Archive of Our Own

If he could describe his life in one word, it would be tragic, or wasteful, or unfortunate.

That's the right word.

He finishes the glass of whiskey in one sip and orders another one the same. The waiter smiles at him and brushes his hand gracefully.

He's handsome, he can't deny it, he's tall, stocky, with long hair and an extremely attractive beard. Ever since he arrived at the bar he's flirted with him. He doesn't know if it's because he truly thinks Harry is handsome or because he knows he's Norman Osborn's son and technically a millionaire. It wouldn't be the first time that's happened.

The man brushes his hand again as he sets the whiskey down in front of him. He drinks from the glass halfway through. He had promised himself not to do this again.

The thought of inviting the waiter to his house crosses his mind. It could be that thing he has refused to do for a few years now. A night of passion and wild sex that will lead him to try to repress it all the next morning, sleeping and eating junk food naked in his room.

The idea that it is the waiter who invites him to the staff room and fuck without making much noise makes him feel more aroused.

He takes a good look at him. He's at the bar waiting for other drinks to finish with an angelic face. He knows he looks nothing like Peter. And he still can't decide if that's better or worse. But thinking about his best friend again shatters the whole sexual fantasy in his head.

He runs out of whiskey and orders another one.

He sighs, wishing he could just disappear.

His life was supposed to get better, that he'd finally dare to do everything he's always been terrified of, that after spending two years in Europe he'd be able to make decisions and everything would go his way for once.

He doesn't know why the hell he thought it would be easy.

He suspects the problem is that he had fooled himself into believing that with a five-step plan everything would turn out exactly as he had imagined.

The plan was practically foolproof, he'd go to Peter's house, hug him tight, they'd update each other on all those things they didn't talk about on the phone for the last two years, he'd discreetly ask if he's still dating MJ.

And that's when step five would get complicated.

If the answer was yes, he'd ask how things are going, hand him a little letter with all his feelings and step away for a few days to make the awkwardness go away.

But if the answer was no, if there was a small, slim chance that Peter was single again, that would be the end of his first plan and the beginning of the second, more important one.

He would invite him to eat the next day, a reservation at a fancy restaurant, but not too much because Peter really hates them.

Then he'd take him for a walk for a while, surprise him with a ride on their old bikes in the park until it got dark and guide him in an almost absent-minded way to that place near the lake where they used to talk when they were younger and wanted to get away from their problems.

There he would have a blanket laid out with a small dinner, they would have fun, reminisce about things from before and look at the stars. Harry's hands would not stop shaking before he would confess his feelings to him.

He would tell Peter that he has always loved him and wants to be more than his friend. Of course in a speech he has written in his head and has been stretching with each passing year.

If Peter said yes (and honestly that was the only scenario he wanted to imagine), fireworks would start lighting up the night sky and he would kiss him tenderly.

The plan started out well, though not as he had hoped.

Seeing his best friend face to face at the door of May's house took all the balance out of him. Peter is much more handsome in person than in his memory. And it had been 738 days since he'd shown up on the Parker's doorstep.

The moment their gazes met, Peter threw himself into his arms. He held him tight and even lifted him a little in the air. He didn't remember his friend being so strong.

“You don't know how much I missed you.” He touched him everywhere, his arms, his face, his chest, as if he wanted to check that Harry was really there, that he was real. “Why didn't you tell me you were coming today?” He gave him a little push in the chest. “I would have prepared something.”

“I wanted to surprise you.” Harry smiled back, they went inside. The house was quite a mess and Peter was very apologetic about it. The only places available were at the dining room table.

Peter told him that he had just finished his first week as a high school science teacher that afternoon. The excitement was quite evident, he talked about his students, how attentive they are and how amused and amazed they were with the homemade experiments. He confessed to him that he already has the semester all prepared and has started working on the next one. Although it is not a secure job, he likes to think that he will be there for a long time. Harry thought that if that's Peter's dream, he could convince his father to open some science schools and offer him a place, in case things at that high school go wrong.

He listened to him talk, watched his gestures, the hand movements, laughed at the silly little jokes that genuinely made him laugh. With every second Harry was falling more and more in love.

Peter ordered a pizza over the phone and when he sat down next to him again he asked him how his trip had been. "I want the honest version, Harry," he told Harry, his tone polite and slightly arrogant at the same time. He had no choice but to tell him the truth.

It was a very boring trip. Every day that passed he couldn't wait to go back.

He had only one routine, no matter the day or the country, he got up very early, showered, dressed in one of the hundreds of black suits his father made him wear, went to business meetings to create ties between companies and governments with Oscorp. He would go back to his hotel room, shower again, lie down for hours until it was time to call Peter. He would go out in the evenings for a walk, sometimes to dinner at a restaurant, most days he would just go back to the hotel, order room service and fall asleep watching horror movies. And it was horrible.

He knows he probably sounded like a fucking millionaire with problems that might be a luxury to most, but Pete didn't judge him then, or ever.

Before the pizza arrived they talked about May. He remembers the sadness and helplessness he felt when he got the call from a crying Peter in the early hours of the morning. Unable to comfort him, unable to really be there for him.

He hugged him, told him he was sorry, that May had been an extraordinary person who always made him feel welcome in their home and that he would have liked to have been here when it all happened. Peter cried inconsolably, in a way he'd never seen him cry before. Harry hugged him with the same tenderness Peter had when they found out Harry's mother had died.

The sound of the doorbell was the culprit that stopped them from hugging. Peter tried to stop the tears and make his eyes look less red. Harry wiped away a few tears and told him that he would get the pizza.

“I'm sorry I made this awkward.” Peter said, his voice a little scratchy, with no tears in his eyes anymore.

