. On Harry's list of things he specifically tried not to think about for the sake of his sanity, kissing Peter was high on the list. Why humor something he can't have? But now, here they are, and Harry surprises himself by how easily, how eagerly he reciprocates it. Suffice it to say, morning breath is the last thing on Harry's mind. Absentmindedly, he even chases after Peter's lips and the tease of his tongue some when the other man pulls back before he catches himself. Whatever sarcastic reply he might have articulated for that comment is long gone, and all Peter gets in response is the dizziest and most delighted of smiles.

You can call him a dork all you want if you keep kissing him like that, Peter.

"Whoa, hey, no need to get personal," Harry insists. It's clear Peter's only teasing him, but it's probably true. If the guy really wanted to, he could just about see Peter swinging it. "But the helmet looks so dorky!" A cape could look dashing if you wore it the right way, but a big helmet with wings on it? Ew. Harry's fashion sense is tingling.

"Hm?" Leaving? What were they leaving for? Making note to try and dig around for it in a calendar or a planner or something later, Harry tries not to look too confused about it. He's probably already toeing the line on acting suspicious. As it is, he's reluctant to let Peter wander too far from him now; he was just getting used to being so close with him. "--You sure? Can I take back what I said? 'Cause I could kinda go for some more cuddling." It'd be more of a joke if he weren't so serious.

Date: 2017-03-13 10:08 am (UTC)
goblinjr: (➥ Where broken hearts mend.)
From: [personal profile] goblinjr
Yeah-- a very fine reason not to pull a prank like that. Harry has enough tact to know better, at least. As for the answers... well. He can't say he's exactly gonna be looking too hard to find them. The other options never even crossed his mind. Sure, it's pretty weird, but it's been nothing but a good kind of weird so far. That's not so bad, right?

That dopey star-struck look is going to be glued to Harry's face all day at this rate and that Peter seems endeared by it is ever encouraging. Harry could probably stand to be less openly awed, but then, he's always been the kind of guy who wears his heart on his sleeve. That's not to say he can't be annoyingly good at hiding things, but it usually takes a lot more effort and a solid reason. He's lacking both right at the moment, especially when Peter leans in to steal another kiss. It certainly feels real. Somewhere in the back of Harry's mind, he knows there's something odd about that. About how very convincing all of this is, right down to the sensation of Peter's lips against his. It ends up buried under his preoccupation with everything else.

"They do?" It's a little silly to be delighted by the idea that the public finds them charming, but for a couple of guys who never really fit in, it's pretty nice. With the way Harry longs for positive attention, it can't be helped. "I mean-- of course they do. Cutest couple in New York, right?" A faux-offended scoff escapes him just then. "Hey! Who are you calling dorky looking?"

Maybe Harry would be more sympathetic if the idea of him and Peter sharing a life together didn't still have him completely over the moon. It's completely ridiculous, really-- even the smallest of things - their bills and that look he's getting from Peter right now - have him smiling. And then Peter starts talking about the trip in detail, and it doesn't take all that long for it to click. An anniversary trip? That's gotta be it. How long has it been for them? He can't help but wonder, but he reels his mind in from wandering enough to remark back, "Well, if I don't make you take a vacation, who will?"

And he's not even the least bit apologetic when Peter indulges him in his request. Flustered, however? Oh, yes. He ends up tumbling forward with Peter when he falls back against the bed, a tangle of limbs as his cheeks heat up and his ears burn all over again. He tries not to linger much, suddenly very aware of how little clothing there actually is between them. Eventually, however, he nestles into a comfortable spot at Peter's side, where he rests his cheek against Peter's chest.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Harry teases. It's always been a thing of his to go overboard for his loved ones. Ramp that up by ten when he's in love, and there's a recipe for completely absurd and over-the-top gifts. "--But if I did, I would say that I'm never in any shortage of great ideas."

Date: 2017-05-04 05:17 am (UTC)
goblinjr: (➥ Good night and sweet dreams.)
From: [personal profile] goblinjr
Kind of has a way of blasting any skepticism into smithereens, doesn't it? Usually, Harry tries not to think too much about it. It's hard enough trying to live a relatively normal life without monsters and supervillains and whatever else storming in. At least - from the small amount Harry knows about this world thus far, that is - there doesn't seem to be a lot of chaos. Just... peace and happiness.

It's nice.

"What?" Harry laughs, squeezing Peter's hand as he pulls it close. They've been holding hands off and on throughout the morning, but he still finds himself entranced by it. By all the simple things-- like mapping out how their hands fit together and trailing his fingers along Peter's. It's a bit funny, perhaps, how marveling and exploring is all he's been able to do once he finally began to relax. He's so taken by his simple but very sincere curiosity. "Why would someone print that to be obnoxious? That guy's brand of obnoxious is like... straight-up slander and suffocating the entire Bugle building with cigar smoke. I've never heard him call anyone cute, even as a joke." He tilts his head up to properly meet Peter's eyes with a smug little grin tugging at his lips.

