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Peter Parker was officially the lamest person ever.
When Mary Jane had suggested that Peter should tag along with her to a party last minute, Peter realized that he didn't have a costume laying around. So Peter decided that his Spider-Man suit should suffice for the night, and that no one would think he was really the superhero who had been sweeping the nation. Peter was sure other people would disguise themselves as the masked superhero.
Unfortunately, Peter was the only individual clad in a skin tight spider suit. To make matters worse, he literally dressed as himself.
Therefore, Peter was the definition of lame.
♡
It was an hour into the party and Peter was bored. Not like the party was exciting before, but now he had managed to lose Mary Jane in the sea of faceless costumes. Peter wasn't exactly the most sociable person to begin with, but he assumed that since party goers would be in costume, fitting in would be a lot easier.
For the second time tonight, Peter had been proved terribly wrong.
Eventually, Peter gave up all hope of ever finding MJ in the crowd. She had been without a trace for well over an hour now, and Peter had scoped out the entire unfamiliar apartment at least five times.
Luckily, MJ had finally returned Peter's endless texts to let him know she was alright. MJ had also very politely asked Peter to stay on the same grounds for the duration of the party so he could accompany her home if she decided to make bad decisions during the night. Like the good friend he was, Peter obliged, and attempted to prepare himself for the rest of the night.
But Peter really wasn't enjoying himself. The plethora of sweaty, gyrating bodies in one congested space nearly had Peter suffocating from the heat. He decided that enough was enough, and headed to the upstairs study where he had spotted an empty terrace when he was searching for MJ. Peter kept its location in mind, prompting himself that he could head up there and hang out alone for the rest of the night if things got to be too much.
Peter assumed that the small balcony would still be empty on his fourth time passing it, but sadly, someone else was sat on the railing. Peter hesitated to join the stranger, but decided that being alone with one person would be a lot less awkward than standing alone in a crowded room. At least they could both be antisocial if they chose to do so.
So Peter slid open the screen door slowly, eliciting a sharp reaction from the other person on the terrace. Peter's skin flared up when he realized who it was, because the person that he was about to join on the terrace was the only individual who always made him feel better.
It was Harry Osborn dressed as...Harry Osborn.
At least Peter wasn't the only unoriginal loser who dressed as himself, but Harry didn't know that, yet.
"Oh, God, you scared me," Harry said, his eyes still wide.
"Sorry about that," Peter apologized, taking in Harry's appearance in the moonlight (he was dressed as he always was, except now he was clutching a bottle of scotch tightly in his hand). "I didn't know anyone else would be out here."
"It's the most cliche place people go when they want to get away from a party," Harry noted, taking a swig from the almost empty bottle. "So why is superhero Spider-Man at a party he's trying to ditch? Lack of kittens stuck in trees tonight?" Harry joked.
Peter shrugged, "A friend asked me to come."
"A girlfriend?"
"No, I haven't got one of those," Peter admitted.
"Well I would think that girls and boys would be throwing themselves at you, Spider-Man is seen as a legend around here."
Peter smiled slightly under his mask, glad to hear Harry finally acknowledge that Spider-Man wasn't just another useless wannabe superhero. "I'm sure that would be true if I was the real Spider-Man." Peter sighed, "What about you? Are you one of those boys who throws themselves at superheroes?" Peter asked, slightly taking advantage of Harry's drunken confessions.
"Of course not," Harry scoffed, "I don't waste my time with faux, middle school crushes." Harry waited a few seconds, but then he responded, "Plus it's probably because there's someone else. It sounds stupid but he's like, my own superhero in a way. But that stays between us, random, masked stranger." Harry warned, a smirk on his face and his eyes glistening from the amount of alcohol he consumed.
"Oh yeah? Who is he?" Peter questioned, his skin now prickling because he knew that interrogating his friend while he pretended to be someone else was wrong, but then again, he was actually dressed as himself.