“Pete, you have nothing to apologize for.” He assured him as he set the pizza down on the table, Peter had taken the opportunity to put two plates and two cans of soda in front of their places, side by side. “Besides, you make things awkward since I've known you, it's like your superpower.” It made him laugh genuinely and that's always a big win in Harry's eyes.

They chatted about quieter things while they ate.

The cafeteria they used to go to after school ceased to exist and is now a bookstore. They want to watch the latest Scream movie together; when it came out Harry tried to watch it in Italian but didn't understand half the movie. Peter suggested they could do a movie marathon one of these days.

They finished the pizza just as quickly as usual and kept talking nonsense, reminiscing about the old days, complaining about life. It was like being fifteen again.

“So.” Peter said with a smile, crossed his arms and didn't look away from his eyes. “What is currently going on in the romantic life of handsome, millionaire Harry Osborn?” He knew that all his best friend was doing was imitating the voice of local reporters and the phrases of magazines and newspapers that are too interested in the Osborn's life. But, that was the first time Peter had ever called him handsome, his brain was threatening to stop working.

“Not much.”

“Come on, Harry, you can't be serious.” Peter stopped crossing his arms and started playing with one of the empty cans, rolling it across the table, his gaze focused on his own hands. “Have you seen yourself in a mirror?”Of course that was the moment Peter decided to look up, as a slight blush formed on Harry's cheeks. “I remember very well how most girls would fight to go out with you, back in high school and college. It's probably the same now.” Harry raised an eyebrow and gave him a little grin.

“Pete, you know I'm gay.”

“But that has nothing to do with what I just said.” Peter pointed his finger at him. “What I mean is that you're good looking. I don't know if you know but at school there were quite a few boys who wanted to go out with you too.”

“Of course not.”

“You can't be that blind.” Peter shook his head, as if he found that all very amusing. “I'm more than sure that at least half of Europe wanted a date with you. Or a few kisses at least.”

“Shut up.” He laughs, it's not very usual for Peter to tease him like that, but it's not the first time he's done it. “But now that you mention it, a handsome Italian asked me to be his husband so he could become king. In fact I only came back to New York to invite you to the wedding and ask you to be my best man.”

“You do know that Italy's monarchy ended in 1946, right?”

“So he was lying to me!?” They both had a good laugh, everything really was like being teenagers again, the table, the silliness, the empty pizza box... the only thing missing was May offering them some dessert and asking them not to stay up too late. “You're such a nerd, who remembers that stuff?”

“Harry, don't change the subject.” Peter tried to get serious. “I understand if you don't want to tell me but....”

“Seriously Pete, there's nothing to tell.” For a few moments, he thought he saw his best friend's body relax. “What about you? Things going well with MJ?”

“Well, technically yes.”An indescribable, but annoying weight fell on Harry's stomach. His palms were sweating and he had a tremendous urge to cry, but he kept it all together. “But we're just friends now.”

“Really?” Now that he sees this scene as a memory, he realizes that he didn't hide his enthusiasm or the sudden hope that flooded his body. “Since when?”

“We realized we were better off being friends. And... Please don't get mad.” Peter wrinkled his nose slightly, ran his tongue over his lips, looked up at the kitchen window, then into Harry's eyes, scratched the back of his neck.

“I won't.” He assured.

“We broke up two years ago, a few days before you left on your trip.” Hearing those words was like diving into a pool full of ice. His heart leapt, his imagination too. It probably wouldn't have changed anything between Peter and him, but, the possibility of it was haunting him. It still haunts him now.

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“Oh no, you sound disappointed, get angry please.” He didn't hold back his laughter, the funniest thing of all is that he knows Peter didn't say it with that intention or to change the tone of the conversation, that was one of his natural expressions.

“Come on, Pete.” He tried to regain his composure and seriousness.

“I don't know, I'm sorry. I really am.” He nodded his head, waiting for a more detailed explanation. “Neither MJ nor I wanted to worry you, plus it was all so civilized I didn't even know how I felt about it. I thought about telling you over the phone but it felt too casual. Then I thought it would be better to tell you when you got back because we thought you would only be gone for a few months but the days went by and I didn't know if I should tell you but I felt guilty and before I knew it two years had gone by without telling you and.... I'm sorry, now that I listen to myself I know I should have told you.”

“I'm the one who's sorry, Pete. I shouldn't have gone away for so long.”

“Well, it's not like you had a choice.” At the time he didn't dare tell him the truth, he doesn't know if he'll ever be able to. “I don't want you to feel guilty.”

“I don't want you to feel guilty.”

“So neither of us is left with guilt?”

“Knowing each other, what we can do is share it.” It was starting to get dark and he was beginning to feel more confident about following through with his plan. But there was still one question to ask, a lot can happen in two years. “Did you meet anyone in these two years?”

“Lots of people.” Harry smiled and rolled his eyes, now Pete was playing dumb. “Oh, you meant romantically. I met a woman.” To say he wanted to disappear right then and there is an understatement. “It started and ended quickly. Although a few months ago, she called me to tell me we had a son...” He has no idea what face he must have been making for Peter to settle back in the chair and look at him trying to reassure him. “But it was just a way of trying to win me back, that son doesn't even exist.”

“My god, Pete, you need to tell things with the right emotion. You blurt this out to me like you saw a cute dog on your way to the store.” they both laughed, biting his lip, the anticipation of asking him out was starting to build. “I guess you weren't telling me these things either because they were too serious to say over the phone, right?”

“Um, I, uh, yeah.” Peter sighs, then grins at him. “Plus I didn't want to miss your face when I told you, you're so expressive.”

“Who knew that shy little Peter Parker would turn into such a casanova.”

“I'm not...” Peter was smiling, avoiding his gaze, he could see a big blush on his cheeks.

