Fingers trace your every outline, paint a picture with my hands

[spideyguy]

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.

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[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.

[spideyguy]

Oh, in this world? Harry had everything to do with it. From best friend to much-appreciate rock to so, so much more, they'd been through it all and Peter would honestly say he'd never been happier. Coming from a guy who was pretty sure he'd never be happy again, after everything that had happened so early in his life. It had been bleak, for a while there, but - well, Harry never left his side, and Peter would never be able to express his gratitude - although he definitely tried. At that, Peter laughed again, leaning forward a little into Harry's personal space. "Why yes you are, and don't you forget it."

"Mm, with avocado?" Peter pretended to pout, letting his fingers lace loosely with Harry's. Yeah, this Peter clearly wasn't very shy, simply reaching out and taking what he wanted.

Peter cocked his head to the side at Harry's interjection, mid-stretch. It wasn't unusual for Harry to enjoy the view, but something about that seemed...a little off. Still, Peter was Peter, and it just made him stretch a little further, adding a quiet groan to the end for Harry's benefit. Cough. Peter you asshole. "It's not that bad! Jeez, you make it sound like I'm a human dumpster."

"Hey!" That got a playful swat, as Peter picked up his glasses and squared them on his face. "When we got our joint account I contributed a whopping $800 - " Well, kinda. Does it count if Peter is on your will? And being more or less less of an idiot about money (although common sense and living as lower middle class kept Peter as Peter. He still bought store brand except on the few items Harry threw a fit about. And he thought through every single purchase - and none of his Christmas, Birthday, or Anniversary gifts to Harry were ever bought with anything but what Peter had earned himself).

Peter wasn't exactly helpful, scratching his stomach and wandering into an adjacent door that led to the bathroom, if the slap of his feet on tile was anything to go by. Perhaps the closet was in there? There were no other doors, except to the hallway. Either it was in there, or Harry could follow Peter into the bathroom to pee. Dicey choice.

[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.

[spideyguy]

"You'd think you'd have developed better defenses by now." Peter grinned, raising an eyebrow at Harry. Peter's attitude was...genuinely unprecedented. Well-adjusted, clearly happy and settled in his life now that the nightmare of high school was over. Whatever he was doing with his life, Peter was very content with it.

Harry may in fact have the distinct pleasure of experiencing Peter actually trying instead of his usual obtuseness. "Really, Harry? Pot, meet kettle."

"I pushed you that extra $800 over the top, yeah," He laughed, disappearing into the bathroom. He did his business, flushing before answering. "Hm? Yeah, actually, she called me yesterday, did she already talk to you about Sunday? I'm telling you, we have to get her to come here. I can't eat another meatloaf, I'll die. I'll die, Harry." Peter reappeared, shaking the last bit of water off his hands. "That is, if we still have a kitchen after last night."

Peter had definitely put a lot of time in putting together his contributions to the wall, editing the saturation levels and developing most of them himself. There had been a few trial and errors when they first moved in together - Peter turning the bathroom into a photochem lab, and Harry accidentally ruining all of his pictures by opening the door. Add in the fact that film was expensive - which didn't necessarily matter to Harry but definitely did to Peter - and you had a recipe for their first fight. The makeup for that had been awesome, evidence of which lingered by one of Harry's paintings; a picture of Harry, half buried in the sheets, only the corner of his mouth and wayward curls really visible.

Their wedding was an affair in and of itself. Peter hadn't really wanted a ceremony, but May had absolutely insisted on watching him step up to an altar. Peter may never admit it, but he was glad they'd had one.

"Well, I've got to keep you on your toes." The photos changed every time Peter developed a new batch of photos. Had to keep it fresh. Peter stepped up behind Harry, wrapping his arms loosely around Harry's waist and leaning to rest his chin on Harry's shoulder. "Which one's your favorite?"

[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.

[spideyguy]

"Don't you start," Peter pointed an accusing finger at Harry, lessened by the smile he was obviously trying (and failing) to keep off his face. Oh yeah, Peter's pretty good at that. It's how they ended up in this apartment, rather than a penthouse somewhere (and a lot of other, little battles along the way). He laughs, mussing Harry's hair. "And that look, stop it, Osborn. I have things to do today. Although, as distractions go, you're not too shabby."

