Chapter Text
Harry’s debut as Spider-Man was a selfish act, make no mistake. It was just another way for him to prove his superiority. Just another way to desperately grasp at the attention he lacked. Just another way to make his father see him for once. Or was it? Because all of that sounded stupid and pathetic, while swinging through the city like some kind of superhero was anything but pathetic. For the first time in his life Harry felt free. Free from the expectations that weighed on his shoulders like whispering devils. No, the moment he put the mask on he wasn’t Harry Osborn anymore. He was just Spider-Man.
Harry saved people because he could. He liked seeing the look of gratitude on their faces. He loved hearing their praise. A sketchy motivation, at best, but at least he was doing something good with it, right? There was truly no better feeling than looking around New York and seeing people who could be dead right now going about their lives as if nothing had happened. He did that. He had that kind of power. And it felt good. Really good.
But with Spider-Man’s daring deeds came publicity. It wasn’t as if it was the first time Harry had been in the paper. His father was very well known, after all, and Harry could always be found lurking somewhere in his shadow. But this was the first time Harry had made it there on his own. At first, he was excited. That excitement quickly vanished when he happened upon the Daily Bugle.
The front page read, “Spider-Man: New York’s Greatest Threat” with a picture of Spider-Man webbing a crook to the side of a building. He opened it to read the article only to be met with, “you gonna pay for that?”
Harry looked up to see the boy who was selling the newspapers giving him a look. Harry rolled his eyes and passed the kid a twenty. “Keep the change.”
“Oh! Thank you, mister!”
Harry just grunted and walked away, his face already pressed close enough to the paper that he could smell the ink.
The article was full of baloney. J. Jonah Jameson claimed that Spider-Man was attacking civilians without reason, and assisting the very crimes Harry knew he was preventing. The only “evidence” provided were pictures taken completely out of context. It was so obviously false, but Harry couldn’t help his fists from clenching the newspaper with a grip strong enough to tear it.
“These bastards don’t know how good they have it,” he thought. “I have the power to destroy them, but I choose to help them. And this is the thanks I get for it? Unbelievable!”
He shoved the newspaper into the next trashcan he passed and took a deep breath. It was fine. This JJJ guy was a fool, and Harry was going to make sure he looked like the fool he was. What good would his article be without his so called “evidence?” How could Spider-Man be put on the front page without a front-page worthy picture?
Harry found out quickly that he was very good at dodging cameras. As he grew more accustomed to his spider-sense, he became much more aware of his surroundings. He could feel eyes on him. He could feel the camera lenses on him. So, he dodged. He webbed the cameras. He threw the cameras. And suddenly Spider-Man became infamously hard to photograph. His pictures disappeared from the front pages of, not only the Daily Bugle, but every other newspaper publisher as well. His videos disappeared from the news. He became a mystery. Oddly enough, this gave him even more attention. Everyone was talking about him. Everyone except the person he had hoped would notice the most.
Harry and his father lived together. You would think this meant they saw each other all the time, but that wasn’t really true. Norman always had some meeting or other to keep him away from Harry, even at dinner. But not tonight. Tonight they were finally together. They sat across from each other in the dining room, while Harry watched his dad eat in silence. He wanted to talk to him about something, anything. But what? What could he ask without looking ridiculous? He felt ridiculous.
“How was work?” Harry finally asked.
“It was fine,” Norman replied, without looking up.
Harry frowned.
“Any interesting projects recently?”
“That’s classified.”
“I know.” Harry stared down at his food, which he had hardly touched at all, as he began to remember why he had begun to prefer eating alone.
Norman finally looked up at him. “What about you?”
“Huh?”
“How was school?”
“School ended months ago. You were there at graduation,” Harry reminded him.
“Right, that’s right. I’m sorry Harry, I must have forgotten,” his dad replied, waving his hand dismissively. “What are you up to now?”
“Not much.”
“Sure, you are! Meet any nice girls recently?”
“No.”
“Don’t tell me you’re still hung up on that redhead,” Norman replied with a stern look. “I told you, she’s no good.”
“She’s Peter’s girl,” Harry reminded him.
“But you still want her, don’t you?”
Harry felt his heart clench in his chest. He wanted to tell his dad how he really felt so badly. He didn’t like MJ. He had never liked MJ. It was Peter. It had always been Peter. It hurt just how wrong his father was about him, but Harry was too scared to correct him. What would Norman say if he knew Harry was in love with another man? He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t want to find out. Not now. He didn’t have the energy.
Instead, Harry just said, “not anymore.”
Norman smiled a bit. “Well, that’s good at least. You deserve a nice girl.”
“Right,” Harry replied.
Norman turned back to his food and the silence began to descend between them once again. Harry wanted it to, but there was a part of him that just refused.
“Have you been reading the newspapers lately?” he blurted.
“What? The newspaper?” His dad said, looking back up. “Are you talking about that man spider?”
“His name is Spider-Man.”
“Whatever. He’s a joke.”
“What?” Harry felt his heart sink to his feet.