“We should have suspected it, with your new hairstyle you look less nerdy.”

“Hey!” The blush didn't leave his best friend's face. Harry took a breath, it was the last question he had to ask to finally start the second plan.

“So, casanova, are you dating anyone?”

“Not yet, but I like someone.” At that moment everything stopped mattering. He put on his best smile and listened to Peter talk about this fantastic person, intelligent, with a taste for horror movies, books and video games, a lover of science, quite funny and according to Peter, with the beauty of the whole world.

His heart couldn't take it much. He said goodbye after that. Peter tried to convince him to stay and have a weekend like the ones before. But he refused without much explanation.

He needed to get away from Peter. He needed... he needs to understand and experience this sadness, let it all out of his system, get used to the idea that they will just be friends.

He finishes his drink, guiltily again, he thinks Pete's friendship is not a consolation prize, it shouldn't be, he knows that and he will always love him. But it doesn't stop hurting that nothing of what he had dreamed by his side will never happen.

He orders the last whiskey. He drinks it in one gulp and thinks about how strange it is to miss Peter even though he saw him a few hours ago. Maybe what he misses is the tiny hope that made him believe he could love him too.

He pulls out his wallet, doesn't count the money well but knows he's left more than he should, puts it next to his glass, then signals the waiter to let him know he paid the bill and walks out of the bar, stumbling.

He's drunk but not as drunk as he expected. The world is blurry and sometimes spins, he feels nauseous, he can't feel his face, and he has a sedate tickle all over his body. But he remembers his name, keeps thinking about Peter and keeps remembering that his life is unfortunate.

He is in the worst state of drunkenness, because now, besides being sad, he feels guilty.

Outside the wind is cold and much stronger than he remembered it being in New York. The night is beautiful, just as he imagined it would be when he asked Peter to be his boyfriend.

He throws up at the entrance to the bar, there is no one around so he continues on his way trying to move faster.

Once in the parking lot, he throws up again near the grass next to his car. He hopes that by tomorrow the dirt will make it go away.

He wipes his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket. He needs to get home, lie down and pretend he doesn't exist for about twenty days.

He can't find his keys. He runs his hands through each of his pants and jacket pockets about six times. Until he finds them in his usual pocket on the seventh try. He laughs as he tries to insert the key into the stupid hole in the door. He can't help but hear his father's voice telling him that he should have one of those modern self-driving cars that would save him all this trouble.

“Need help, handsome?” A man with a red scarf around his face and a black cap appears next to him, he puts his hand on the top of the car, he suspects he is smiling. He looks around, there are six other muscular guys and two much bigger ones behind them.

Perfect, what he was missing, they're going to kill him. That's all he needed to make this day the worst day of his life.

“I asked you something.” The guy says angrily and gets very close to his face. A gleam appears in the offender's eyes, he just recognized him.

That's even worse.

This just went from a carjacking to a possible kidnapping. They will ask his father for all the money he has and knowing him he will give up every penny. Then they'll find him dead in some city dump or throw him off the Brooklyn Bridge and no one will know what happened to him.

“I'm fine, thank you.” He sounds drunker than he expected, the guys start laughing and the criminal closest to him takes the keys from him and throws him to the ground. He falls into a sitting position and the pain seems to bring some clarity back to his mind and body, though not enough to escape.

“Guys, we've got a big fish here, it's Prince Osborn” It's the first time he's heard him called that, he'd be laughing if he wasn't about to be beaten, kidnapped or killed.

“Don't you think if he's a prince he shouldn't be treated like that?” A different voice comes from above, he glances at the lamppost above his car, the most recognizable silhouette in New York is there. "Besides, wouldn't that cause an international mess?"

“It's Spider-Man!” One of the guys tries to run, but the superhero manages to entangle him with his web.

The next thing that happens is very fast. Spider-Man lunges at the criminal closest to Harry and knocks him out with a kick. Two others try to draw their weapons, but Spider-Man is much faster and tangles them both to the ground. He punches the first one he entangled and knocks him out as well. He pulls out some robotic arms to hit the four remaining criminals and when they are all on the ground he slams them to the ground with his webbing. Spider-Man knocks the keys out of the criminal's hands and approaches Harry.

“Are you okay?” The superhero asks him gently, as if he's really worried about what just happened to him, but that would be absurd, it's not like they know each other. Spider-Man checks his body. His face, forces him to follow his finger with his eyes, touches his legs, his arms, his abdomen, looking for any bumps, protruding bones or blood.

“It could be worse.” His voice sounds less drunk, but not much. “Those guys just threw me to the ground, I'm fine.” He tries to get up but the combination of alcohol and pain only causes him to fall to the ground again. Before he hits the ground, Spider-Man grabs him and pulls him to his feet, as if he weighs as much as a feather.

“What exactly happened?”

“I was drinking to forget.” The mask's eyes are much more expressive than he expected. “Oh you mean about the criminals.” He laughs, he really is making a fool of himself, first with Peter, now with Spider-Man.

“That's exactly what I mean, Prince Harry.” The superhero, still holding him tight says to him with a softness and gentleness he would love to get from Pete.

“How do you know my name?” Spider-Man laughs, loudly. “God, the criminals just said it. Would you please knock me out?”

“Not until you tell me what happened.”

“I was trying to go home when I was surrounded by these guys, I think they wanted to steal my car but realized I'd be more valuable.” He pauses, the suffering and embarrassment won't end soon it seems. “That sounded arrogant.”

“But it's not a lie.”

“Then you came along.” He tries to ignore the discomfort but also the sudden butterflies in his stomach that appeared, those he had only felt when he was thinking and being with Pete.

“Wait, you were planning on driving home?” Harry opens and closes his mouth, but can't articulate a single word. He hadn't considered how dangerous this would have been, how stupid he was about to be.

