summary:
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Graduation may be an ending, but you can't have endings without new beginnings.

(This is the Spider-Man 2017 cartoon)

Warning: sexual content 

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It was a great day to graduate. The sun was shining, it wasn't too hot or too cold, and the humidity was low enough that it didn't feel sticky. All in all, it felt like the universe was just as proud of him for managing to graduate as Aunt May was. Doubly so when nothing Spider-Man worthy showed up on his patrol. He was able to get a good night's sleep and a healthy portion of wheat cakes in the morning. Peter hoped the rest of the day would go just as smoothly.

May fiddled with his tie and the collar of his graduation gown for what felt like the thousandth time before they left the house and he had to bat her hands away from him.

"Come on, it's fine. We're gonna be late. I have to be there early for line up."

"Oh!" May chirped with faux surprise, lifting her hands away from his outfit. "So once he's done with high school the famous Peter Benjamin Parker finally cares about punctuality?"

Peter just laughed awkwardly because he honestly had no retort. She smoothed down his collar once more then cupped his face and smiled up at him. He still wasn't used to being taller than her. She'd always seemed so large and invincible when he was a kid, it felt odd having to look down at her.

"I'm so proud of you, sweetheart."

Peter smiled, taking her hands into his own.

"I know, Aunt May."

"Ben would be proud of you too."

His smile softened, and he looked off to the side, where a picture of the three of them hung on the wall.

"I wish he could be here."

"He is here, Peter," she placed a hand on his shoulder rubbing it soothingly, "and he's so proud of you."

Peter shook himself a little, he needed to lighten up, if not for his own sake, then for May's.

"Come on," he let go of her hands and grabbed the car keys out of the bowl by the door, "I'm supposed to meet up with Harry and the others for pictures before we have to line up."

She laughed and followed him out, closing the door behind them.

When they reached the tents set up at the edge of Horizon's property, it seemed most of their graduating class had already arrived. A sea of young adults in black robes milled around the area in a way that reminded Peter of a school of fish. Everyone was chatting, taking photos, getting ready for the ceremony.

"Do you know where you're meeting your friends, Peter?" May asked, scanning the crowd for a familiar face.

"I'm not entirely sure, I'll ask."

Peter pulled out his phone, tapping out a quick message to their group chat. It turned out to be unnecessary, however, when a familiar voice called out from his left.

"Late as usual, Parker." Harry sauntered out from under one of the tents. Peter grinned, meeting him halfway and holding his hand out for a fist bump.

"It doesn't count if it's just late for being early."

Harry returned the greeting.

"It does if it means I have to wait for you in three layers of black polyester." He took his cap off and fanned himself with it. Peter rolled his eyes, Harry still looked immaculate, he was barely sweating.

"I think you'll live," he teased, shoving Harry's shoulder playfully.

"That's what you think, it says on my packaging I'll melt if left at room temperature." He tugged his cap back on and turned to wave at May as she stepped up to join them. "Hi, Mrs. Parker."

May smiled at him in that warm way only she could.

"Good evening, Harry Dear, you look very handsome today."

Harry went red around the ears and ducked his head slightly as he scratched at the back of his neck.

"Yeah? I just pulled out one of the suits I use for Oscorp business."

"Well, it's very dashing."

Peter almost felt bad as he watched Harry struggle for words. May had a smile that could make a super-villain rethink their entire moral ethics. After a moment of watching him flounder Peter decided to come to his rescue.

"You know where everyone else is?" He asked.

"Hm?" Harry turned his attention back to Peter. "Oh yeah, they're waiting for us over by the fountains, past the tents." He gestured behind them with a thumb. "I offered to wait up here for Mr. Chronically Tardy."

"How noble of you," Peter griped. "We should go meet up with them."

"Let me get a picture of the two of you first." May lifted her camera and gestured for them to squeeze together. Harry threw his arm around Peter's shoulders and pulled him flush against his side as he grinned into the camera, Peter mirrored him as the camera clicked. This close up Peter caught a whiff of the cologne Harry was wearing. It was pleasantly spicy and he had to stop himself from leaning further into Harry's space to follow the scent.

"You don't feel as bulky as usual," Harry commented, patting Peter's shoulder and snapping him out of his thoughts. "Did you actually leave the second skin at home for once?"

"It's in the car," Peter admitted, "but I didn't want to wear it for the ceremony."

"Wow, I feel like that's some kind of breakthrough," Harry teased. "Should I have gotten you a present?"

"Very funny," Peter chuckled, elbowing him lightly in the ribs.

"I'm just relieved I don't have to worry about you getting heat stroke because you insist on wearing skin tight spandex under all this." Harry tugged playfully on the collar of his gown and the suit underneath.

"Well, if a superhero can't enjoy his own graduation what's the point."

"It's funny," Peter's eyes snapped up as May spoke, for a second worrying that she'd heard what they were saying, but she was gazing fondly down at the camera in her hands, "you boys look so grown up now. I remember when you were both nine years old getting cuts and bruises from roughhousing in the backyard."

Harry's arm slid further around his shoulders as he leaned in to mutter in Peter's ear.

"Yeah, now we're eighteen getting cuts and bruises fighting bad guys." Peter had to hold back his laughter to keep May from asking questions. "Come on." Harry took his arm back and stepped away, Peter immediately missed the warmth. "Let's go find the others and get more pictures."

There wasn't much time to chat after that. They met up with the rest of their friends and posed for what felt like a thousand photos, smiling wide as each set of families took their turn. Then they quickly took their places in line and the ceremony began.

Max stood up from his place seated with the rest of the faculty onstage, smoothing out his robes and approaching the podium and microphone set at the front of the stage. He tapped it once to make sure it was working and the sound caused all the chattering to die down immediately.

"Thank you, everyone, for coming out today to celebrate this year's graduating class," Max began, leaning into the microphone and smiling wide. "There are many amazing young minds in this crowd today, and I have to say I'm sad to see you go, but it has been my honor to be a part of your journey these last four years. Now without further notice, let's begin."

There were three people seated between him and Harry, and honestly he cursed the fact that Michelle Oswald, Tristan Owens, and Lilly Page had ever decided to go to this school. As excited as he was to graduate, this ceremony was boring, and listening to speech after speech would be a lot more fun if he and Harry could whisper to each other the whole time. Harry caught his eye and winked, before turning back to pretend he was listening. After years of father-son bonding time via boring business meetings, Harry had perfected the art of looking like you're listening when your brain is really on Mars. The glazed look in his eye was only obvious because of how long they'd known each other. Peter smiled to himself as he wondered what project Harry was working on in his head.

Peter scanned the rows of hats and gowns to pick out their other friends. Anya was in the front row as Valedictorian, Miles was two rows in front of them, turning around would draw too much attention but he knew Gwen was somewhere behind them. His search was cut off as Max replaced the speaker at the microphone once more.

"And now," Max began, placing his hands on the edge of the podium, "it is my honor to introduce this year's commencement speaker—Horizon's Valedictorian, Anya Corazon."

