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Harry would call his name, several times a day - to talk things over, to complain about his scientists being incompetent and to assure him that they would soon take on Spider-man, when he finally showed his ugly bug head again. Electro's fury was not easily contained and he had little patience to offer, but Harry knew that, and more importantly – he understood. Even though Oscorp was still running tests, there were no results, and Harry put all his faith in the blood of the one accidental yet successful experiment.
If nothing else, Max could trust in Harry’s desperation. The sight of the young man slumped in his chair, a frail and small figure in front of the impressive city panorama, the scattered pages of the latest test series on the floor about him, made it easier to push back the anger that never stopped boiling in his insides.
Soon, he thought, but not now.
Harry called his name at night, when he was still awake, lying on the couch in the vast, cluttered room, where he seemed oddly misplaced between all these grotesque antiquities and accumulated pieces of art. As the carafe on the table beside him emptied, words would pour out of him, laced with frustration and bitterness. Spider-man wasn’t the only name that kept re-occurring, but there was Peter, and the further the night progressed, the stronger was the overbearing presence of his father.
Max did indulge him, for a while. What kept him there was not so much pity, but the simple fact that Harry seemed to greatly appreciate his company. While he was talking, he never seemed to forget Max was there, listening, and kept waiting for an occasional word of reassurance. And even though he was wary, Max couldn’t help but to be drawn to this new sort of appreciation.
Whenever he was around, he could see it in the way the young man would look up from his work and watch him, transfixed, his eyes alight. He could see it in the way his gaze would linger on him when he interrupted his litanies to regard him, silently. There was wonder in his eyes, curiosity, and something else Max couldn’t quite place.
“You keep watching me”, he observed, one evening, when Harry’s eyes were on him again and not on the screen of the touchpad in his lap.
A smile formed on the young man’s lips, as he put his research aside and leaned over the armrest.
“I can’t help it”, he said lightly, but his gaze was intense, and it was still on him. “You are extraordinarily fascinating, Max.”
Electro did not doubt that. Still, he didn’t quite know how to respond.
It was this open display of interest that was keeping Max hooked.
While others always maintained their fearful distance, Harry was drawn to him, both metaphorically and physically. Just like he couldn't keep his eyes off him, he kept approaching him, casually, playing it as a part of making friendly conversation. Yet Max noticed how his gaze was trailing off, distracted by the flashing discharges that lit the plasmic body from within.
Still, things did not fall into place until Harry dropped any pretenses. He drifted off mid-sentence, his hand hovering in the air between them, close enough to feel the static tingling on his fingertips. Eyes darted upwards, questioning, as he apparently remembered the last time he’d tried. Which made it all the more puzzling that he would be so tempted to try again.
“Go ahead”, Max heard himself say, his voice a deep rasp that resonated in the metal frames of the tables.
He watched him, entranced by Harry’s gaze lingering on his black suit and his tongue quickly wetting his lips, as he tentatively reached out, fingers inching closer, closer - Harry jerked slightly as he made contact with the smooth surface of the suit, but Max knew it was out of anticipation more than anything. He wouldn’t get shocked with the suit as isolator between them, not unless Max wanted him to.
Becoming more daring with that realization, Harry’s finger traced a line over his chest, carefully, slowly, up to his neck.
“I can feel it”, he whispered, reverently, “All this energy right beneath my fingertips…” His eyes hit Max with sudden intensity, blue in the faint glow. It made Max feel seen in a way he'd never felt before, yet also strangely at loss for words, and he remained silent.
“And you?" There was Harry’s hand on his wrist, guiding Electro's fingers to his own chest, only protected by a thin layer of fabric. "Can you feel me?”, he asked, softly.
And Electro did. He sensed it without touching him, as his fingers ghosted over Harry’s shirt. There was the resistance of dry skin, flesh and water, and his heart fluttering just beneath it, the electrical impulses faint, but beckoning.
“I wonder what it feels like, to you”, Harry mused, fingers brushing over Electro’s hand, his heart a steady rhythm beneath it. Then, softer, lower, with barely hidden excitement in his voice, “I wonder what you could do to me.”
Flirting had never been Max’ area of expertise, neither anything that might follow.
Then again, all of this was new. And Max was curious.
There was this look on Harry’s face again, an unsated craving, and Max knew what he wanted. He understood this hunger, this need.
He, too, wanted to know what he could do to him.
-
This evening, Electro found himself in Harry’s bedroom – or rather, he presumed, his late father’s, with its heavy curtains and enough wiring behind the dark wood panelling to power several pieces of advanced electronic equipment.
He remembered Harry saying he preferred to sleep on the couch because this room was too depressing.
Now however, the Osborn heir seemed at ease. He casually discarded his shirt by flinging it in the general direction of a chair in the corner, before he laid down on the four-poster bed, propped himself up on one elbow and gestured towards the dreary room. “I thought this might add a nicer touch to our little… experiment.”
Harry sounded eager, his smile displaying an almost boyish kind of excitement, but the glance he gave him was searching.