“Knock me out now.” Spider-Man laughs and pats him on the back.

“That would speak very poorly of me as a superhero. It would give Jonah reason to finish me off in his podcast.” Harry doesn't know what he's feeling, it's a strange closeness. He doesn't know Spider-Man, the man under the mask, but he feels calm, close, drawn in. “Do you want us to call someone to come and get you? Your father? Any special friends?” The superhero makes a special tone on the last question.

“Dad is out of town.” He tries to let go of Spider-Man's body but he holds him tighter. “Today is my first day back and Dad decided to go on a trip, isn't that sad?” He doesn't know why the hell he's telling him things he didn't even tell Peter earlier. “And I don't want to worry Pete.”

“Are you sure? If he's a good friend I don't think he'd mind coming after you.”

“Oh, don't get me wrong, he's great, he'd never get upset. He'd even gladly come over here and make me stay at his house and make sure I had a hot breakfast tomorrow and that the hangover was as unobtrusive as possible. He's the best friend anyone could have.” He pauses, suddenly realizing he's blurting out too much information and suspects alcohol isn't the culprit. “Sorry, you should probably leave soon to help the city and eat bugs, those things spiders do.” Spider-Man laughs heartily and Harry's heart races with excitement and happiness.

“I'm going to use that joke one of these days.” The superhero's arms hold him tighter. “But I think it's obvious that I'm just now helping a citizen in distress.” It's as if time stopped and a possibility appeared, leaving Peter behind and falling in love with Spider-Man. He knows it's the alcohol talking. “Besides, I'm not the only Spider-Man in town anymore, my shift ended ten minutes ago.” He suspects he's lying and maybe it would be a better idea to call a cab or call his father's assistant to have someone from the company drive him safely to the penthouse. “Let me take you to your palace, Prince Harry.” Spider-Man imitates an awful British accent, but it makes him laugh and the butterflies are strong in his stomach. It feels good, really good. “Please.”

“Okay, but only because you used that bad accent.” Spider-Man carries him without warning, his arms strong, holding him securely but also familiarly, as if this isn't the first time he's lifted him.

“I hope you don't mind me taking you swinging. I don't know how wise it is for the city to see me driving Harry Osborn's car.”

“Just be careful, I don't want to throw up on your suit.”

The superhero holds him firmly and begins to move through the city. They are smooth and slow movements but at the same time fast and full of adrenaline.

Harry closes his eyes and hugs himself tightly. He keeps thinking that Spider-Man's closeness is a good consolation for Peter's absence.

They rock for a few more minutes, his ears are plugged and he's much more nauseous than before.

“You can open your eyes now, my prince.” Again the fake accent that makes him laugh. The last two words go round and round in his head. If only Peter had said something like that...

He opens his eyes, they are on the penthouse terrace. He lets go of the superhero's body. He immediately holds on to the metal handrail, trying to keep some composure and let the dizziness pass.

“Are you all right? The first swing can always be a little chaotic.”

“I'm fine, I just need a few minutes.” The taste of whiskey returns to his mouth, maybe he should have eaten something while he was at the bar.

“Can I ask you something?” Spider-Man's voice surprises him, by the sudden noise and by the unexpected softness he finds in his voice.

“You saved me from those criminals and brought me home, I guess that's the least I can do.” Spider-Man also leans on the handrail to get to his level.

“What did you mean you went drinking to forget?” He takes a deep breath, sighs, maybe it's good to talk about this with someone once and for all.

“Remember Peter?” Spider-Man nods slowly, not taking his eyes off Harry. “He's great. Smart, funny, sweet, a little nerdy but in the cutest, most perfect way possible.” He pictures Spider-Man smiling, the expression in the mask's eyes softening. “We met when we were in high school and became friends almost instantly. He's the kind of friend who's always there for you and supports you even when he's feeling nervous or self-conscious... I got us in a lot of trouble when we were young and he still wanted to remain my friend.”

“I don't know either of you well, but if Peter is anything like me, he probably liked getting into trouble with you.”

“Probably, I don't know.” Harry leans a little more on the handrail, he sees the cars moving through the city, it brings him a strange calm. “But before I knew it I was already in love, you know? Within the first few months of us meeting, boom! The other guys ceased to exist. Even now. I'm just an old cliché, gay man falls in love with his straight best friend, pathetic.”

“Hey, don't talk so bad about yourself.”

“Sorry, it's the alcohol.” He takes a deep breath, looks up at the sky and laughs. “That's why I didn't want Peter to see me either, I promised him I wouldn't drink this much again, I always end up in this self-depressed state that I hate.”

“I promise I won't tell him anything.” Spider-Man chuckles and that's when Harry remembers that Peter has taken pictures of him multiple times for the front pages of the newspaper.

“Damn, I forgot you know him.”

“Relax, I don't know him that well.” Spider-Man uses a concerned tone of voice, as if he's ruined everything. “Haven't you ever tried to tell him anything?”

“Multiple times. It's almost absurd. I always hugged him, told him he looked good with the horrible haircut he wore when we were teenagers, which wasn't true but he's always been cute to me. And we went to several dances together, in one of my father's limousines, just the two of us. You don't know how many times I imagined that when we came home we were kissing non-stop and then watching scary movies or playing horror video games. He has always been fearful.”

“I don't want to offend him, but Peter doesn't seem to pick up on signals very well.”

“He's very shy. I think less so now, I've been away for so long and I'm terrified he doesn't want me in his life anymore.”

“That's the alcohol talking, remember.” Harry chuckles.