That got Peter to raise an eyebrow, smirk curling the edges of his mouth. "I'd say last night you got pretty loud, babe."

"Sunday dinner? Have you still not penciled that into your calendar? It's only been like...jesus, I don't even know. Since forever, you've been coming to these, you dork." Peter crossed his arms, leaning against the doorway. "Radioactive, I'm serious. If I could only get a sample for testing - but it'd probably turn into a green rage monster, so then again, maybe not." Another eyebrow raise, you're getting a lot of these, Harry. "I love your selective memory, truly. Can't remember what we did to the kitchen but I'm sure the shower part is crystal clear."

Peter hummed, kissing Harry's shoulder gently and lolling his head to the side to look at the picture Harry was pointing at. That got a soft huff of a laugh, when he saw which one it was, and Peter's lips moved a little closer to Harry's neck, still on his shoulder. "Mine too. S'why I put it up." There aren't a lot of pictures of Peter on the wall, yes, because he was the photographer, but also because he didn't particularly like putting his face up on the wall. Out of all the pictures Harry took, that day when Peter gave him free reign, that one just took his breath away. It may have looked a little clumsy, but you could tell a lot about a person from the photos they took, and that one told Peter everything he needed to know about his husband.

"Mm, I'd beg to differ," Another kiss, this time on Harry's neck as Peter gets in close. "You're cuter."

[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."

[spideyguy]

"Anything. Don't start anything." Peter warned, though he couldn't help his own smile, reciprocating Harry's. How could he help but smile when Harry's looking at him like that? He never gets tired of it, honestly, though Peter's hard-pressed to say anything about it. He's still Peter, in this weird reality Harry's been dropped into. "You know what look! Don't play dumb. Doesn't suit you."

Oh, it's correct. Cough. Peter just laughed warmly, rubbing his hand back over his neck. "Why don't you shut me up, hm?"

"No, never," Peter laughed and gave Harry a funny look, shifting his weight against the wall. "You're family now, you doofus. And if I have to suffer through the meatloaf, I sure as hell am gonna take you down with me." Peter's still a dick, all in all. "Maybe after breakfast, if you're not too much of an ass. Like I said, I have things to do today, Osborn, and so do you!"

"I take a lot of pictures, so I know that...you don't usually like your own work, you know? You see all the little imperfections that nobody else sees. It's a little off-center, or too underexposed, whatever - and it ruins it a little for you. It's good but it's not the best. That one's my favorite, yeah, because you took it, but because it's your favorite. You don't even see all of the little, usually imaginary imperfections we create in our own work." Peter kissed Harry's neck, working his lips up towards Harry's ear. "You love me so much, it doesn't matter. That's why it's my favorite."

"You've never seen you the way I do," Peter hummed, nuzzling his head against Harry's hand. He's not even jokingly protesting the warm digits, in fact, he's eagerly accepting it.

[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.

[spideyguy]

"You're always doing something, just by being you." After knowing Harry for so many years and, apparently, being married to him, he's not getting away with anything (or, really, he's getting away with everything, it's just mostly by Peter's permission. Mostly.) "I damn well hope I'm the only one who thinks so. You shouldn't be playing dumb with anybody else," Peter raised a teasing eyebrow, running a hand back through his rumpled hair. "Especially nobody in New York. I'd think you'd at least have exotic tastes, babe."

Peter just laughs warmly and shrugs off-handedly, smile shy but still friendly and a bit flirty. Imagine what they must have been like when they first started out this nervous, wonderful thing they have (a downright trainwreck, obviously). "Yeah, but you've always been one for a challenge, Osborn." Hardly the worst one to surmount.

"I'd call it a trial, but it's not the worst. Glad you said that though, because now I have blackmail material until the end of time itself." Peter grins, and it turns into another laugh when Harry blushes. He looks him up and down for a second before, "Well you're always on my to-do list." Harry's red as a tomato, but if Peter thinks it odd, he doesn't say anything. Which, he doesn't think it's odd, it's Harry and Harry has always been an absolute dork when it comes to love, and certain physical expressions thereof. Peter thinks it's adorable. "I knew what I was getting into. Guess I only have myself to blame for that one."