“What do you say, Max?”
Harry’s skin was strikingly pale against the dark green covers, but not entirely unblemished. There were inflamed marks both on his neck and his torso, signs of the sickness already eating away at him. It didn’t suit him, Max thought. It was not right.
"Let's get to it", he said.
Harry beamed at him.
The first contact was careful, measured. Electro brushed the bare skin with his fingers, and Harry, who’d been holding his breath, suddenly let out a hiss. When Electro stopped, however, Harry was quick to reassure him, “No, it’s fine, it’s fine, go on.”
It seemed like the first small jolts had just caught him unprepared, as he barely flinched when Electro’s fingers trailed over his shoulder up to the curve of his neck. Harry’s breath hitched, but aside from the tremor in his muscles beneath Electro’s touch, he kept still. When Electro’s fingertips circled the nasty wound on the side of the neck however, Harry bit his lip to stifle a pained noise.
“Okay, this is- nice”, Harry said eventually, and Max noticed how he shivered slightly as he drew a breath, “but this isn't all you’ve got, is it?”
His lips spread to a provocative grin. “Come on, Max. There’s really no need to be coy.”
Electro could see it inside of him, the small impulses following his nerve pathways through his limbs and spreading over the middle of his chest, the little sparks all over his brain.
“Let me explore you”, he demanded, “until I know your body inside out. Then you’ll see what I can do.”
There was a moment of hesitation, yet Harry’s eyes were alight again, his lips parted slightly, and Electro knew he’d let him. Before Harry could word an answer however, he cut in.
“Lose your clothes.”
And Harry readily complied.
He was beneath him, all bare and exposed skin, and Electro was very aware of the power surging through his hands, enough to harm, to bruise, to burn. Yet there was no fear in Harry’s eyes, only anticipation, as he settled back on the cushions.
Harry flinched involuntarily, as he always did at the initial touch, yet he closed his eyes and breathed in slowly.
Each prickling shock was rewarded with a shudder, a sharp intake of breath, as Electro slowly guided his hand over Harry’s stomach, entranced with Harry’s soft gasps and sighs. Following his curiosity, Electro pressed his fingers on the delicate skin just beneath Harry's collar bone, causing him to jerk with a surprised whimper. Red marks appeared on the tissue were the fingers had touched it, but Harry pressed his eyes shut again, lost in the sensation.
“Oh, god, this is intense”, he murmured, carefully tracing the irritated spot.
If Max had ever been uncertain about this kind of close intimacy, he didn't remember anymore.
This was not like anything he'd ever felt anxious about, and at the same time strangely familiar. There was electricity coursing through Harry's body, and all of it responded to him.
The thin layer of sweat covering the skin now reduced its resistance so effectively, it might as well be an open invitation. Taking it, Electro delved in.
His left hand brushed Harry’s thigh, closing the circuit momentarily, and without a second thought, Electro pressed it to the skin, finally allowing the current to flow.
Harry’s eyes flew open as he gasped with pain and surprise, mouth open and contorted, desperately bucking his hips that were helplessly trembling beneath the hands on his waist and his thigh, before Electro released him and Harry’s body relaxed into the mattress again.
His chest was heaving and sinking as he needed a moment to recover, but when he looked up at Max, his eyes were oddly clear.
“Max”, he breathed, nothing else, as he put his thin, trembling fingers on Electro’s arm to stay him. He lifted his head and leaned forward until Electro felt the teasing humidity in the breath ghosting over his face. Too taken in by the closeness and the way Harry’s eyelashes covered his eyes as his gaze flickered to Electro’s lips, it took him a moment to realize what Harry was up to.
Even then he remained silent, careful not to move as dry lips brushed his. Harry was holding his breath now as he moved in closer, but when the moist soft inside of his mouth made contact with Electro’s lower lip, he jerked back with a yelp.
Fingers pressed to his mouth, Harry uttered a belated, “Ouch”.
“You shouldn’t do that”, Electro noted, completely aware that this warning was now rather obsolete.
“I noticed.” Harry gave him a half-amused yet half-accusing look, still tonguing the inside of his mouth. “Ow, fuck, that is pretty nasty", he complained, but as his hand moved down from his mouth, he let it trail over his neck, deliberately touching the irritated skin on his collar bone, and he inclined his head with a sigh.
“You know, I think I liked that better.”
There was something devilish in his smirk.
All it took was alternating the intensity of the current to make Harry squirm and shiver, and when his thumbs dug into the sensitive area right below the ribs, Harry moaned in surprise.
His hands reached Harry's hips and he whimpered, his legs trembling as he arched into the touch, and his craving was almost palpable.
Electro was becoming very aware of his own crackling breath. It took him quite an amount of self-control not to break the skin and set Harry's nerves on fire just to hear the noises he’d be making.
Yet something else kept nagging in the back of his head. It was still not enough. If he was to indulge him, to offer his powers to him, his trust, Harry needed to erase his doubt.