“It's funny, you know, he always said the same thing to me when I drank with him.” Harry looks away from the sky and back at the superhero mask. “But Pete was dating the girl of his dreams, who is also our best friend. And I was happy for them, but I was also lonely. The two of them were talking about moving in together, they were considering starting a family, although in the distant future but I felt like they were taking my dream away from me and flaunting it in my face.”

“But...”

“I know, it wasn't their fault and I still feel terrible for even thinking that. So I went to another continent to try to figure this out and to forget about Pete. Romantically speaking, at least.”

“I guess it didn't work.”

“You're a superhero and a scientist.” Spider-Man laughs, ducks his head and looks back at him.

“I read in the paper that you'd gone off to promote Oscorp.”

“It's true.” Harry grins, but in a more bitter way. “The last thing I wanted was for the gossip magazines to say something like Osborn heir leaves town because his best friend doesn't realize he's been in love with him for ten years.”

“But at least your father was happy about your departure, right?”

“Not at all. He hated the idea from the moment I proposed it to him. He wanted me here, Peter and MJ wanted me here, but I... I thought I needed to get away.”

“Now you don't think so?”

“Not so much.” The cold wind sends an electric current through his body. “I found out today that Peter and MJ ended their relationship days before I left. And I know that wouldn't mean he would suddenly fall in love with me but I can't help but wonder what would have happened if I had stayed. Maybe, I don't know, we'd be together, looking for a place to live or... Maybe I would have confessed everything to him, he rejects me and my life could go on. I could fall in love with the handsome waiter today, or the Italian businessman who wanted me to stay there to get to know me more or.... even you.”

They are both silent. Harry looks off into the distance, the city, the helicopters, the cars, the stars, the moon. They stay like that for a while, he feels like he ruined everything once again.

“I don't really know what to say to you.” Spider-Man breaks the silence.“I get the impression you don't talk much about your feelings.”

“Superhero, scientist and psychologist. You sure are popular in the dating world.”

“Not like I'd like to be.” Spider-Man laughs. “There's a guy who loves me and I hope he knows I love him too.”

“Oh, I didn't know that...”

“That the amazing Spider-Man is bisexual? Wait, you're changing the direction of the conversation. We're talking about you.”

“That always works with Peter.” A sense of peace comes over him as he laughs. It gives him some peace to know that Spider-Man is in love, it makes him more human.

“Listen, I'm not good at this kind of conversation either.” The superhero confesses to him. “But you're a great guy. You deserve to be able to love and be loved as intensely as you do. And maybe even though he's a little nerdy and too clueless to notice your signs from the past, I think Peter might be in love with you too.”

“I suspect you're just saying that because you have your Spider-Boyfriend.” To his surprise, the superhero laughs pretty hard.

“He's going to hate it so much when I call him like that, but you're probably right.” Spider-Man stretches his arms and cranes his neck. “But look, I think not knowing if he feels the same way you do is driving you crazy. You changed your life for two years and you still love him. Seems to me that must be a sign of something, right?”

“Now I understand why there are so many villains who want to take you down.” Spider-Man laughs, looking at the sky.

“Just promise you'll consider it, okay?”

“All right, Spidey. Just because you saved me from dying.” Spider-Man climbs up on the railing and looks at him.

“Do you think you can make it to your bed by yourself?”

“I feel much better already.” He means it in more ways than one. He straightens up, ready to go into the house and sleep until he forgets who he is.

“Harry...” Spider-Man seems to want to tell him something important, scratches the back of his neck, then returns his hands to the starting position. “Good luck with Peter.”

“Thanks for rescuing me.”

“My pleasure, Prince Harry.” He uses the fake English accent and disappears swinging through the city.

Harry laughs loudly. He stares at the space where the superhero used to be. Maybe in some universe the two are destined to end up together.

He enters the house, it's a bit chilly but he takes off his jacket and leaves it on one of the couches in the living room and goes into his room. There he finishes undressing, throwing all his clothes off without paying much attention to where they fall, he just wants to sleep and forget about today.

He closes the blinds and lies down on the bed without taking cover. Before falling asleep, he thinks about Peter. Maybe he can try to confess what he feels when he stops feeling so miserable. Maybe.

The first thing he notices when he wakes up is the horrible headache, as if it were a bomb that has already exploded and only the ruins remain. The second thing is that, although most of the nausea has disappeared, it is still there, as well as the taste of vomit in the mouth. The third thing is that he wants to pee but doesn't want to move an inch.

He opens his eyes, the room is too dark. He sits on the bed, carves his eyes, rubs his neck, tries to make sense of it all. He remembers every detail of what happened yesterday, every damn detail. But it still seems surreal the more he thinks about it.

Finally the urge to pee won out, he stands up, the floor is cold, his clothes are strewn around the room but knowing he will be alone he decides to go to the bathroom naked.

Peter's face appears in his mind. He manages to distract himself when he sees a red light bulb flashing on the landline phone. He has a message from his father, no surprise since he is the only one still using that antique.

He asks him how he's doing, how his first day back has been, that he hopes his trip will be over soon but he suspects it will be at least another week, maybe two.

He's not going to think about guilt now, but he's happy to hear that. He needs to be alone, he really does. He needs to truly consider whether he wants to confess everything to Peter.

He thinks about Spider-Man's words too, he likes to imagine that maybe Harry and Peter can also have the same fortune as Spider-Man and the man he loves.

He goes into the bathroom and pees. He doesn't know what time it is, brushes his teeth and takes a shower with cold water. He is hungry and disgusted at the same time. He had forgotten what it was like to wake up with a hangover.

He comes out of the bathroom drying off and goes back to his room. He throws the towel on one of the armchairs and throws himself back on the bed. He doesn't know what the hell to do. The headache and hunger are strong, but so are the anguish and uncertainty. He feels paralyzed.

