summary:
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What If Peter fell from the ceiling onto a worried Harry during the origins?

Why is his heart beating so fast after his barely dressed friend falls on him.. is it because of the lack of clothes? The shock? The confusion? Or something else..?
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"Ow! What the..?"

A sudden rush of dizziness overtook Peter as he stumbled backwards, just barely managing to keep his balance. His hand hurt – something had definitely bitten it – that much he knew. The slight pain in his hand was the least of his problems at the moment, however. His hearing rapidly deteriorated and mind scrambled as the sounds around him became muffled and distorted. Peter was completely disoriented. His head began to throb and his vision failed. He could feel his head growing hotter. Before he knew it, the rest of his body had begun to follow suit. He needed to get out of here, fast.

Peter gained his composure to the best of his ability – which wasn't much at the moment, – as to not cause alarm to anyone else. Fortunately, or maybe not so fortunately, no one typically paid any attention to him. No one except Harry Osborn, of course.

"I'm gonna go find a bathroom," He tried to tell his group, although the words came out more as a jumbled mess of nearly inaudible mumbles. With that, Peter stumbled his way into one of Oscorp's bathrooms.

'It's a good thing I know this place, otherwise I'd probably be passed out on the floor by now from trying to figure out this maze of a building...' Peter thought to himself, afraid to speak on account of his persisting nausea.

Peter leaned on the bathroom counter, frustration rising as his symptoms lingered. His body felt like it was on fire. Peter did all he could to suppress his body's rising temperature, uncovering any layers of clothing he could and allowing water to run from the faucet. He took off his glasses, closing his eyes as he let the cool tap water ease his discomfort. Putting his glasses back on, he glanced up at the mirror in front of him. Peter squinted at the figure staring back at him, unable to focus his eyes. He looked at his wet, still flushed face as best he could, letting out a sigh. His symptoms didn't seem to be worsening anymore, but he sure as hell didn't feel them relinquishing, either.
'
strange,' he thought to himself, attempting once again to force his eyes to focus on his blurred reflection, 'I should have regaine-' "Ow! What the-?"

A sharp pain shot up through Peter's head. Peter took off his glasses again, closing his eyes and reflexively pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to suppress the pain. To his surprise, the pain completely vanished almost instantly. He shrugged it off, 'maybe pinching your nose really does work,' he thought. He chuckled lightly to himself as he looked back up at the mirror to see- Well that's just it. He could see.

"I..." Peter started aloud, his nauseous symptoms subsiding now, "I can see without my glasses..? That's... weird," Peter said aloud, curious panic rising in his voice.
Peter took a step back, dropping his glasses on the floor. His heart skipped a beat as he heard his lenses shatter, but he soon dismissed it seeing that he clearly had no use for them anymore. He began to pace from one side of the surprisingly roomy bathroom, his confusion and nerves more prominent now that he no longer felt so much like he was dying.

"Ohkay, okay," Peter breathes, closing his eyes and motioning his hands to calm himself down, "This is fine! Just walk it off. Walkkkkkkkk it off."

Peter's pacing soon lengthened, although he didn't take notice of the amount of time it had been since he redirected his stride. Before long, Peter felt pressure begin to build up in his head once again.

'Oh great,' he thought, although this felt different than his previous symptoms.

Peter opened his eyes to find... everything upside-down. Panic rising, he frantically looked up (down?) to see the floor below him. Peter was beyond confused. He was terrified, hysterical with panicked fear. Needless to say, he did what any normal person would do in this situation – although he doubted anyone had ever been in this situation. He screamed.

Peter didn't know how he had expected his outburst to sound, but the noise he heard himself make was beyond anything he had ever heard a fifteen year-old kid make. He let out a high-pitched, disoriented screech. If he were the one hearing that scream as an outsider, he'd certainly be alarmed. Thank god no one had been around. At least, he hoped no one was around. Just then, Peter heard the bathroom door open, followed by hurried footsteps.

"Pete? You okay in here, buddy? I heard screaming," Peter watched in horror as his concerned friend looked for him on the floor below.

"shit-"

Peter didn't mean to swear, especially not aloud. But frankly he couldn't help it. He was completely wrapt in perturbation, hoping more than anything that his friend wouldn't look up. Why would he? No one expects to find their friend on the ceiling, after all. And Harry wouldn't have, if it weren't for Peter's utterance.

"Pete? Where-" Harry stops, momentarily locking eyes with Peter.

Peter's heart dropped, as well as the rest of his body. Whatever grip Peter had on the ceiling seemed to suddenly vanish, and before he knew it, he had fallen directly on top of his friend.

"Aaugh! ..Wh- WHAT THE HELL??" Harry coughed out, his voice raised as a result of the sudden rise in his heartbeat, as well as the extra weight he now possessed on top of him.