Applause rippled through the crowd as Anya moved to take the podium, brushing her hair out of her eyes as she adjusted the papers set there.

"Thank you, Max." Her voice echoed through the speakers as she turned to smile pleasantly at Max, before turning back to address the crowd, "and thank you fellow students of Horizon High,

"It is my honor to stand before you today to talk about my time at this school. Graduation is always bittersweet, today is the last day we can call ourselves students of Horizon, this school that's been like a second home to so many of us. We more than most have experienced so many outlandish things during our four years of high school. Not all of which were bad. For example, we all witnessed the rise of New York's own Spider-Man, a hero and role model to so many."

Anya paused cheers erupted from the crowd around him, her head tilted in his direction and Peter suddenly felt like there was a spotlight directly on him, heating his ears with pleased embarrassment as his peers unknowingly applauded him. And maybe it was imagination, but he thought he felt the faint prickle of eyes on him, coming from his left where Harry sat.

"All of us have had many hardships over the years." Anya continued as the cheering died down to Peter's immense relief. "We've lost teachers, friends, family members, but those not here to celebrate with us today are honored by our dedication to moving forward. Horizon students are some of the most determined people I've ever met. From the time that we were freshman we've been through break ins, theft, evacuations, villains, monster attacks, studying for finals at home while they rebuild the school again," a wave of laughter rolled through the crowd and up on stage Max scratched at his beard embarrassedly. "And every single person sitting here made it through that, and we're all stronger because of it.

Some of us have made life-long connections here. I for one, met my wonderful girlfriend, who has been an amazing inspiration for me these last four years," Peter smiled to himself. He couldn't see Gwen seated behind him, but he was absolutely sure she'd gone as red as a tomato. "As well as many friendships I hope will stay with me for a lifetime.

"Some of you will go off to college, some may already have jobs lined up, others have plans I would never even have thought of, but I know one thing for sure: All of you will do something amazing.

"We tend to think of graduation as an ending, a closing era of our lives. The end of our time at Horizon, of seeing our friends every day, of tinkering around with projects to create whatever our hearts desired, but it's not. Graduation is a time for new beginnings. It's an opening door to all the adventures we'll have in our futures. The people we'll meet, the stuff we'll do, the things we'll feel. It may be the end of our time at Horizon, but is the beginning of all of our futures, and I can't wait to see what each and every one of us will become."

Anya fell silent, and a roar of applause picked up from the crowd. Peter cheered for her along with everyone else, following her as she thanked them and left the stage to reclaim her spot at the head of the class. As the applause faded, the words of Anya's speech hung in his mind with a significant weight he couldn't quite comprehend. He glanced to his left, where Harry was seated three chairs away, then just as quickly looked away, ears burning red even though he had no reason to be embarrassed.

The rest of the ceremony passed in a bit of a blur as he wrestled with the nervous, fluttery feeling that had taken residence in the pit of his stomach.

Walking across the stage to accept his diploma from a beaming Max while his peers clapped and his friends whooped for him from their seats in the crowd felt like living a kind of dream. He realized as he stepped into place behind Lilly Page and stared down at his diploma that he hadn't expected to get this far. His life rarely went this smoothly, and he wouldn't have batted an eye if some baddie swooped in to smash up the stage and he missed the entire ceremony chasing after them. There was something oddly affirming about making it through the whole thing, that despite everything that happens to him, sometimes things went right. He glanced at Harry again.

And then it was over.

Their class filtered out row by row, spilling into the crowd to meet family and congratulate friends. Peter lost sight of Harry as people closed in around him. He took off his cap, wiping sweat from his forehead before he began worming his way through the crowd to find Aunt May or any of his friends.

He finally caught sight of them bundled towards the edge of the crowd and made his way towards them. Harry was absent from the group.

"Guys!" He waved, picking his way towards them. "I thought I'd never find you."

"There you are," Anya laughed, settling the hand not currently intertwined with Gwen's on her hip. "I thought we'd lost you forever."

"Oh, ha ha." Before he could retort further he was swept up into a tight hug by a pair of familiar arms.

"I'm so proud of you, Peter," May said, pulling him down to plant a kiss on his forehead.

"Thanks, May," he returned her hug for just a moment before pulling back to face his friend's again.

He returned the hive five from Miles and hugged both Gwen and Anya. Harry still hadn't joined them. Peter did a quick scan of the crowd to try and pinpoint him, but it was hard to pick out individuals in the sea of caps and gowns.

"Has anyone seen Harry?" He asked.

Anya gestured with her thumb over her shoulder to a little path that led back into the grove of trees that lined the small park.

"He said something about needing a minute away from the crowd."

"I'm gonna go find him." He touched his aunt on the shoulder as he passed and she gave him a smile before resuming her conversation with Gwen.

Once he was at the opening of the trees he could see the path actually curved and lead up a hill. He couldn't see Harry immediately so he started up the hill. It was a very pretty walk, the trees were lush with new green leaves and flowers were just starting to bloom along the path in all different colors. It was the kind of place you'd bring a date you really wanted to impress.

When he reached the top of the hill Harry was there, sitting on a lone bench, his gown unzipped and his cap set next to him.

"I was wondering where you disappeared to." He called out, Harry startled and turned towards him. "I thought for sure some baddie came along and you ditched me to take all the glory for yourself." A smile spread across Harry's face and he sat forward, resting his arms across his knees.

"That'd be a change, me ditching you for once," he laughed. "Like I'd give up the chance to watch you get your ass kicked by the same five villains." Peter reached him and sat down on the other side of the bench.

"If I recall, I think we're usually both on the receiving end of those butt kickings."

"Only because you're holding me back."

"Ha! Well you're welcome to go solo if I'm that much of a drag."

"Nah," Harry crossed his arms, "wouldn't be any fun without you."

Peter smiled.

"What are you doing up here anyway?"

"Just... thinking I guess. Anya's speech was really good."

"Yeah."

Harry leaned back against the bench, propping his arms up on the back as he gazed out at the view.

"It's still kinda weird graduating from Horizon. I didn't have to come back here, I technically got my diploma from Oz Academy."

"And yet here you are." Peter said fondly.

"And yet here I am."

Peter watched him for a moment. The last couple years of school wouldn't have been nearly as kind if Harry hadn't been there to greet him every day and tease him.

"I know I've said it before, but I'm really glad you decided to come back to Horizon. After everything— It was nice having you around. Getting through highschool together like we always planned."

Harry hummed and briefly closed his eyes.

"We've been through a lot these past four years, huh?"

Peter stared at Harry's profile for a moment, before shifting his gaze to the scenery before them.

"We sure have."

Harry chuckled, low with amusement at some joke only he knew, and it washed over him with warmth and familiarity.

"You know what, Pete? I think we did alright."

Peter turned to look at him again and his voice got caught somewhere in his throat. Whatever response or quip he was planning never made it passed his lips. The intense setting sun caught on his hair and skin like liquid gold, eyes soft and relaxed as he looked out across the park.