Maybe what he should do is lie there, listen to music to make himself feel sadder, jerk off, think about Peter, pretend he doesn't exist for a few days and try to get back to his old self. But he doesn't know what that means anymore.

He starts to fall asleep and thinks that maybe that's a better option than facing all his problems. He pushes the sheets aside, he's exhausted and really enjoys being in his bed.

But he hears three knocks on his door.

He opens his eyes, suddenly too alert and frightened. No one was in the house a while ago when he went out, but he doesn't know how long he had been dozing. Who the hell could it be? It's almost impossible that it's his father, from the message he left him. Maybe it could be the cleaning people, although they usually come on Wednesdays but he hasn't been in the penthouse for two years and many things could have changed, but his father would have warned him. The criminals from last night? No, that would be absurd.

From the bed he looks for something he can defend himself with, he thinks maybe he can use his belt.

“Harry? Are you awake?”

“Peter?” He relaxes quickly, but now he feels confused.

“I'm going in.” He doesn't have time to do anything but make sure he's covered. Peter calmly enters, seeming to be bothered by the lack of light and blinks several times. “Are you all right? I called you like ten times.” The only illumination is coming in from the open door, Peter moves a little closer, without reaching the bed.

“Really?” Harry tries to control his heart. “I don't know where my cell phone is.”

“Well, that´s not important now, get up, I brought you lunch.”

“Isn't it too early for lunch?”

“Harry, it's almost four in the afternoon.” Peter walks over to the windows. “Get up, let's go to the kitchen, you need to eat.”

“No.” He sounds a little cold and that's the last thing he wants. “I'm sorry, you took me by surprise and I thought I was going to be alone all day so...”

“So what?” Sometimes it surprises him how clueless or innocent Peter can be, it's probably the first one.

“I'm naked, Pete.”

“Oh.” Peter blushes, he's loving being able to cause that. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have barged in like that and... I'll wait for you in the kitchen.” Peter practically runs out, slamming the door behind him.

Harry starts laughing and really relaxes. He runs his hand over his face then tries to arrange his hair, it probably looks awful.

He gets up, puts on some black boxers, a clean pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. He puts on black socks and sneakers.

He pulls up the blinds, the light is still bothering him.

He leaves the room and goes straight to the kitchen, Peter is sitting in one of the dining room chairs, with two plates, one full of French fries and the other with six or so hamburgers. Plus two plates with nothing on them.

“Hey, sunshine.” Peter smiles at him, Harry doesn't know what to do with his heart or his emotions.

“Hey, intruder.” He sits down next to Peter, he doesn't have the heart to tell him that the smell of the food is making him sick.

“I'm sorry, I know you said I could only use the key you gave me for an emergency but you didn't return my calls last night, or today and I got really worried.”

“Pete, relax, I was just kidding.” He knows his voice sounds more muffled and raspy than usual. “I'm sorry I worried you.”

“You drank last night.” It's not a question, Peter doesn't mean it in a hostile way, it's simply an observation.

“Yeah.” The smell of food makes him gag and he tries to hold it in.

“Nauseous?”

“Since last night.”

“So you drank whiskey.”

“How do you know that?”

“When you drink vodka you pee a lot, when you drink tequila it's impossible to wake you up, when it's whiskey you can't stop being nauseous.”

“How do you know that? I didn't even realize it myself.”

“Who takes care of you after every drinking binge?” Peter smiles at him and stands up, walks to the kitchen, Harry sees him pour orange juice halfway into a glass, then breaks an egg, puts more juice in it and stirs it with a spoon. “Here, take this.”

“Do I really have to? That's disgusting.”

“Do you trust me?”He thinks about telling him no, just to annoy him, but he does trust Peter, a lot. He drinks it all in one gulp.

“Better?” He realizes that he is better. The disgust is fading and gives way to hunger. Now the smell of food makes his stomach growl.

“How did you do that?”

“Do you want the scientific answer or the everyday one?”

“The everyday one, my head won't take the nerdy Pete who will explain everything to me in great detail.”

“I'll go and get you a headache pill, then.” Peter disappears, Harry can hear him move the bathroom mirror where they keep all the pills. He soon returns with a pill in his hand, pours water in a glass and hands it to him. “But I'll tell you the everyday version because I don't want to make you suffer.”

“Thank you.” He takes the pill, he doesn't know why he didn't do this from the moment he woke up. “So, what is it?”

“It's the Parker's home hangover remedy.”

“The Parkers were drinkers?”

“Apparently.” Peter sits down again, without asking he puts a hamburger on his plate and some French fries. He does the same with his plate. “May left me some notes with tips, remedies, ideas, supportive phrases, pictures. I've been going through it and just happened to come up with this remedy last night.”

Peter bites into his hamburger like it's the most delicious thing in the world, then opens two cans of lemon soda.

“Why did you drink last night? And don't give me an excuse, you only do that when something is really bad.”

“I had an argument with Dad last night.” It's the first thing that comes to his mind to say.

“Really?” Although Pete's mouth is full, he can hear some disbelief. “You told me yesterday that he was out of town.”

“Did I?” He tries to remember yesterday afternoon more precisely, his memory starting to feel a little more fragmented than before. “But anyway, we argued on the phone.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Peter looks at him with some uncertainty, he knows that Osborn fights are always a bit intense. He feels guilty for having to lie to him, but he can't just tell him last night I went drinking to try to forget you and it didn't work, I still love you with all my heart.

“You know how things are. He wants me to do something, I refuse to do it.”

“What does he want you to do now?” Peter takes a second burger, he's surprised at how thin he is with how much he eats.

“He wants me to go on a trip, all over the world now.” He hopes his father doesn't come back soon, if he runs into Peter his lie won't last five seconds.

“You can't leave again!”