“He’s just a freak in a Halloween costume who thinks he’s some kind of hero for meddling in other people’s business.”
“So, you think he’s a menace?”
“He’s not a menace. He’s a nuisance! He should leave the crime to the police before he does something stupid and ruins his media presence. Not that he’ll take any personal accountability. Why do you think he wears that mask? He’s a coward.”
“If the police showed up sooner the city wouldn’t need a Spider-Man,” Harry replied.
Norman stood up. “Don’t tell me you’re defending that clown! I thought I had raised you better, Harry. Once again you do nothing but disappoint me.”
Harry was shocked. He hadn’t expected his dad to care this much about Spider-Man, of all things. And if this is how he acted now, what would he say if he knew Harry was Spider-Man? He didn’t want to think about it.
“I’m not defending him!” Harry replied, standing up to match him.
“Then what are you doing?”
What was he doing? Harry didn’t know. He could feel tears beginning to well in his eyes. He needed to get out of there. He couldn’t let Norman see him crying. Not now. Not after this.
“May I be excused?” Harry asked, staring at the floor.
“Please,” his father replied, sitting back down.
Harry left the room without even bothering to push in his chair.
He didn’t want to face the overwhelming feeling of dread that hung over his head like a dark cloud, so Harry went straight into his bedroom. He stripped off all the clothes he wore over his suit and pulled his mask over his face before jumping out of his window and letting the cool, night air of the city absorb him.
Harry swung through the city without any particular direction. He had done this so many times that, by now, he didn’t even have to think about it. He let his muscle memory take over, choosing instead to focus on the feeling of the air moving past him. That wonderful feeling of falling just to fly again.
So, maybe his dad didn’t like Spider-Man. Maybe JJJ didn’t like Spider-Man. So what? Harry loved being Spider-Man, and in the end that’s all that mattered, right? It wasn’t as if anyone he rescued had ever been ungrateful. He was doing a good thing, after all. Maybe one of these days he’d have the opportunity to save his father from certain death, and then Norman might finally understand.
“Or, you could create such an opportunity yourself.” The stray thought entered Harry’s head completely unwelcome. It was startling enough that his web nearly missed the building it luckily managed to attach to. After the initial alarm faded he was left only with a sticky since of shame. If he wanted his father’s approval, he needed to earn it the right way. But how? He felt as if he had tried everything at this point.
Harry’s train of thought was derailed by a familiar tingling sensation in the back of his skull. He stuck himself to the wall of the building he had been swinging by and looked down to investigate. He nearly fell right back down once he realized who was looking up at him. It was Peter. Peter Parker. He stood on the sidewalk, holding a camera.
Harry knew exactly what he should’ve done. He should’ve destroyed it with as little hesitance as he had destroyed all the other cameras and moved on with his day. But he just couldn’t do it.
Instead, Harry shot a web at it and pulled it all the way up to where he caught it perfectly with his other hand. Peter looked at him in shock. Harry dangled it in front of him precariously, with a smirk that he realized Peter would not be able to see.
“Are you looking for this?” he asked.
Harry jumped off the wall he had been stuck to and launched himself towards the park. Peter took off running after him, shouting, “hey, I spent my life savings on that camera! Give it back!”
Swinging one handed turned out to be pretty difficult, but Harry managed to do it by making way too many pit stops. Finally, he reached the park. He perched on one of the larger trees, just out of Peter’s reach. Peter appeared not long afterward, red-faced and more out of breath than Harry had ever seen him. Harry took that moment to get a better look at his old friend. Peter looked the same as ever. Sweaty brown hair, crooked glasses, and a blue button-up shirt that was now soaking wet.
“I know you don’t like having your picture taken,” Peter managed to get in between gasps for air. “I’m sorry. Can I have my camera back now, please?” He extended one hand hopefully, the other hand resting on his leg to keep himself from falling over.
Harry had always stood up for Peter against Flash, and the other bullies, but in that moment he began to understand why they did it. It was oddly fun to see him like this. And then Harry’s shame came right back, and he realized that was a horrible thing to think.
“Why do you and the other paparazzi want my picture so bad, anyway?” Spider-Man asking, tilting his head to one side.
“Well, J. Jonah Jameson is offering a lot for them, so…” Peter trailed off. “Me and my family are in a pretty bad place right now. I could really use the money, is all.”
Harry was glad Peter couldn’t see him roll his eyes. Peter’s family was always doing poorly, and yet he never let Harry help him. He didn’t accept money, or any other support from him. He insisted that he had to do it himself. That it was his responsibility. It made Harry feel useless. Money was really the only thing he had, and if Peter didn’t want that, then there was no reason for Peter to hang around him at all. That was probably why Harry hadn’t seen him even once since they graduated.
But as Peter looked up at him with pleading eyes, Harry began to realize something. Harry couldn’t help him, sure, but Spider-Man could.
“J. Jonah Jameson is a fraud,” Spider-Man replied. “He accuses me of the wildest crimes without a lick of evidence.”