They made it. Four years of grief, villains, and Spider-man. Of fighting, nearly dying, and making up. Four years of everything that could possibly go wrong going wrong , and they still made it. And Harry was still here. And, God, he was beautiful. That thing that had been hovering just out of his reach all day clicked into place, like the last piece of a puzzle revealing the full image on top.

Harry caught his eye and smiled, bright and warm and everything. They were sitting close enough that their legs were touching. Close enough that if he leaned forward just a bit he could press their lips together. Maybe it was the graduation, or the flowers, or the sunset, but his brain felt like honey. And it was gonna get weird if he didn't say something soon but every word in the English language was suddenly slipping through his fingers to the point that talking seemed impossible anyway. And he really wanted to kiss Harry.

So he did.

Harry froze against him. Reality crashed back in and Peter pulled away, snatching himself back over the line he'd just crossed.

"I-" his voice cracked and he coughed, "sorry, I- I just- I thought- I don't know why I-"

"Peter." He shut his jaw with a click and his eyes snapped back up to Harry, closer than he was before and smouldering with something Peter couldn't quite comprehend. "Just... shut up a minute."

Harry leaned closer, until there was only a whisper of space between them and he could practically feel electricity passing between their skin. Harry's hand brushed against his, touch gentle and barely even there. More sparks.

Then Harry was kissing him back.

This was happening. Holy shit, this was happening. Peter had just a second to panic at the weight of this, at what it might mean for the future, for them. Then Harry sighed through his nose and reached a hand up to cup his face and all rational thought flew from Peter's mind as his eyes slid closed and his body took over.

They kissed for what felt like ages. Like they were the only two people left in this park, in the world. Just the two of them like always. But now Harry was biting at his lower lip in a way that made his head spin and a new door was opening up. One he'd hid behind a curtain and refused to think about. One he thought was sealed shut.

Eventually the kiss slowed into a gentle press of lips and unsteady breaths before Harry pulled back entirely letting his fingers brush across Peter's neck. Peter's eyes slid open, Harry's face was pleasantly flushed and his crisp, neatly pressed collar was crumpled. Peter opened his mouth to say something, how amazing Harry was, how much he appreciated him, maybe ask what this meant for them, for the future. All that came out was:

"Wow."

Harry blinked at him once then barked out a laugh.

"Wow? That's all you have to say? 'Wow'?" His laughter rang out around them like music, spreading warmth from somewhere inside Peter's chest, he couldn't bring himself to care that he was being teased. Harry wheezed once more and looked at him. On the bench below their fingers twined together. "Typical Parker."

Peter wanted to say something, but Harry kissed him again, and god he would never speak again if it meant Harry would just keep kissing him like this.

"Hey guys, I just wanted to tell you— Oh!"

Harry and Peter jumped back from each other, and it was a good thing they were outside because otherwise Peter would have been clinging to the ceiling.

He turned to see Anya with her hand half raised and shock written across her face. As he watched, her expression melted into something decidedly more smug, strangling any hope he had that maybe she hadn't seen what she'd just seen.

"Well, I was coming to tell you we're all moving inside for the reception, but I can see you're... busy." She turned on her heel and flipped her hair over her shoulder, marching back down the hill with a distinct bounce in her step. Peter made a distressed noise and reached out as if to call her back, then realized he had no idea what to say and slumped back against the bench.

Movement drew his eye as Harry turned towards him. For a moment, they just looked at each other, then they both burst out laughing.

"So much for subtly," Harry cackled, "aren't you supposed to have a Spider-sense?"

"It doesn't work like that," he squawked in between gasps, "and I was preoccupied."

A self-satisfied look crossed Harry's face, not unlike the one Anya had worn a second ago, so Peter punched him in the arm—carefully though, because spider-strength. They stared at each other in a mock stand-off before they both dissolved into giggles once more.

"I guess we should go down and face the music." Harry said when their laughter died down.

"Any chance Anya didn't tell the rest of our friend group that she caught us sucking face in the light of the sunset?" He stood up and offered Harry a hand, pulling him up from the bench.

"We're not normally that lucky."

They started down the hill. Neither of them released the hand Peter offered, leaving their fingers laced and warming him from the inside out. A small thought rested over his brain like a blanket that, maybe, he was pretty lucky.

"A spider can dream."

Their friends were waiting for them at the bottom of the hill, most of the crowd had already filter back into the buildings. One look at their friends all trying and failing to hold back grins told him that, yeah, they really weren't that lucky. The squirmy ball of excited energy held out until they were at the bottom of the hill, but if anyone was planning to play coy, the sight of their intertwined hands burst the dam and everyone closed in around them.

"Oh my god!"

"When did this happen?"

"Was this like a spur of the moment thing or have you guys been secretly dating behind our backs?"

Peter felt his entire face heat up and reached up to scratch the back of his head.

"Uh... Spur of the moment thing." He wasn't even sure if they were technically dating now, they hadn't had that conversation yet. The hand-holding would suggest something but that's the kind of thing you need to have a conversation about. Were they dating now? He glanced over at Harry only to catch him already looking and turn away, even redder than before. He really hoped they were.

"Aw," Gwen snuck up behind them placed a hand on each of their heads, ruffling affectionately. "I'm so happy for you dorks." Peter batted her away playfully.

"Alright," Anya said, breaking the interrogation circle, "we should go join the others. But we're getting all the details out of you later." She winked at them the set off towards the school. Peter rubbed the back of his neck and followed her. Harry still didn't let go of his hand.

The inside of the school gymnasium was packed. Everyone from family members, to friends, to job scouts came to mingle with the graduates. Somewhere along the line, he and Harry got separated as different people pulled them aside, but he figured they'd find each other eventually.

Peter picked his way over to the refreshments table to pour himself some punch, he took a sip and the watered down fruity taste really punctuated the air of high school celebration. He grabbed a cookie for good measure.

"So, how does it feel to officially be a high school graduate?" Peter turned around to find Max beaming at him.

"Pretty good, not gonna lie." Peter tipped his plastic cup towards Max. "It was pretty touch and go there sometimes but I made it through."

"I never had any doubts." Max's large hand came down on his shoulder, a solid and comforting weight that reminded him of when he was a kid and Uncle Ben would hang his As on the fridge. "You're a great kid and you have a bright future ahead of you."

Over Max's shoulder Peter caught sight of Harry, laughing freely at something someone said and he felt himself soften. He was Spider-Man. Life would always be hard for him. There would be days when he got beat up, and days where he felt useless, days where he couldn't save everyone. But with Harry, it didn't feel so overwhelming.

"Yeah, I think you're right."

"Who knows," Max laughed, "maybe you'll even end up teaching here one day."

"What?" Peter's attention snapped away from Harry and back to Max. "You'd really give me a job here?"

"Of course I would. After college, of course." He drew his hand back and planted it on his hip. "Provided you actually show up on time when you're teaching the classes."

They both laughed and Peter scratched the back of his head as Max wished him well and moved on to other students. It actually didn't sound too bad, teaching. After all, he taught Miles how to be Spider-Man. Maybe by then he'll figure out how to balance hero time with Peter time.