"You sure? Because the sun's kind of the reason we're all here." Peter tilted his face up to kiss Harry's cheek as opposed to launching into some scientific tirade. At least he's learning to compromise. "I love you too, Harry. Each day, a little more, even when I didn't think it was possible to have any more room in my heart."

That just sends Peter into a fit of happy laughter, body shaking against Harry's back. He buries his giggles in Harry's shoulder, hair thick and wild between Harry's fingers. "...you sure? I could use another 'Harry Osborn Loses A Bet' photo for my collection."

[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."

[spideyguy]

"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."

[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.

[spideyguy]

"Why is that insulting? I think it's quite the compliment, gorgeous." Peter snorts and shakes his head. "Because I don't have to sneak off. If I leave my council, people know who I'm going to spend my nights with." Not that Harry wouldn't make a noble and dedicated knight. They're taking this metaphor too far, but imagine Peter in a crown. Royal colors would look good on him. Oh, absolutely. The girls at the lab just loved to tease the shit out of him when he came back from his lunch break with his lab coat rumpled. Peter laughed and caught Harry's hand in his own. "Don't bother, I like a little exotic. Your brand, anyway."

"You laugh, but I'm not convinced you understand the gravity of your own situation." Peter teased, threading his fingers through Harry's. "I'm definitely a jerk. Your jerk. Tough break, babe."

"What?" Peter echoed sweetly, swallowing his snickering. It was just so easy to wind him up! Peter was genuinely enjoying the flustered red splotches decorating Harry's cheeks, and he grinned, leaning in to press a kiss into Harry's hair. "Am I wrong, though? If I can talk while I'm doing that I'm pretty sure I'm doing it wrong - " He allowed himself a small chuckle, smirk still tinging his lips. "If you're unconscious...pretty sure I'm doing it wrong babe. Besides, I think it's only polite for you to cook for me - "

"Where's the fun in that?" Peter snorted and squeezed Harry a little tighter. "Let's not make this into a battle of who can last longer. Pretty sure I'' better at distracting myself, so..." Oh, he'd definitely be dying, but Peter was better at keeping his whining to himself. Most of the time. "You are! Dare I say you're actually worth it, god help me."

"Hardly a super genius, and oh yes I can. I'm holding out for when it inevitably happens and I have an actual GQ cover to frame on the wall." Peter hums, welcoming the touch easily, rolling his head back on his neck. He's perhaps - a bit older? Not by much, though, he's filled out a little. Maybe that's how he would have turned out if not for the bite. Or maybe it's a side effect of actually eating, both are equally plausible.

"If you make the tooth fairy real, the honest to god tooth fairy, I don't even know what your prize will be but I promise it'll be good."

[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."

[spideyguy]

"Gorgeous, beautiful, handsome. Is all of the above an option?" Peter grinned right back at him, enjoying the smile Harry was gracing him with. He would be an absolute mess of a king, really. Never be able to get the mannerisms and stuff down, probably accidentally insult a foreign dignitary or two, Princess Diaries style. Yeah, the supply closet on Peter's floor of the building gets a lot of use. ahem. Sometimes, Peter thinks, Harry just waits in there to ambush him, but hey, if it works it works. "They're adorable, babe." Peter assured, fond smile gracing his lips. He wasn't being sarcastic, and he let his fingers graze Harry's skin gently.

"Mm, I'm sure you'd have some supermodel hanging off you. You're just that incredible," Peter made a face, wrinkling his nose. "And what does that say about you?" Couple of idiots, aren't they?

"But am I wrong?" Peter couldn't help his laugh, pressing his face against Harry's insistently, his own hands moving to tug lightly at Harry's. "Aw, you know I never will. We'll be 80 and you'll still be blushing. Just face the music already." It was cute, okay, and to be honest, this Peter didn't feel any qualms about teasing Harry. They were married, it stood to reason they'd sealed the deal.