“I know,” Peter replied sheepishly. “It’s a silly request. I understand if you don’t want me to take your picture. I just want the camera back.”
“You don’t think I’m a menace?”
“No, of course not!” Peter looked very offended that he would even ask that question. “You’re a hero! You use your powers to save people, even though no one ever asked you to. You put your life on the line all the time for people you’ve never met. I can’t think of anything more noble than that.”
Harry’s heart fluttered at this despite himself. He knew his life had never really been on the line throughout all of this, but he decided to accept the praise anyway.
“Oh stop, you’re gonna give me a big head,” Spider-Man said, waving his hand.
“It’s true!” Peter retorted.
“Fine, I’ll let you take your little pictures,” Spider-Man concluded.
Shock filled Peter’s face. “What?! Really?! Just like that? But why? You know I’m going to sell them to JJJ.”
“He’s full of shit,” Spider-Man replied. “As long as you don’t take any pictures of me with my hand in the cookie jar no one will believe him.”
“Oh, okay then!” Peter replied.
Spider-Man tossed Peter the camera, which he nearly dropped but managed to catch. “So, where do you want me?”
“What?”
“You’re the photographer,” Spider-Man replied with a shrug. “You tell me what to do.”
“You’re saying you’re going to pose for me?”
“Why not? If I’m going to be on the front page I better look good.”
“You always look good.” Peter’s voice was so low Harry was surprised he managed to even make out what he said. Or had he made it out right? Because it sounded awfully flirtatious, and Harry was not that lucky. Besides, Peter had a girlfriend. Harry must have misheard.
Peter took a quick look around the park before pointing towards the tree over by the center of the park.
“That tree is pretty tall! I bet I could get some good shots of you swinging from it. Ooh!” Peter turned and pointed to one of the streetlamps on the edge of the park. “I could get one of you perched up there! Oh, and,” Peter pointed to the awning of the pizza shop across the street, “You could sit up there and eat a pizza!”
“I don’t know about the pizza,” Spider-Man admitted.
“Aww, why not?”
“I’m kind of wearing a mask over here,” Spider-Man reminded him, poking himself playfully in the mouth.
“Right, right,” Peter replied sheepishly. “You could hold the pizza!”
“That wouldn’t even make sense.”
“Okay fine, no pizza. Just go get ready over by that tree. I’ll give you the signal when I’ve found a good camera position.”
“Whatever you say, Mr. Photographer!”
“My name is Peter.”
“Okay, Peter!”
Harry jumped out of the tree he had perched in, did a backflip, and then swung himself over to the other tree where Peter was getting ready. After a few moments Peter gave him a thumbs up. Harry webbed the tree and swung towards Peter, making sure to strike a cool pose mid-air. That shot took them quite a few tries. Finally, Peter found one he was satisfied with.
“There we go!” he said, pumping his fist in the air in celebration.
“Can I see? Can I see?” Spider-Man asked, swinging over to peer at the camera over Peter’s shoulder. Harry saw himself perfectly in focus, in a pose that looked even cooler than he had imagined it. God, he loved being Spider-Man.
Peter stumbled forward and hid the camera, his face turning oddly red.
“I did my best. You were going pretty fast so most of them came out really blurry.”
“Don’t be so modest,” Spider-Man protested, giving him a friendly nudge on the shoulder. “That was the best picture of me I’ve ever seen!”
Peter seemed to perk up at this. “Oh, okay! Let’s do another one.”
Harry expected the picture with the streetlight to take much less time, but Peter found so many things to nitpick. At one point Harry had to find an entirely different streetlight because Peter was done trying to deal with all the glare in the background. After that they took a few more pictures around the edge of the park before Peter seemed satisfied.
“That should be enough for now,” he said. “Hopefully it’ll be enough to cover Uncle Ben’s car repair.”
“If you ever need more, just let me know. They don’t call me your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man for nothing, you know?” Spider-Man replied from where he hung upside-down on a tree.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” Peter asked. “I don’t understand it at all.”
Harry hesitated. For all Peter was concerned, Spider-Man had never met him before. And really, Spider-Man never had met him before. This was Harry’s chance at a fresh start to their relationship. A way for him to spend time with Peter without all the complications with his father and with MJ. This whole photo shoot had just made Harry realize why he had fallen so in love with Peter in the first place. There was something about his bright eyes and his dorky enthusiasm that Harry just adored. He missed it. He missed Peter.
“What is it you said, that I always rescue people who didn’t ask me to?” Spider-Man recalled. “Well, maybe this time I wanted to help someone, even though they asked.”
Peter just looked confused. Clearly this reply did not dismiss any of his questions.
“Well, I have to run now. And by run, I mean swing! A hero’s duty is never over, yada yada, you get it. See you around Peter! Just don’t tell JJJ about this, okay? It can be our secret. Okay, bye!” and with that Spider-Man sprung off without any further explanation.
Harry’s heart felt oddly warm, and he couldn’t hold back the smile that formed behind his mask. “Oh god. What the hell did I get myself into?”