"You look happy," Peter perked up at the sound of Harry's voice, then winced a little at how instant the reaction was. He looked up to see Harry standing beside him, smirking. "Max didn't chew you out for graduating with the minimum possible attendance requirement?"

"Har har." He bumped Harry's shoulder with his own. "No—well, I mean kinda—but he actually said he'd offer me a job if I wanted to teach here after college." He grinned. "You know, if I can get my punctuality problem under control."

"It's hopeless then." Harry grabbed the cup from his hand and downed a gulp of the punch. Peter tried not to stare at his mouth while he did so. "But seriously, Pete, that's awesome. I bet you'd make a great teacher."

Peter shrugged, but the warm glow he felt under Harry's smile filled him up, and for a minute he felt like he could do anything. Harry took another sip of his punch and Peter wanted to kiss him—wow, did Peter want to kiss him—but there were a lot of people in the gym and a lot of wandering eyes, so he offered him a bite of his cookie instead.

The rest of the night was torture. The time went by in a slow blur of small talk and congratulations when all he wanted to do was sprint across the room and kiss Harry breathless. As the party wound to a close Peter was so busy pondering the possibility of getting a goodnight kiss out of Harry if he walked him to his car that he didn't notice someone else approaching until there was a tap on his shoulder and he nearly jumped out of his skin.

Harry's laughter sent a prick of embarrassment through him, but it was quickly washed over with warmth at his best friend's smile.

"Hey," Harry said simply.

"Hi."

They just watched each other for a moment, like neither of them were quite sure what to say.

"So," Harry finally started, "I'm pretty much done rubbing elbows here, and I was kinda hoping we could hang out. Wanna come back to my place?"

Peter startled, the thought that their night didn't have to end here hadn't even occurred to him.

"Yeah! Yeah, totally!" Harry smiled, warm and genuine, and Peter would never get tired of seeing him look like that. "Hold on," Peter placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, moving him aside slightly so he could peer behind him into the dwindling crowd of people still milling around the hall. "I just need to tell Aunt May where I'm going."

"You didn't have any special plans with her, did you?" Peter looked back at the tone in Harry's voice. He was wearing a small nervous frown, like he felt guilty at the idea that Peter might be blowing off plans for him. Peter smiled, lightly squeezing his hand where it still rested on Harry's shoulder.

"Not really," he said, "May wanted to take me out for dinner, but I didn't want to go anywhere to—uh—scheduled in case—" he drew back his hands, giving a vague gesture and an indistinct noise to represent having to ditch his aunt at dinner to fight a super-villain. The corner of Harry's mouth turned up like he was trying to fight his amusement. "So she won't mind doing it another day. Plus, she loves you," he added for good measure.

"If you say so," Harry said, but he looked more at ease than he had a second ago.

"Okay," Peter started, stepping backwards now that things were settled. "So I'll go find Aunt May," he gestured with a thumb behind him into the crowd, "and I'll meet you out front?"

Harry smiled at him fully, sliding his hands into his pockets.

"Sounds good, Pete."

Peter watched him for a couple more steps before the risk of running into someone forced him to turn and slip his way into the crowd.

It didn't take him long to find May. Even though there were still enough people to fill out the hall, the crowd had thinned enough to pick out individuals fairly easy. He spotted May towards the back of the room engaged in an animated conversation with Hector, Max's husband. Hector noticed his approach over May's shoulder and waved pleasantly.

"Peter," he chirped as Peter joined them, "Congratulations, dear boy."

"Thanks, Hector." Peter smiled, placing a hand on May's shoulder. "Mind if I borrow my aunt for a second?"

"Of course, I need to go find my husband anyway." Hector turned his attention to May. "It was lovely talking to you."

"You too, Hector." He gave one last smile to the two of them before turning and heading back towards the crowd in search of Max. Now that they were alone, Peter let his hand fall from her shoulder and took a half step back as she turned to give him her full attention. "What do you need, Dear?"

Peter pressed his fingertips together, suddenly feeling awkward about the whole thing.

"So, I know we were planning on dinner tonight," Peter rubbed his arm lightly, "but is it alright if I take a raincheck? Harry asked me to come over, and he and I have some—uh—things we need to talk about."

Peter winced internally, hoping he wasn't being as transparent as he felt he was. May just smiled, reaching out to pat his cheek lightly.

"Of course, that's fine, Peter," she said. "Go have fun with Harry." She drew her hand back from his face, letting it fall back to her side. "Should I expect you back tonight, or are you spending the night there?"

Peter swallowed, fighting the flush that threatened to creep up his face. Of course May wasn't implying anything, and he'd stayed at Harry's apartment hundreds of times over the years, but somehow the idea of spending a night with Harry after what had happened between them was new and exciting in a way that made his heart race.

"I'm not sure," he admitted, "I'll—um—let you know when I know." After a short pause he added, "But don't wait up for me."

May chuckled lightly and Peter gave her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek before turning to head back towards the entrance.

He didn't seek out any of the others to say goodbye. The mere mention that he and Harry were leaving together was bound to prompt a bunch of teasing, and he didn't think he could take one knowing smirk without instantly bursting into flames. To his immense relief, he didn't run into any of them on his way to the door and he slipped through the entrance into the cool night air.

Harry was waiting for him when he got outside, leaning against the front wall with his hands in his pockets and his gown draped over his arm. When he saw Peter he broke into an easy smile, and Peter thought it couldn't be healthy for his heart to do somersaults every time Harry smiled at him now.

"Ready?" He asked, pushing himself off the wall as Peter approached him.

"Yep," Peter answered.

"You tell any of the guys we were leaving?"

"Absolutely not."

Harry chuckled.

"Yeah, good thinking."

As they made their way towards Harry's sleek black car, he pulled his keys from his pocket. They jangled as he spun them around his index finger, catching them against his palm in a casually confident way that Peter couldn't help but find attractive. The thought didn't feel out of place in his head. He wondered exactly how long he'd been thinking things like this, and why he'd never noticed them before.

Peter spent the ride stealing glances at the side of Harry's face as he stared steadily at the road. He tried to stare out the window but his eyes kept wandering back and every once and a while the headlights of a passing car would glide through and catch Harry's eyes in an enchanting way and— oh, wow, he was far gone. How had he not realized sooner just how deeply he'd sunk.

Soft laughter drew his attention. Harry was watching him from the corner of his eye, a sly smile tilting his lips.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer."

There was no actual annoyance in his voice, only playful teasing, but Peter still felt all his blood rush to his face.

"Don't look so horrified," Harry said, looking back at the road, smile still fixed in place, "I never said I didn't like it."

Now Peter's face felt hot for an entirely different reason. Flirting. This was flirting. Harry was flirting with him. What was he supposed to do with that?

Flirt back. His brain supplied unhelpfully. He'd never been particularly good at flirting.

"What... What do you want to do when we get to your place?" Peter mentally slapped himself, for chickening out and for the obvious subject change. Harry shrugged, if he noticed Peter's internal crisis he didn't let on.

