"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?"
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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?"