"If I'm the King, does that make you the consort?" Peter never said he'd play fair. And yes, Harry is absolutely a shit. Peter is starting to think he takes pleasure in making Peter late for work, actually. The fact that Harry can alter the timecards any way he pleases doesn't mitigate Peter's embarrassment at walking into the lab late, a fact Harry conveniently forgets. "Excuse me? You really think my hair is exotic? Please, go gaze upon your visage in the mirror this morning. I'm barely resisting from calling Crocodile Dundee."
"You could get anyone you wanted to, you idiot, but you've stuck yourself with me," Peter wiggled his left hand at Harry, ring shining in the morning light flooding the window. "No take-backs. I didn't come with a receipt, your mistake."
Oh god, the first kiss was a nightmare. All awkward angles and Peter's glasses were crooked on his face to begin with, so - it was perfect, in its own right. "Kinda hard to run my mouth when there's something in it, buddy." Aaaand there it is. Yahtzee. "Don't flatter yourself, Harold, that's my job."
"Well stop handing them out like candy!" Peter snickered, shaking his head as Harry tried to pull a pout from the edges of his smile. It really wasn't working, poor thing. "If I moved it to every other day, I'm pretty sure you'd die. You remember the No Shave November incident." Oh, absolutely. Peter was only barely capable of ignoring Harry, and it certainly couldn't last forever.
"Are you trying to tell me you're not a puddle of goo, because have I got some news for you - "
It really is some ideal, alternate reality. Could this - them, together - ever exist in Harry's world? It just seemed way too good to be true. Peter laughed again, bumping his nose softly against Harry's, arms wrapped comfortably around his hips. "You honestly believe I'm out of your league, and I gotta say, it's still cute as hell. No, Harry, if anyone's in a different league it is definitely you, Mr. GQ."
"But I'm making a photo album!" Peter shook his head, pressing his face into Harry's neck instead. "Better chance of a real tooth fairy appearing than me losing a bet to you, babe."
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"You could get anyone you wanted to, you idiot, but you've stuck yourself with me," Peter wiggled his left hand at Harry, ring shining in the morning light flooding the window. "No take-backs. I didn't come with a receipt, your mistake."
Oh god, the first kiss was a nightmare. All awkward angles and Peter's glasses were crooked on his face to begin with, so - it was perfect, in its own right. "Kinda hard to run my mouth when there's something in it, buddy." Aaaand there it is. Yahtzee. "Don't flatter yourself, Harold, that's my job."
"Well stop handing them out like candy!" Peter snickered, shaking his head as Harry tried to pull a pout from the edges of his smile. It really wasn't working, poor thing. "If I moved it to every other day, I'm pretty sure you'd die. You remember the No Shave November incident." Oh, absolutely. Peter was only barely capable of ignoring Harry, and it certainly couldn't last forever.
"Are you trying to tell me you're not a puddle of goo, because have I got some news for you - "
It really is some ideal, alternate reality. Could this - them, together - ever exist in Harry's world? It just seemed way too good to be true. Peter laughed again, bumping his nose softly against Harry's, arms wrapped comfortably around his hips. "You honestly believe I'm out of your league, and I gotta say, it's still cute as hell. No, Harry, if anyone's in a different league it is definitely you, Mr. GQ."
"But I'm making a photo album!" Peter shook his head, pressing his face into Harry's neck instead. "Better chance of a real tooth fairy appearing than me losing a bet to you, babe."