"Don't know. We could watch a movie or something." Harry caught his eye again for just a second. "To be honest I just wanted to be alone with you."

Peter felt a smile quirk the corner of his mouth.

"Oh really?" He teased. "What for?"

"Best friend advice." He said and the smirk was back on his face. "You see, this guy I know kissed me today. You think that means he likes me?"

Peter's face only grew hotter, but he couldn't help but smile at the tongue-in-cheek tone of Harry's voice.

"Hard to say. I think I'd need more data to form a proper hypothesis."

Harry chuckled, glancing at him from the corner of his eye.

"Dick."

Peter stared down at his lap, picking at a loose thread on his dress pants.

"I think," he started, "he probably kinda likes you." He glanced back at Harry. "A little."

Harry's smile grew soft as he stared out at the road. It may have been his imagination, it was hard to tell in the dim lighting, but his cheeks looked a little pink.

"That's good," he said, "because I probably kinda like him a little too."

They lapsed into silence after that. Not exactly comfortable, but not tense, just heavily charged with a different kind of energy. It was the familiar back and forth of friendly banter, but with a new edge to it, a different tone that Peter didn't quite know how to process.

By the time they reached Harry's apartment complex, his nerves were humming with energy. He followed Harry through the familiar twists and turns of the building and pulled out his key card to let them into his apartment.

They second they got inside, Harry was already undoing his tie, heading towards his bedroom in the back of the apartment.

"I'm gonna change into something more comfortable." He paused at the door and turned back to Peter, the tie dangling from his fingertips. "Do you want to borrow some clothes?"

"Please," Peter answered gratefully, the last thing he wanted to do was hang out in his stiff suit all night. Harry smiled and disappeared into his room.

Peter turned, dropping his bundled gown into one of the chairs and setting his cap on top of it. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he reached out to catch an object out of the air before it collided with the side of his head. He turned to see a bundle of clothing unfurling in his hand and looked up as Harry chuckled lightly.

"One of these days I'm gonna catch you off guard," Harry joked, leaning against his bedroom door.

"I'm never really off guard," Peter smiled, tapping his temple. "Spider-sense."

Harry's smile curled into a smirk.

"I have evidence from earlier that says otherwise, Pete."

Peter felt his ears go red and he sputtered, clutching the ball of clothing against his chest.

"I— Well I— You—"

"Relax." Harry crooned, his tone of voice and the undone buttons of his shirt doing absolutely nothing to help him relax. "Go get changed."

With that he pushed off from the door frame and stepped back into his bedroom.

Peter had never experienced Harry flirting before, he didn't know Harry could flirt, he'd certainly never done it in front of Peter, but he couldn't take much more of it if his mental sanity was going to hold up. He ducked into the bathroom, quickly changing into the clothes Harry loaned him, a pair of sweatpants and one of Harry's old t-shirts that he demoted to a sleepshirt years ago.

When he stepped back into the main room Harry was already on the couch, remote in hand as he scrolled through shows and movies. He looked decidedly more comfortable in his pajama pants and t-shirt. He turned when he heard Peter, smiling and gesturing towards the TV with the remote.

"Any suggestions?" He asked.

"Uh," Peter sat down with him on the couch, more aware of how much space he left between them than he'd ever been. "What was that show Miles told us about? The one about unexplained phenomena?"

"Hm," Harry hummed, tapped the remote against his thigh for a moment before snapping his fingers and lighting up with recognition, "Global Theories!"

"Right, how about that one?"

"Sounds good to me."

Harry turned on the show and they settled in. Peter wasn't lying when he said he wanted to watch it, but two episodes in and he couldn't have told you what was happening if you held a gun to his head. Harry was sitting next to him warm and relaxed and all Peter could think about was how it felt to kiss him. The soft feeling of his skin and the quiet breaths he took between kisses. How was he ever supposed to focus on anything ever again now that he knew what Harry's lips felt like against his.

Peter's nerves hummed with the feeling of eyes on him and he turned to see Harry staring at him, something heavy in his gaze that made Peter's mouth go dry.

"What?"

Harry shook his head.

"Nothing, just—" He leaned forward and the hand he had on the back the couch slid closer to brush lightly against the side of his face. "Can I kiss you?"

Peter's head was spinning, both from the fact that Harry felt the need to ask after they'd kissed for a good ten minutes only hours before, and that this is something they did now, Harry wantedto kiss him. He could barely find enough air to breath out "Yeah," before Harry cupped his face and pressed their lips together. It was more languid this time, with less of the eagerness their first kiss had, but Peter still felt like his brain was melting as Harry kissed him slow and curious. His hands found Harry's shirt and gripped it for dear life as Harry shifted closer and tilted his head to catch Peter's bottom lip between his own. Harry sighed against his mouth and pulled back.

"God, all I've been able to think about all night is kissing you."

Peter's blood burned beneath his skin at the thought of Harry just as distracted by him as he'd been all night.

"Really?"

"Yeah." Harry leaned in again, fingers sliding across his jaw. "You're driving me crazy, Pete."

Peter chuckled, rolling Harry's collar between his fingers.

"Between you and me," he said, glancing back to the show playing unwatched in the background, "I have absolutely no idea what we just watched."

Harry laughed and Peter drug him back into a kiss. It was messy, because neither of them could stop giggling, but, God, Peter just wanted to kiss him and they made it work.

With the permission to kiss Peter freely, Harry seemed to get a thrill out of doing it. One kiss led to another, which led to another, and suddenly it wasn't so funny anymore. Soon Peter was barely able to draw in enough breath between kisses to keep his brain functioning, but that was okay because Harry's arms were around his waist and his brain wasn't doing him much good anyway. Kissing had always been nice, but kissing Harry was intoxicating in a way he couldn't explain. If this kept going he was pretty sure he'd never be able to think properly again and he was perfectly okay with that.

Harry's fingers slipped under the bottom of his borrowed shirt and traced over his skin. Peter inhaled sharply, breaking the kiss.

"Sorry," Harry said, drawing back just enough so Peter could see him, ruffled and unfocused, "too much?"

Peter was suddenly very aware that they were alone in Harry's apartment, and how warm Harry's hands felt against his skin.

"No," he breathed.

Harry's gaze flickered over his, searching for something, asking a question. Peter answered it by pulling him back into a kiss. Given consent Harry's hands slid fully against his skin, trailing up his ribs, and Peter's breath hitched. Logical thought burning away with Harry pressing heated kisses against his mouth.

There was an intention behind their movements now that wasn't there before, like they were leading somewhere. And Peter wanted to go there, God did Peter want to go there. He locked his arms around Harry's back, gripping the fabric of his shirt like a lifeline to keep himself from drowning in all the different sensations coursing through him. Harry's hands slid over his stomach and Peter shivered, grip tightening in response. A hitch in Harry's breath brought him back to himself and he relaxed his grip, wary of his strength. Harry must have noticed his hesitation because his hands stilled and he pulled back.

"Are you okay?"