“That's what I told him. But things got out of hand, I said hurtful things, he complained about things, I hung up on him and walked out of the house to the first bar I could find.”

“I'm sorry, Harry.” Peter wipes his hands with a napkin and then puts one on Harry's shoulders. “But you should have called me, I could have joined you in that bar.”

“You don't drink.”

“A little, sometimes.” Peter gives him one of those looks that reminds him of the cute boy he fell in love with.  “But I would have listened to you, I would have kept you company.”

“I was so angry, I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“Did you went to the bar in your car?”

“Yeah.” Harry finishes his first burger and grabs another one plus some French fries. “But I took a cab back, the car is still outside the bar, I hope. I'm not sure where my keys went, though.” His lie is so convincing that he starts to believe it. He wonders at what point he started getting so good at it. Probably it happened between having such a strict father and being in love with his best friend without wanting him to notice. But he really doesn't know where the keys are.

“Maybe we should go get your car.” Peter looks out the window, finishes his second burger and takes a long drink of his soda, wipes his hands on a napkin and then his lips. “Did you work things out with your dad?”

“Not yet, he asked me to call him later but I thought I'd leave him a voicemail saying I'll call him until tomorrow. I still don't want to talk to him.”

“I won't let him send you anywhere.” Peter smiles, settles his hands on the table, sounds determined, then looks him in the eye. “Even if I have to kidnap you, you won't leave.” Harry laughs, it's nice to feel that Peter doesn't want to be away from him either.

“I don't want to leave and I won't, I promise.”

“You better not.” Peter stands up, he starts to gather the things from the table. “Hey, what do you say we go get your car and then walk around for a while, get some ice cream or something and then go to Coney Island, just like old times.”

“Pete, I don't know.”

“Please.” Peter makes an angelic look, puts the stuff down on the table again, grabs him by the shoulder and smiles in a way that drives him crazy. He's used this method since they were sixteen and Harry always ends up giving in.

“When we get back here and my head hurts worse I'm going to blame you.” Peter hugs him from behind, Harry still sits up but puts his hands on top of his friend's hands.

“You won't regret it, I promise.” Peter breaks the hug and starts to clear the table again. “I'm going to clean up here while you go get your keys and leave a message for your father.” He smiles at him and drinks the rest of his soda, the feeling of the hug still warm in his body. Harry wipes his hands and mouth with a napkin, takes one last look at Peter and leaves the kitchen.

He calls his father from the landline in the living room, leaves a voice mail explaining everything. He's sure that since his father loves Pete, there won't be any problems. It's something they used to use to their advantage when they were young. The same thing happened sometimes with May and Harry, but she was quicker to spot what was going on.

He searches the room for his keys and phone. In his drawers, under the bed, in his desk, near the TV cabinet. He finds his phone in his pants from the night before, out of battery.

He gets his charger and plugs the phone in, leaving it in its usual place on the desk. When he has some battery he looks to see if any newspaper, gossip magazine or anyone with a camera and internet access reported that Spider-Man saved him last night. It's the kind of news he should avoid, that's what his father has always told him.

Fortunately there is nothing.

He leaves the room with worry starting to overwhelm him, he doesn't know where the hell his keys are and he's terrified that he's lost his car forever.

“Look what I found in the kitchen.” Pete is standing near the door, his keys in his hand.

“How did you find them?” Harry rushes over and checks that they're the right keys, Peter just smiles proudly at him and shoves his hands in his pants pockets.

“It was luck, I guess.”

“But how did they get there?”

“Does it really matter?” Peter seems a little more nervous than before.

“It just seems illogical to me that you found them in the kitchen, if yesterday I was only on the terrace, in the living room and in my room.”

“Did I say the kitchen? I meant here in the living room.”

“Peter...”

“We're going to be late.” Peter opens the door, gives a little bow and a hand motion worthy of a royal subject. “Let's go find your carriage, Prince Harry.” His heart races, he drops the keys on the floor, takes a few steps back. “Harry?”

“What did you just call me?” Peter opens his eyes wide, closes the door and walks over to Harry, puts his hands on Harry's shoulders.

“I swear I can explain.”

“You're...” Harry takes a moment before he can say it out loud, terrified of making a fool of himself again. “You're Spider-Man.”

“Yeah” Peter holds him a little tighter, trying to make sure their gazes never leave each other's side. “Please say me something.”

“It's fantastic!”

“What?” Peter lowers his arms, totally confused.

“Why didn't you tell me before?! I could have helped you! Peter, you're a superhero!”

“Not so loud.” Peter looks around as if there are cameras all over the place. Although knowing his father, there probably are. “I'm sorry, I didn't know how to tell you and...”

“Oh fuck.” Harry just realized the implications of this. - You're Spider-Man.

“Yeah.” Peter frowns in confusion that they're having this conversation again. “We just established it like two seconds ago.”

“But it's just that last night I told Spider-Man... about you.” It's the best way he can say it without having to say it again. His heart is still beating fast, there was no way to foresee this outcome, he begins to expect the worst.

“Don't move.” Peter goes straight to the kitchen, he hears the refrigerator doors open, his friend returns with both hands behind his back, he's holding something. “Look, since yesterday I had a plan, a bad one but it was a plan. I wasn't expecting you until next week but I thought it might work.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I invited you to stay last night with the idea that you would say yes.” Peter keeps talking as if Harry hasn't said anything. “I was hoping to buy you some dinner, order food like when we were in high school, play video games and when you beat me a few times I would bet a dare. Then my real video game talents would come out and after I won I would dare you to kiss me.”

“Peter...”If Harry's heart begins to go any faster, it will explode.

“But you left without letting me tell you anything. I called you so many times, I wanted to move away from the plan to tell you everything. I went out patrolling the city and I got a notification on the Spider-Men app. I almost wanted to kill all those criminals when I saw it was you they wanted to rob.”