Solid logic there, Harry. No way that could blow up in your face. Nope. Nuh uh. Not like you're going to be wondering what you could be having the entire time or anything. Peter raises an eyebrow, head cocking slightly to the side. "I don't have to do a damn thing. You'll drive yourself crazy anyway. Re: No Shave November." And yes, Peter was good at losing himself in his work and if he intentionally did so, force to be reckoned with over there. "You so are and I will not. We almost left that restaurant the other night because they didn't have any available booth seating."

"Totally going to happen. I could make it happen. Watch out, Osborn." Peter definitely doesn't mind the touch, smiling as Harry's hands wander over his chest, his arms. His own hands come to rest on Harry's waist, thumbs brushing his hipbones lightly, and intimate familiarity. "God of thunder? Yeah, I doubt it."

[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!"

[spideyguy]

Those remarks had always been given in the context of raising self-esteem. Despite what either of them may have really thought, they were only permitted by unspoken social contract to only mention them when 'appropriate'. So really, did they ever believe each other before? "You're at capacity babe, can't get any bigger." That's what Harry does best, isn't it? Worrying about Peter? It's a talent, honestly. Most would have gotten completely fed up by now. Yeah, really, they should just keep changes of clothes in there for how often Peter ends up coming out the other end crumpled.

It says something about how deep their love must be that the line works, with barely more than a genuinely happy smile and an only-mildly mocking raise of his brow. "Well, I mean, statistically..."

"But I promised not to," Peter grins, steadfastly refusing to let it up. Especially when Harry was such a fantastic shade of red. "Oh Harry, have I got news for you - " Yes, yes they absolutely would. Living together, being married, and getting into all sorts of ridiculous shenanigans as they did, they both had enough to bury each other. "My, someone's changed their tune from last night."

"Really? Where?" Peter grinned again, clearly not buying it. Perhaps by this point, for him, all of their walls have been broken down. Besides, it's much harder to resist when you know you can have it. "That was then, this is now, as they say. Fortunately, you've been robbed of that innocence, so good luck. You're gonna need it." If Peter is confident about one thing, it's how much his husband loves him. So different from Harry's Peter, constantly drained by the weight of the world on his shoulders and the fear of something terrible just around the corner - and yet, the same. Who Peter could have been. What an interesting battle of wills that would be, huh? "You so are! You pulled the 'Osborn' card, come on. It wasn't even that great a restaurant!"

"I know people! People who owe me favors. I'm magic, dude." The flexing gets a snort, and Peter just lets his hands wrap around Harry's waist, pulling him in a little closer. "I think the long hair would be a bit of a dealbreaker there." Peter laughed and let his forehead drop to Harry's shoulder, a simple gesture. "Full of something alright."

[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.

[spideyguy]

"Since I made the mistake of inflating it," Peter snorted, poking at his husband. Perhaps they had been, but Harry would have to discover that on his own - it certainly wasn't something he would be able to just casually relive with Peter (unless he were exceptionally smooth, which, he's Harry so. Good luck.)

"If it's painful I'm pretty sure we're doing something wrong." Ah, there's the devilish smartassery. "Yeah, you do take to it like a duck to water. Natural ability." Somehow, they manage to balance each other out. Don't ask Peter how it works, it just, blessedly, does.

"Mm, well can you blame me for taking it that way?" Peter hummed, winking at Harry when he finally looked up at him. Peter nudged his face into Harry's hands, happily obliging by moving in closer. "I figured I'd do you a favor and use simple metaphors. Wouldn't want you to strain yourself this early in the day." Peter certainly doesn't mind. Harry's cute when he's all flushed like that, like this hasn't been going on for years at this point (for Peter, it has). But it kind of makes him feel good, thinking he can still elicit reactions like that from his husband. "I dunno, seems like an oxymoron to me. Might want to get your money back on those English credits."