Peter was more than okay, his brain was swimming in endorphins and he wanted nothing more than for Harry to stop worrying and just kiss the living daylights out of him.

"I'm fine, I'm just— trying not to get too carried away. I don't want to hurt you."

There was something heavy in Harry's gaze as a hesitant smile turned up the corners of his mouth.

"Have you... ever done anything like this?" He asked.

Peter shook his head.

"No, you?"

"No." Harry leaned closer and Peter tilted his head up. He stopped just shy of another kiss and whispered, "Guess we'll figure it out together."

Butterflies exploded in Peter's stomach spreading warmth through the rest of his body and he groaned as Harry closed the distance to kiss him again.

Harry kissed him like he'd gladly do it all night, slow and deep, savoring each kiss like he wanted to memorize every catch of their lips, every shared breath. Peter could feel desperation bubbling near the surface. Whether it was his or Harry's he had no idea, but his frayed nerves could only take so much.

He gripped the front of Harry's shirt and tugged him forward, shifting until he was laying back on the couch with Harry's weight settled on top of him. Harry broke the kiss with a heavy exhale and for a second Peter worried he was going to pull away again, but Harry just hovered for a moment catching his breath before he dipped down to kiss the corner of Peter's mouth, then his jaw, making his way to Peter's neck. His movements were hesitant and calculated as he explored Peter's skin, moving slowly like he was gauging the reaction he got.

Oh god, if Harry only knew how crazy he was driving him. His heart was beating at 20 miles an hour and his brain was moving even faster. A chemical cocktail of hormones was flooding through him, his mind was already fifteen steps ahead, and Harry's lips were moving so slowly across his skin. Harry's hands were back against his waist, lifting his shirt as they smoothed across the dips and curves of his body. Peter squirmed, tossing his head back as Harry continued to kiss at his throat. He opened his mouth and swiped his tongue across Peter's pulse. Peter moaned and arched his back, pressing their bodies flush together. Harry sucked in a sharp breath and dropped his forehead against Peter's shoulder.

For a moment everything was still. Peter barely had time to work through the fog of hormones clogging his brain to wonder why Harry had stopped moving before Harry was propping himself up on his elbows, putting an aching chasm of space between them. His face was flushed and his pupils were dilated. Seeing the physical evidence of Harry's attraction to him made Peter's insides do flips, and he almost missed Harry's voice over the rush of blood pounding in his ears.

"Pete, before we— I don't think I can—"

Peter mentally shook his head a little to clear it.

"Huh?"

Harry swallowed and took a second like he was collecting his words.

"Before we go any further. I mean, if you don't want to— I just want to be sure—"

Peter laughed.

"Oh god, Harry, please stop talking." Harry's eyes went wide and Peter sat up forcing Harry to move so he was straddling him. He gripped the back of his shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it behind him into the apartment somewhere. It was hardly the first time he'd been shirtless in front of Harry, but there was a heat behind Harry's eyes as they roved over him that made Peter's blood boil beneath his skin. He sat back on his elbows and crooked a finger. "Come here." Harry did, heat simmering in his gaze as he moved to hover over Peter. He lifted a hand to stroke Harry's cheek and push back some of the hair that had fallen in his face. "I want this, okay? Do you?"

Harry's eyes flickered over every inch of his face, settling briefly on his lips before meeting his gaze again.

"Yes," he breathed.

"Then stop overthinking it."

Peter wrapped his arms around Harry's shoulders and pulled him back down with ease. He shifted his body so their hips slotted together and rolled his hips up intentionally. Harry made an unbelievable sound somewhere between a groan and a gasp and Peter pressed their lips together to swallow it and any other sounds he made as their bodies moved together in an incredible mess of heat and friction. Peter broke the kiss, panting, and wrapped his arms more firmly around Harry's back. He buried his face in the junction between Harry's neck and shoulder.

"T-tell me if I'm using too much strength, yeah?" Harry nodded in a half aborted way that made Peter unsure if he'd even heard, but in a second that didn't matter because Harry stooped down to kiss the newly exposed skin of his chest and every rational thought flew from his head.

Electricity crackled under his skin, conducted from Harry's weight moving on top of him, Harry kissing and sucking at every inch of skin he could reach and there were still far too many layers in between them. He ran his hands down the lines of Harry's back and gripped the hem of his shirt, hoping Harry would get the message because he didn't trust his voice to work right now. Harry shifted, kissing his jaw and his mouth as he moved to sit back so Peter could tug his shirt up and over his head. Peter laid back again and Harry followed him, pressing a fierce kiss against his lips. The sensation of skin against skin was enough to make his head spin. Peter gripped Harry's shoulders as lava pooled low in his stomach.

"Harry—" he croaked, "please— I need— I need—" he begged, not even sure what he was asking for. One of Harry's hands slid down in between them, pausing at the waistband of his pants.

"I don't... really know what I'm doing." He admitted, as his fingers dipped experimentally beneath the elastic. Peter squeezed his eyes shut, tossing his head to the side as every nerve in his body fixated on Harry's hand so close.

"I don't care," he groaned, "just— please, just touch me."

Harry didn't speak, but his hand slid lower and Peter choked on a swear, white hot fire bursting through his body as Harry stroked him hesitantly.

"Oh god, Harry— "

He could feel Harry's eyes on him, observing every reaction but Peter couldn't bring himself to feel embarrassed as he writhed under Harry's touch.

Peter's hands scrabbled for purchase against the cushions, the fabric, anywhere that wasn't Harry, because he knew even before the back of the couch gave a grating creak as his hand clamped a death grip around it that he wouldn't be able to keep his strength in check right now.

Harry grew more confident under the positive reception and all Peter could focus on was the burning pleasure quickly building inside him and the feeling of Harry's hand around him, stroking, bringing him closer—

His hand flew down to wrap around Harry's wrist and stop his movement.

"Harry," he panted, "if you keep doing that I'm not gonna last."

Harry's eyes were burning when they met his and for a second he forgot how to breathe.

"That's okay."

Peter's mouth went dry and it took him a good second to remember how to speak.

"Not— Not yet," he whispered. "Not without you."

Harry watched him for a second longer, the intensity in his expression threatening to burn Peter from the inside out. Finally he drew his hand back out of Peter's pants, and shifted forward to kiss him.

"God, you're amazing," Harry murmured against his lips. Peter tangled his fingers into his hair, desperate to let him know without words how much he understood that. Harry deepened the kiss and his tongue licked lightly at Peter's lips and Peter parted them, shivering as the heat of Harry's tongue slipped in to taste him.

Peter's hands wandered down Harry's chest to hook into the belt loops of Harry's pants. He broke the kiss to tug lightly and murmur,

"Take these off."

"Okay." Harry's voice was thick in a way Peter had never heard as he sat up to follow the order and he wanted to burn it into his memory. He got the feeling that Harry would do anything he asked right now and that was enough to make his hands shake as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his pants to shimmy out of them as well, leaving him in only his boxers.