“So the keys weren't in my kitchen.”Harry takes a small step forward.

“I forgot to give them back to you last night.” Peter looks down a little, then back up into his eyes. “And last night was so weird. Hearing you talk about me like that. So sad and devastated, I wanted to punch myself.”

“Pete...”

“No, wait.” Peter takes a deep breath. “First of all, I want you to know that I fell in love with you too from the moment we met. But I didn't realize it, it was just something that was there in my mind and in my heart. The thought of losing you was so much scarier than anything and then I started liking MJ too and I was so confused and I thought it would be best to take care of your friendship.” Peter looks down a little, with a serious look on his face. - But going back yesterday, I planned to bring you breakfast, play video games, invite you to swim in your pool like before, make time until it was lunchtime and take you out for burgers, then go for ice cream and Coney Island. But you weren't answering my calls and I realized I still had your keys and I was starting to freak out, but...”Peter looks at him again. “I brought you this.”

Peter holds out his arms, he has a tray with a pie. Harry takes it and realizes it has a message written in chocolate.

My love for you is like pi, irrational but infinite.

“You are such a nerd.” Harry starts laughing, because he doesn't know what else to do with everything he's feeling. He looks at Peter, he has flushed cheeks and a shy smile.

“Please say something.”

“Pete, no one has ever done anything this nice for me before.” He puts the pie down on one of the couches. “I know I was drunk last night, but everything I said is still true. I'm more than in love with you.”

“Is that your way of saying you want to be my Spider-Boyfriend?” He laughs and hugs Peter in a way they've never done before, as if there's always been a barrier they've been afraid to break.

“I can't even be mad because I'm the one who came up with the name.” He looks up, hands on Peter's waist. “But, wait, yesterday you said, well, Spider-Man said he has a boyfriend.”

“It was a little creative freedom.” Peter looks at his lips. “I was talking about you.”

“And when we were at your house?”

“Before you ran off thinking I had a crush on some woman? Still talking about you.”

“Shit, I'm so stupid.” But the fears are fading, there are no doubts, no anguish, no desire to disappear, Peter really feels the same. So, he finally summons up the courage to ask what he's wanted since the first time he saw him. “Pete, can I kiss you?” Peter nods, leaves one hand on his waist but the other goes to the back of his neck. He slowly approaches, kisses him gently for about five seconds. Then they do it with desperation and no elegance.

This is so much better than in his fantasies or any kiss he's ever had in his life before.

Peter begins to caress Harry's back, the voracious kissing increasing.

“Do you think it would be a good idea to call Jonah to report that Spider-Man is an excellent kisser?” Peter laughs, his face even redder than before. “You're a great kisser, casanova.”

“You're just trying to make me nervous.”

“Is it working?" Harry smiles, amused.

“A lot.”Peter steals another kiss, slow but shorter than the first. “But you're a better kisser than me, prince.”

“When you don't use the accent, that nickname sounds pretty good.” Harry kisses him again, loses track of time, space, reality and sadness. “I hope this isn't a dream.”

“It isn't.” Peter strokes his cheek. “But if it were, I'd meet you again in the real world.”

“Wow, okay, that's a good line.” They both laugh, Harry kisses him again, as if he suddenly can't do anything else.

“You know, May said we made a cute couple.”

“Did she? My dad thought we were dating all through high school.”

“What? You didn't told him anything?”

“Well, first he could tell by the way I looked at you and invited you home too much or went to your house. Before you I didn't do that with anyone. Then came the dances we went to together...”

“Damn, I forgot to tell you in my speech that I wanted us to make out in the limo too.” Harry laughs, grabs Peter's face and kisses him passionately, just the way he wanted to on those nights. “Sorry, I interrupted you.”

“There's not much to say, dad was excited that you would be part of the family, I guess he already suspected I was gay for a while and seeing me with you made it real. I didn't have the heart to tell him you would never fall in love with me. Or well, that's what I thought before.”

“I've always liked you.  But I didn't realize it until you told me you were going to Europe. My heart broke and MJ broke up with me too. She told me it was obvious that I was, that I'm in love with you. And suddenly it all made sense but you were leaving and you looked excited so I didn't want to ruin anything for you. Maybe I should have stopped you.”

“Yeah, you should have.” Harry kisses him on the cheek. “But now we're here.”

“And it's wonderful.” Peter kisses him on the lips. “I'm so sorry I didn't tell you about me being Spider-Man last night.”

“But why didn't you say anything to me?”

“I almost did, but I regretted it at the last minute. And I was afraid that everything you were saying was just a drunken thing or that if I confessed to you my identity and how I felt, you'd forget it in the morning. Or that you would hate me because our first kiss would taste like puke.”

“You know me so well. Even though the kisses taste like burgers.”

“But it's your favorite food.” Peter takes it by the hand. “Do you still want to go get your car? We could stay here and eat that tasty pie. It's May's recipe but I don't think I got it as good.”

“Let's get the car, I'll take you on our first date, we'll do your whole plan.” Harry grabs the pie from the couch. “We'll keep this in the fridge and when we get back we'll eat it, watch movies in my room and make the most of all the lost time.” He runs a hand down Peter's cheek, moves it down his chest and leaves it on his belt buckle. He pulls his face closer while still making eye contact, pinks his lips without kissing him yet, and then pulls away, with a sexy smirk.

“Okay.”Peter smiles, nervous and blushing. He takes the pie out of his hands and carries it into the kitchen. “Ready to go to our first date, Spider-Boyfriend?”

“As ready as I'll ever be.” They share another kiss before leaving the penthouse and as he walks hand in hand with his boyfriend, Harry thinks his life isn't so unfortunate after all.