Harry was breathing heavily beneath him, as he very carefully placed one hand right in the middle of Harry’s chest. There it was, stronger and faster now, still beckoning and tempting him.
Harry had fallen silent and looked at him now with confused curiosity. “Max, what-…?”
His words ended up as a choked noise. He convulsed under the electric shocks running through his chest, his heart beating erratically beneath Electro's hand, a helpless, desperate jittering. Even though he couldn't scream, his eyes were wide open in panic, but Max held him down, pushing him into the mattress - and suddenly, the throbbing died down and the body beneath his hand went limp. Electro waited, and for a few missing beats, there was nothing but dark silence under his fingers. Then he charged his hands to the right voltage to spark the heart back to life.
Harry drew a few greedy quivering breaths. He was shaking all over, yet either not able to or not daring to move, while Electro’s hand still rested on his chest, sending small impulses to guide his heart back to beating a steady rhythm.
He could see the relief rushing through Harry as he was still able to breathe freely after Electro removed his hand, as if he had expected his heart to immediately fail him again.
There still was a certain wariness in his expression though, and when he managed to speak, Electro noticed the tension in his weak smile.
“Why did you do that? I-…”, he aimed for a lighter tone, yet there was a nervous edge to it, “…I could have died.”
Max recognized the wavering uncertainty in his voice. Just like Spider-man had tried to pretend he wasn’t afraid, while lying through his teeth.
He shouldn’t be scared. If he claimed to be his friend, he should trust him, implicitly.
Sparks crackled on his fingertips as increasingly powerful discharges heated him up from the inside.
“No, Max, wait!”, the words tumbled out of Harry's mouth, imploringly, “Please." He still sounded shaky, yet he held his hand up, not in a gesture of defense now, but reaching out for him.
“Please”, he repeated, this time almost soothingly, and Max froze as Harry’s fingers ghosted over his cheek. “I was just surprised, that’s all. I mean, you wouldn’t let me die”, he added. “You wouldn’t really harm me, unless I wanted you to, of course. Right?”
Before he knew it, the words came out of Max' mouth, searching, questioning, not yet convinced but tempted to believe. “You do trust me?”
Harry laughed as if the question itself was ridiculous. “Of course I do!”, he was quick to respond when he saw Max’ expression. “Why wouldn’t I?”
When Max still hesitated, he took Max’ hands by the wrists to guide them back on his hips and held his gaze, his voice suddenly soft, on the verge of breaking, as he demanded, “Don’t stop.”
Max almost found himself believing.
Harry came apart beneath his fingers, the sweaty skin so vulnerable to Electro's touch. Hoarse moans filled the dim room as he tossed his head back in the pillow, the long bangs of his hair falling into his face in disarray. His seductive cocky demeanor was stripped off, and what Max discovered beneath was more than vulnerability, but something raw and open.
As Harry was twisting on the bedspread, all wordless broken noises, it was in every shiver, in every gasped breath. I need you, I need you.
And it hit right to his core, more so than any of Harry’s appeasing words before. Max couldn’t get enough of it.
He drank it up, pressed his mouth to the wound on Harry’s neck and was rewarded with a half-choked groan. Harry reflexively clung onto him, his hands clutching to Electro’s shoulders, twitching helplessly but unable to let go. Electricity was running through both their veins now, they were connected by the current coursing through Harry's body and Electro's hands.
When Harry fell back on the sheets, panting and shivering, the muscles in his limbs were still trembling from exhaustion and overstimulation. For a while, he said nothing, eyes closed. Max started wondering whether he had fallen unconscious, when Harry finally spoke up.
“Max?”
It was little more than a raspy whisper.
“Yes.”
“Don't leave me", Harry murmured, with this frail, hoarse voice that sounded younger than he was.
And Electro complied. As Harry’s breathing had become slow and even after he’d passed out from exhaustion, Max remained by the bedside, his fingers on Harry’s wrist, the sluggish, constant pulse beating against his fingertips. His eyes were on the slender body, curled up so close to him. He watched him shiver in his sleep, taking in the pattern of the faint red marks on his torso, his collarbone, beneath his ribs, and the reddened skin around his lips, and he memorized them until they paled and faded in the early morning hours.
Only the burns on his chest and on his thigh remained flaming red.
They looked good on him, Max thought.
-
The next day, there were reddened welts on Harry's pale wrist, Electro's fingerprints, clearly visible to anyone who bothered noticing. Harry did not even try to hide them, however, instead he'd absentmindedly run his index finger over the sore skin every now and then.
Max also observed Harry pressing his hand to his chest at times, wincing slightly - and with this knowledge came a strong surge of satisfaction. So the burns hadn’t faded yet. As if he'd sensed his thoughts, Harry’s eyes met his and Harry’s lips twitched into a brief smile. Max took it as a promise.
He’d make sure that they would not all fade away.
He was the one Harry begged for, the one who knew him inside and out.
It was only right that Harry's skin should be covered with his marks.