Peter sat up, leaning forward to meet Harry in a kiss as he turned back. Harry pressed a hand against his chest, pushing him back onto the couch. He slipped one knee in between Peter's and Peter's breath hitched as he rolled his hips forward just slightly.

"This okay?" He asked, breaking the kiss to whisper against Peter's jaw.

"Yeah," Peter breathed, sliding his hand over Harry's shoulder to press against his back.

Harry dipped his head to suck bruises onto the other side of Peter's neck as their hips ground together.

It was Peter that slid a hand down in between them, curling his fingers beneath the waistband of Harry's boxers.

"Can I touch you?"

Harry pulled his mouth away from Peter's skin and propped himself up just enough to whisper a breathless,

"Yeah."

Peter slid his hand into Harry's boxers, wrapping it around him and drinking in the sharp inhale when he stroked up experimentally.

"Pete," he gasped, and what Peter would give to hear Harry say his name like that over and over again.

Harry propped his forearm next to Peter's head to keep his balance as he reached down to pick up from where Peter had stopped him earlier. He dipped his head to press their foreheads together and Peter squeezed his eyes shut, the sensations washing over him almost too much.

"Harry," he moaned, because it was the only thing left in his head as pleasure coiled tight in the pit of his stomach. "Harry, I'm— I can't—"

Harry kissed the spot beneath his ear, one hand sliding up his back to press him closer as each heavy breath fanned across his skin.

"I've got you, Pete."

Everything came to a sharp peak and Peter threw his head back, choking on Harry's name as pleasure rolled through him in waves. Harry continued to stroke him through the shudders of his orgasm until he collapsed boneless back onto the couch. Harry wasn't far behind him as his body tensed and his breath faltered against Peter's skin. He let out a pent up exhale and sunk heavy against Peter, turning his head to press kisses against the side of his face.

"That was... wow." Peter sighed.

Harry hummed and kissed the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

For a moment they just laid there, catching their breath and Peter focused on the feeling of Harry's heartbeat slowing to normal against his chest.

Peter opened his eyes, staring past Harry up at the ceiling when something in his peripheral vision caught his attention. There was a sizable impression in the back of the couch that wasn't there before that, to his embarrassment, matched the width of his hand when he reached up to curl his fingers around it. He pressed lightly and the underlying frame shifted easily beneath his fingers.

"I, um—" he started, drawing his hand back down to rest against Harry's back. "I think I broke your couch a little," he admitted sheepishly, "sorry."

Harry chuckled lightly against his skin.

"Pete, I literally could not care less right now."

He shifted, pulling back just enough to rest his forehead against Peter's smiling lightly.

"It's your couch," Peter joked lightly, curling his fingers into the hair at the nape of Harry's neck.

Harry dipped his head to kiss him, slow and relaxed.

"Do you want to go to bed?"

Peter ran his fingers through Harry's messy hair.

"Yeah."

The first thing Peter noticed when his brain faded back into consciousness was that he was comfy. More than comfy, he felt like he was laying on a cloud specifically designed to make him never want to get up. He didn't think he'd ever been this comfortable. He shifted closer to the warmth beside him, settling back in to keep laying and possibly just stay here forever. The arm around his waist tightened in response and Peter opened his eyes.

Harry was still asleep, hair sticking up every which way, and his mouth partially open. Peter tried to stifle a laugh. It reminded him of Harry spending the night at his house when they were kids. Back then he would've woken Harry up by jumping on the bed and launching him into the air in a mass of sheets and flailing limbs. The idea was still tempting, but he was so comfortable, and he didn't think this mattress would transfer motion like that so instead he just slid a hand over Harry's side and traced the lines of his spine and shoulder blades.

Harry's brow creased, he let of a soft groan and turned his head to push his face further into his pillow as his eyes blinked open. For a second he just stared at the bedsheets in front of him, then he tilted his head and caught Peter's gaze. He smiled and Peter was embarrassed to admit how fast it made his heart beat, his entire body warmed like someone struck a match and lit a fire in his chest.

"Good morning."

" 'Morning," Harry mumbled, drawing his arm back to stretch. Peter watched his muscles shift with something like objective interest. It was funny that Harry looked more muscular, even though Peter could bench press him without breaking a sweat. When he was done he settled back into the pillows and focused on Peter. "How'd you sleep?"

"Amazing." Peter groaned. "This bed is the most comfortable thing I've ever laid on. I think it's made with dark magic." Harry smirked at him.

"No, it's just expensive."

"Uuuugh," Peter whined. "What's it like being rich?"

"Extravagant." Harry propped his head up on his hand. "Pete, you know I would—"

"No, no, stop talking." He pressed a finger against Harry's lips to shush him. "I didn't take your money all through high school and I'm not going to start now, so stop offering."

Harry took Peter's hand, pulling it away from his mouth. He unfolded it with his own and lined their fingers up. The gentle pressure made him feel even warmer than the luxury blankets.

"Hey, Harry?" He started, not entirely sure how he was going to ask this. "Is this- I mean- Are we, you know, dating now?"

Harry looked up at him, sliding his fingers to slot them in between Peter's.

"Do you want to be?"

Yes.

"I asked you first."

Harry looked back down at their hands, tapping each of his fingers in sequence against Peter's knuckles.

"If we weren't gonna start dating, we probably ruined our friendship by having sex."

Peter flushed as thoughts of the night before filtered through his head, and chuckled nervously.

"Fair point, but I guess I just... didn't want to assume anything. I think part of me is still processing all this. It feels unreal. And I thought, maybe I'm getting ahead of myself. Maybe I misread the situation and you don't want to date me, or just want to be—" he winced before he could even finish the sentence, "friends with... benefits?"

Harry cocked an eyebrow.

"Like you could ever be friends with benefits with someone, Pete. You get emotionally attached to bacteria specimens."

"Hey! They're trying just as hard to survive as everything else!"

Harry huffed out a laugh and squeezed Peter's hand.

"I get what you mean though. For a second after I woke up, I was convinced yesterday was a dream. Wouldn't have been the first time I dreamt something like that."

Peter felt his face heat up, brain short circuiting with the knowledge that Harry had apparently dreamed about kissing him before. It was a good few seconds before he understood what Harry was saying.

"So, that means— I mean— you—?"

Harry smiled at him, eyes glinting in the soft morning light.

"I'd really like to date you, Pete."

A warm shiver ran up Peter's whole body from his toes to the crown of his head. His brain pondered the scientific ramifications of Harry being able to make every cell in his body go haywire with just one sentence, while his mouth said,

"C—cool. That's— that's cool. Groovy."

Harry chuckled, lifting a hand to brush Peter's bangs away from his face.

"Has anyone ever told you, you suck at this kind of thing?"

"Maybe... once or twice. I'm told I use humor to deflect when I'm nervous."

Harry's gaze flicked over his face.

"Are you nervous right now?"

"Terrified."

"Why? It's just me."

Harry's thumb brushed almost absentmindedly over his lip and Peter wondered how in the hell he was supposed to be calm with Harry's fingers exploring his face like he wanted to memorize every feature.