It was a complicated situation that Peter was too excited to care about anymore.
"He's my best friend," Harry admitted, biting his lip, "But that's why I don't ever say anything because I know I'll fuck it up. Plus I doubt he'd ever feel the same."
Harry didn't even have to say it, because Peter just knew that Harry was talking about him. But is that what Peter wanted? Wasn't that the whole reason why Peter had pushed his friend to confess his feelings for him while he was in a vulnerable state? Had Peter been waiting for the opportunity to get Harry to come to terms with his feelings for Peter?
The answer to all of Peter's questions were the same: yes.
"Why don't you tell him?" Peter asked.
"Nothing would be the same," Harry said, looking away and shaking his head, "Peter's not like that. I couldn't lose him like that because I can't control that I'm in love with him."
Peter's heart dropped when he heard Harry say this, now knowing that he had been causing Harry triumph. That was the last thing Peter had ever wanted to do to Harry, and it killed him to think that his friend thought he didn't love him back.
"I say you should tell him," Peter suggested, and Harry's electric blue irises met Peter's own. "Give him a call and tell him how you feel. If he doesn't return like you back, then you can just tell him that you were drunk. It's foolproof."
Harry nodded, pulling his phone out of his pocket, "It's worth a shot. I guess I'll never know if I don't try." Harry sighed, dialing Peter's number into his phone.
Peter's heart raced with every digit that Harry entered into his phone, and he was sweating by time Harry had put the phone up to his ear.
Right on cue, Peter's phone began to vibrate inside of Spider-Man's glove, where Peter had tucked it away into safety. Peter gulped as he removed his phone from the glove and answered it, placing it to his ear and asking, "Hello?"
"Peter?" Harry queried, his eyebrows furrowed together in both excitement and disbelief.
"That's me," Peter exhaled heavily, removing his mask and revealing himself to someone else for the first time ever.
Harry only stared for a second, his expression unreadable. The phone was still pressed up to his ear, and almost inaudibly, Harry asked, "Well, do you?"
"Yeah," Peter replied simply, and Harry smiled and lunged toward Peter, promptly planting a kiss on his lips.
The kiss was a drunken clash of teeth and tongue and a strong taste of scotch before Harry pulled away, steadying himself after his unstable dive from across the terrace.
"Okay, wow, that's not how I wanted our first kiss to go," Harry laughed.
"Well I thought it was perfect for us," Peter admitted, his heart welling up in his chest, "But let's make our next kiss a little less awkward."
Peter tilted Harry's chin up with his thumb, and Peter lowered himself more to Harry's height. Harry rested his hands around Peter's neck as he gathered him closer into the kiss, and Peter gripped Harry's waist. Their second kiss was slower and full of meaning, and it felt like every doubt they had about each other melted away.
Harry was the first to break the kiss, and when he did, he looked at Peter with wide eyes and a smile. "How about I go home with you tonight, so I don't have to sleep out here on this cold terrace."
"I'm sure that's the only reason you want to go home with me," Peter rolled his eyes, sporting a grin so large that he thought his face was going to crack. Then Peter remembered that he was supposed to be there for MJ, but he would notify her on the way home, because he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity of taking a boy who was very much in love with him back to his house.
Peter slipped his arm around Harry as he led them back inside of the house. Harry rested his head on Peter's shoulder as Peter guided him downstairs, and once they were outside, Harry asked the million dollar question.
"What if you were really Spider-Man? Wouldn't that be hilarious?" Harry remarked, and Peter's stomach dropped. He had forgotten that Harry had assumed that Peter was only dressed up for a costume party.
"Would you still love me if I was?" Peter asked.
"I could never not," Harry stated, "It would just be one more thing I'd love you for."
Peter could gladly accept that answer.
Maybe dressing as himself wasn't the lamest thing ever, maybe if Peter hadn't have dressed up as himself, he wouldn't have gotten Harry Osborn under his arm.
That was something Peter didn't want to think about.