"Much of a sleazeball as that guy can be, I think even he has to appreciate a Grade A shithead that's simultaneously the hardest working nerd on the planet. You've done a lot for the Bugle." --Probably? Unless Peter never worked for him here. What a headache.

"Why--? I repeat, hardest working nerd on the planet." Apart from the fact that Harry apparently can't keep his hands off his husband long enough for said husband to get any real work done. It's not incredibly difficult to see why when they're wrapped up in each other like this. You hear, "I could stay like this forever," from couples in love stories, and you kind of roll your eyes at how corny it sounds until you're swept up in the arms of someone you love. For all that Harry pretends not to be a sap, he's nothing but and it shows in the way he's reduced into a contented glorified blanket against Peter.

All Peter's last comment gets in a lazy rumble in response. Harry's far too wrapped up in all the little things again, savoring the closeness between them and the warmth of Peter's palms roving lazily against his shoulder and back. Doesn't dare close his eyes for fear of finding it all gone when he opens them again. No-- he merely watches the soft rise and fall of Peter's chest, letting his fingers idly wander with it.

"You can just skip the agenda for today, right, pal?" he half-mumbles, smiling to himself because he's too comfortable to manage even the few inches it would require to tilt his head back and smile at Peter instead. "'Cause I'm... really okay with staying like this all day."

And all tomorrow. And... probably the day after that, too.

Date: 2017-08-08 01:51 am (UTC)
goblinjr: (➥ That's what friends are for.)
From: [personal profile] goblinjr
They could both stand to get away from the chaos a little, couldn't they? Harry thinks so, anyway. They're always so stressed out, the both of them. Even when they're just hanging out, there's hints of exhaustion in their faces, their body language... and a lingering sense of dreariness over how frenetic and grief-ridden their lives have become. Things were easier in high school, before... everything else happened. Harry never thought he'd say that, but boy, what he wouldn't give to go back to a time when his only worries were trying to graduate and not pissing his dad off. Now, so many innocent lives have been lost, his dad's crazy, he has a whole company to run, and now some lunatic is trying to murder him and Peter--

The stark reminder of how awful things have gotten for them both just beckons Harry to retreat further into... whatever this is. With some fretful determination, he buries his face further against Peter's neck as if to drown out that reality. It feels real enough to convince him for the time being. Or rather, real enough for Harry to convince himself. This - curled up in bed with a Peter Parker that's his husband, that's happy - is an easier reality to swallow than the maelstrom of stress and heartache he's been living, after all.

It doesn't occur to him how desperately he's been clutching Peter's hand for the past couple of moments until it's probably too late to pass it off as nothing, but he tries anyway. Tries to will himself to relax and relish in this bizarre slice of bliss he's been offered.

Opting to focus on their conversation instead, Harry grumbles, "He does he pretty good job of it." Dream or not, there's no reality where he can imagine that Jameson has ever been nice to him. Or anybody, really. Guy's a jerk to his own wife, for crying out loud. He only wishes he could have seen and heard that closest-approximation-to-an-apology himself. "Whatever, Pete-- your pictures were anything but lousy." And there's certainly no reality where Peter doesn't have a good eye for photography. Hell, their room is a monument of it. About the time he peers up from the pillow he's made out of Peter to let his eyes rove over the pictures one more time, he's greeted with a kiss to the forehead.

Even better.

Just like that, there's a dopey grin spreading across his face again, and his dreary thoughts about reality seem to drift away. A dopey grin that only turns fondly exasperated once Peter continues on to declare his love for science. "God, you are such a nerd, you know that?" He snorts back at Peter, his grin going crooked. "Gee, I'm up there with science now? What an honor. Didn't think you loved anything more than science.

"Ah, well. Can't blame me for trying," Harry remarks with a laugh, which tapers off into nothing more than a weak little breath once Peter presses his lips against his ear. At Peter's reassurance, Harry pauses, his curiosity wandering back to this trip of theirs. He carefully shifts until he can look at Peter more fully without moving either of them around too much. "So--" Where are we going? he wants to ask, until he remembers that he apparently planned the trip. That wouldn't fly. Searching for a way to broach the subject as inconspicuously as possible, Harry ends up loosening his hand from Peter's to idly trace lines along his chest while he grasps for words.

"Uh-- there's gotta be something you're looking forward to, right? Y'know, places you wanna take pictures of or whatever, being the shutterbug you are."

At this point, Harry knows himself well enough to know that he probably went out of his way to find a place he could convince Peter to enjoy in a concerted effort to get him to grumble less about having to leave home.

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Peter Parker's Musebox

December 2016

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