"Yeah, but it's you. It's us. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you're attracted to me."

Harry's smile turned dangerous in a way that made Peter's fingers go numb.

"Oh, I'm attracted to you."

"Yeah, that's what's hard to believe."

Harry hand stilled against his cheek.

"You know I think you're amazing, right?"

"That's nice to hear. I know my adjective is the amazing Spider-Man, but most people just call me a menace."

Harry shook his head.

"I'm not talking about Spider-Man. You, Peter Parker, are the most incredible person I've ever known."

Peter swallowed.

"Keep talking. Flattery might get you everywhere."

Harry's hand continued to stroke down his face in a way that made butterflies flutter in his stomach. They'd never been particularly shy about physical affection, but this was different. Every touch now had a weight behind it that wasn't there before, and Peter was still reeling at the realization of just how deeply he'd wanted to see that something more in Harry's gaze.

Harry pulled his hand away and lowered it to skim his fingers over Peter's throat in a way that made goosebumps break out across his skin.

"Hickeys are almost gone already," he said.

Peter shrugged, trying to pretend the simple touch wasn't affecting him as much as it was.

"Healing factor."

"No mornings in the bathroom with makeup for you then, huh?"

Peter smirked.

"I have been known to cover the odd Spidey bruise with a liberal amount of foundation, but nothing you can do to me will stay that long."

"Maybe I just have to try harder."

"I'm calling the police." Peter clucked his tongue. "Six hours into a relationship and we've already dissolved into abuse. It was good while it lasted."

"Ha ha." Harry's arms wrapped around him and pulled him closer, Peter felt him nuzzling into his hair. He sighed and let his forehead rest against Harry's shoulder, feeling the subtle movement as he asked, "Do you want to get up?"

"No."

"You don't want breakfast or something?" Peter nuzzled his face further into Harry's shoulder.

"Literally nothing is getting me out of this bed until at least noon."

"Really?" Harry chuckled. "Not even Spider-man?"

"It's been 24 hours so far without a Spider-man worthy incident, and Miles promised to take over patrol. If I have to get up, some villain is going to have a very unhappy Spidey to deal with."

Harry just laughed and the sound was incredibly soothing.

Peter let his eyes fall shut, lulled by the warmth of Harry's arms and the softness of the bed. He was close to nodding off again when his phone went off on the bedside table. After a second he decided it was way too much effort to reach over and grab it.

"You gonna get that?" Harry asked into his hair and Peter shook his head.

"It's probably just Aunt May wondering when I'll be home."

Harry was quiet for a moment, fingers drumming against his skin.

"Do you need to go?"

Peter shook his head again. He shuffled a little closer to Harry. Dear god, this bed was comfortable. How Harry managed to leave this bed every morning he had no idea, if he had his way he'd never leave it again. He groaned and rolled into his back spreading his limbs as far as he could on the king-sized bed.

"You're like Calypso."

Harry blinked at him.

"...What?"

"Calypso, from the Odyssey. She kept Odysseus captive for seven of the ten years he was gone because she wanted to make him her immortal husband. That's you, you're trying to keep me here forever with your incredibly comfortable bed."

Harry raised his eyebrows, caught somewhere between amused and befuddled.

"You are such a nerd. Didn't Odysseus stay with Calypso because she was so enchantingly beautiful he couldn't resist boning her?"

"Yes, but don't get a big head, Harry. I'm staying for the bed."

They laughed together softly, and Peter let his eyes fall shut again, reveling in the warmth and comfort. After a moment, Harry's voice chimed in again.

"Are you gonna tell her?" Peter opened his eyes and turned his head to look at Harry again.

"Who, Calypso? Hate to say it but we haven't talked in a while, pretty sure she knows it's over though."

"May," he clarified, ignoring Peter's joke. "Are you gonna tell her about us?"

"Oh." Peter rolled back onto his side so he could more comfortably face Harry again. "Yeah, of course."

"Really?" Harry looked almost surprised. "You think she'll be okay with it?" Peter laughed.

"Okay with it? She'll be thrilled. All she's ever wanted was for me to find someone that makes me happy. I don't think she could ask for anyone better." Harry smiled, a faint blush dusting across his face.

"I think my dad would've had a conniption if I told him something like this. He liked you alright, but he had ideas of grandeur about me marrying the daughter of some tycoon to expand the business."

Peter smiled wryly.

"You saying I'm not the classy lady he had in mind for you?"

"You could stand to be a bit more classy, Pete."

Peter laughed and tapped the bed in between them.

"Alright but you're imagining what your dad would say if you told him you were dating Peter Parker. Can you imagine what he'd do if he found out you were dating Spider-Man?" Harry's laughter joined his.

"I think he would've had me committed."

Their soft laughter mingled together in the quiet room, adding to the warm atmosphere, but Peter knew there was something underneath it, raw and tender.

"Hey," he reached forward and laced their fingers together, "you know it's okay, right? This is your life, you don't have to live it the way your dad wanted you to."

"I know," Harry sighed and lowered his gaze to their hands, playing with Peter's fingers in between his own. "It's just hard. I took everything he said as law for so long. He wasn't all knowing—actually he was wrong about a lot of things—I know that, but I still second guess myself all the time." He brought his eyes back up to Peter, expression firm. "Not about you though, not about this. I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

Peter smiled, a pleasant buzz starting up in his bones. One that had been there since he kissed Harry on that bench yesterday and didn't seem to be going anywhere soon.

"Me too."

Harry leaned forward and kissed him. This was still so new, every touch was like static electricity prickling across his skin. Like jumping off a tall building and feeling his stomach drop before shooting out a web to catch himself and swing.

On the bedside table, his phone beeped again, then once more, and Peter really wished it would shut up as Harry's hand slid to the back of his neck. After another chime Harry chuckled against his mouth and kissed him firmly once more before pulling back.

"You should probably get that."

It took a second for the words to soak in as his brain worked to create any thoughts that weren't Harry, kissing, and good. Peter finally conceded and rolled over to grab his phone. He sat up, swinging his feet over the side of the bed as he unlocked it. As he'd suspected, the first message was from Aunt May, asking if he'd be home for lunch. The second was from Anya to their group chat containing about eleven winky faces. There were a couple other similarly teasing messages from their other friends. Peter ran a hand down his face. Aunt May must have mentioned where he'd disappeared to last night. The bed shifted and Harry's weight pressed against his back, arms wrapping around his waist. He rested his chin on Peter's shoulder.

"What's up?"

Peter tilted the phone so Harry could read the messages.

"They're gonna be insufferable aren't they?"

Harry chuckled, nuzzling his face into Peter's shoulder.

"Probably. Let's face it though, we teased the hell out of Gwen and Anya when they got together."

"Shit, I knew that would come back to bite us." Peter twisted in Harry's arms to look at him. "You know they're gonna want every detail, right?"

Harry smirked. He took Peter's phone from his hand, clicked off the volume and set it face down on the nightstand.

"They're gonna have to catch us first."

The End.

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Word count: 11581