Peter just smiles, not even needing to dignify that with an answer - they both knew that was hardly the case. Maybe back then, when they first...there was a lot of fumbling and mistaken communication between them, because they were awkward and unsure and so very scared of messing it all up. That's a pretty hefty moral compass you've got there, Harry. Whose to say this isn't just a dream? And you're still not letting loose? Peter lets his hand drift up, thumb brushing gently over the curve of Harry's jaw. "Not over-confident. Just confident about you. Don't tell me I need to start second guessing now." That's just the world they live in. Well, the world Harry lives in. Maybe it is real, maybe it isn't. If it is...someone somewhere has a lot of explaining to do. "Don't tell me you've blocked it out of your memory already!"

"You're the one that drags me out! Maybe don't do that if you aren't prepared to suffer the consequences." The surprise is a little odd, but Peter glosses over it, turning his head to press his lips to Harry's throat. He sighs happily at the fingers grazing his neck, just relaxing in their embrace for a moment. "...would like to see you with the hammer, though. Halloween costume, file that away."

[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?"

[spideyguy]

Peter just laughs, entwines their fingers together. Harry's a dork, but he's Peter's dork, and Harry's brand of charm has grown on Peter exponentially. Also, pfft, if Peter could make Harry blush enough that he passed out from lack of blood circulation Peter would be impressed with himself. And then start administering CPR, probably. "Never, Har." Peter snorts and kisses just behind Harry's ear, thumb rubbing gentle circles into Harry's hand. "Well aren't you just a regular public servant."

There's something about the way Harry's touching him that registers as odd in the back of Peter's brain, but only vaguely. He tilts gently into the wandering fingers, eyes searching Harry's face for a long moment. Whatever he finds doesn't seem to alarm him, at least. "Tell that to my vaccination assistants, for the love of God."

Peter grants that admission with a full, on-the-mouth kiss. Okay, maybe he said no to the morning breath but there's only so long Peter can be expected to hold back when Harry is saying sweet things like that to him. Seriously, what's gotten into his husband? He pulls back with a light swipe of his tongue against Harry's bottom lip, thumb resting on Harry's chin. Peter chuckles softly, shaking his head at Harry's futile protests. "You're a total dork, you know that?"

"Hey! How many years have you been dragging me to this crap? I've learned a thing or two. Besides, more people dislike you than me. All I have to do is tell them it'll spite you." Peter teases, shivering pleasantly at the fingers running down his spine. "Absolutely. What do you think this is, second-rate Thor?"

"Come on," Peter tugs at Harry's hand, pulling back just enough to nod to the door. "Let's survey the damage so I can claim my sandwich. I really do have errands to run, especially if we're leaving Monday."

[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.

[spideyguy]

Oh dear God, that's a surefire way to give the poor guy a panic attack and potentially get a broken rib when he really panics and accidentally gives you chest compressions too hard. This Peter...it's hard to say. He certainly seems to be in a much better place in this world. If this is a dream, Harry's certainly got quite the mental picture of Peter as a lover. Scarily convincing, almost. But what other answer is there, really? Besides time vortex? Portal to another dimension?

Peter laughs happily at Harry's smile, unable to resist leaning in just one more time for one last peck (lord, the number of times he's said that to himself and ended up twenty minutes late to something important dear God) before he legitimately does pull away, patting Harry's cheek fondly with the hand holding his chin. The fact that it's so normal for them and Harry's staring at him like he gave him the sun is just plain adorable. Doesn't look like that spark is going anywhere anytime soon.

"Hey, people think we're cute. Just making sure you don't forget it." Peter scolds teasingly, mirth shining in his eyes. "Sounds like it would suit you perfectly, then."

"I've got a lab schedule to set for the week and our bills are due next Wednesday so I've got to get them paid today." Peter levels Harry with a mildly annoyed eyebrow raise (like he's not still going to give in anyway, come on). "The whole trip was your idea, you know. I was fine just doing dinner but noooo, someone decided a week in Upstate New York was a better idea. It's not even like we hit a big number you doofus."

"...but I guess five minutes wouldn't hurt." Peter's already tugging Harry back towards the bed, though, knees hitting the comforter as he let himself fall back onto it. "It is pretty romantic, I'll give you that, but it only makes me worry for how you're going to top yourself. Because I know you'll try."

[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."