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It’s New Years Eve.
It’s New Years Eve and Peter said he’d be here and there’s only an hour left and Peter said he’d be here. Harry knows he’s not off kissing some girl and he’s probably held up with hero stuff, but the insecurity eats away at him regardless. Especially when he calls and the phone goes to voicemail after the second ring.
He tells himself it’s alright. Drinking and socializing with coworkers (or better put subordinates) isn’t the worst way he could be spending his night.
It sure feels like it though.
He’d wanted to talk to Felicia, but clinging to her all night wouldn’t make him look good. Plus, she was hanging out with her office friends and boyfriend, he didn’t want to interrupt them. They were having a fine enough time without him, why mess it up?
At one point a bright eyed intern comes up to him and starts spouting her ideas. It’s not exactly party talk, but the ideas aren’t bad, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t interested. Just the fact that he’s giving her his attention seems to be making her hyper, she doesn’t seem to be leaving anytime soon. He’s decided who he’ll be spending his evening with.
That is until he looks over her shoulder.
And sees the face of Gwen Stacy.
His eyes widen and his shoulders tense and oh no the intern is looking at me weird. He sees her mouth shaping the words ‘Mr. Osborn?,’ but he can’t hear them. He guiltily excuses himself, only turning back to look at her once he’s reached the restroom. The upset look on her face makes him feel even worse. He didn’t even catch her name. Damn it.
He doesn’t want to stare and risk her eyes wandering over to him, and his stomach is churning, so he wastes no time rushing in the bathroom. The water he splashes on his face helps a little, but not enough.
He waits for a few minutes, and when he hears someone shout ‘ten minutes!’ he figures he should be safe to exit. Most people’s eyes will be locked on one clock or another. Harry slips through the door, but keeps himself near the back of the room, just to be safe.
God why are there so many couples holding hands?
When the crowd starts it’s ritual countdown, he doesn’t even notice until the 30 second mark. He moves his mouth along to the numbers on the off chance someone were to look over, but doesn’t speak them, not having the energy to.
15
When Spider-Man swings through the window, Harry thinks he’s imagining it, like he had been with Gwen. But when he makes his way to the CEO and grabs his shoulder, he knows it’s real.
He came.
10
“Harry, I am so sorry.”
9
“There was this little girl.”
8
“She lost her parents and was freaking out.”
7
“Your phone call scared her. I’m sorry, I couldn’t leave her there.” Peter’s words are frantic, but Harry doesn’t say anything, he just smiles. His hands fiddle with Peter’s mask, lifting it up just above his nose.
3
“I love you.” Harry can’t see his eyes, but his smile says enough.
2
“I love you too.”
1
“Kiss me you idiot.”
Cheers surround them, but it’s white noise when Peter lifts Harry up to his lips. They stay like that for a few minutes, occasionally breaking for air, but essentially living in the moment.
“I wish I could see your face.” Peter looks around, the majority of the Oscorp staff is staring at the wondering 'why the hell is our boss making out with a vigilante dressed as a bug?' He can't blame them, they must look pretty strange.
“Maybe somewhere else?” Harry glances at the window. Peter, taking his signal guides him toward it, wraps an arm snug around his back, and swings out into the night air. It’s gonna be a hellstorm of press tomorrow morning. But for now, swinging through the night sky with the love of his life, Harry can only smile.