"H-Harry!! Oh my god.. I'm so sorry! I'm- I-" Peter stammered, hurriedly standing up and offering the still toppled Harry a helping hand.

Harry took his friend's hand, using it as a surprisingly strong counterweight as he found his way to his feet. His composure regained, Harry took notice of Peter's almost complete lack of clothing.

"Pete, what happened to your clothes? You take a mid-tour swim in the bathroom or something?"

Harry joked, his eyes scanning his nearly bare body a little longer than he probably should have. Peter's toned limbs and midsection did not go unnoticed by his friend.

'right, THAT'S the weirdest thing about this situation.'

"I- I didn't feel well.. I was hot!" Peter managed to explain in a flustered hurry, his heart still pounding from the fall.

"Yeah you are," Peter heard his friend mutter. The words were unmistakably clear to him, despite the incredibly hushed tone they were spoken in. Still though, he was sure he heard wrong. He must have.

"What?"

"What?"

"Right uh, Cool.. I'm cool-! I mean- Look at that, I feel fine now!" Peter broke the silence, not wanting this situation to be any more awkward than it already was. He could feel his face reddening again, although his bite symptoms had subsided by now. He clumsily grabbed his clothes from the bathroom counter and stumbled into an empty stall to change.

Harry watched as his friend made his way into the stall, raising an eyebrow in utter confusion. He couldn't make sense of anything that had just taken place. He needed answers – after Peter was dressed, of course.

Not two minutes later, Peter shuffled back out of the stall, albeit more confident now that he was back in his favorite red hoodie and jeans. Pausing momentarily outside the stall, he considered making a half-assed excuse and simply leaving. He knew he realistically wouldn't be able to get out of the situation that easily, but it was worth a shot.

"Alright, I uh, I should get home. Been a long day. Thanks for Checking up on me, really!" Peter began towards the door, not making it far past his friend before he was inevitably stopped.

"Peter! Hey, wait!" Harry grabbed Peter's arm.

"You can't just fall from the ceiling like that and just leave without an explanation! What the hell, man?"

Feeling the sudden pressure of Harry's hand stop his lame attempt at freedom, Peter stopped, taking a deep breath. Peter did not want to have this conversation. Not now. How could he explain things to Harry if he couldn't even explain them himself? He hesitated, taking a moment of preparation before turning to face his friend. The sight of the genuine concern and confusion - yet understanding and friendliness on Harry's face put him more at ease, even if just a little.

"Right, that," He sighed, anxiety building up as he continued to survey Harry's eyes, finding comfort in their soft gaze.

Harry had Peter's attention. He could finally get some answers. The problem was, he hadn't been able to properly think out what he wanted to ask. In his defense, it wasn't everyday he saw someone fall from the ceiling. He knew he had to start somewhere, but Where? He spoke finally, attempting a question,

"Okay. So what... what happened? What's going on? I mean wh- ho- explain, please."

Recognizing that his words were coming out as stammered disasters rather than formulated sentences, he thought it best to give up and let Peter explain himself.

"Okay listen, if I had any idea, I'd tell you! I would! But I- I don't... "

"What? What do you mean you don't-"

"Harry I... I don't know what's going on with me..." Peter looked down, his nerves accelerating as worried realization overcame him.

"I.. don't know if i'm okay. I thought I could just walk it off, that these immediate symptoms would go away on their own, and they have! I thought that was the end of it, but then..," he motioned to the ceiling. "I don't know what's wrong with me, Harry. I need help.. I can't-" he leaned on the counter and buried his face in his hands, feeling more confused and frustrated than before. Harry took notice of this, his expression softening immediately as he did his best to offer comfort.

"Hey.... you're not alone. Whatever this is, we'll figure it out together, kay? Everything's gonna be okay."

Peter looked up from his hands, his chin still resting in his palms as he turned his head to see his friend beside him. He felt his nerves calming down now, knowing that Harry meant every word. He always knew the right thing to say.

"Thanks, Har."

Harry's eyes met with Peter's as to let him know that his words were sincere, an encouraging smile forming across his lips. A simple, careful expression which said a thousand words to Peter without saying anything at all.

"So, have you been working out or?" Harry broke the silence, glancing down at Peter's body before meeting his eyes once more.

Peter's heart rate instantly skyrocketed upon registering the question. He felt his body tense in shock as his posture shot upright and his face reddened once again. His head snapped downward, back to Harry, and downward again before he paused, lifting his shirt slightly to reveal a damn-near six-pack.

"what the hell..? "

'That's new', he thought to himself.

Harry was laughing now, amused by his friend's ignorance to such a defining feature on his own body.

"You haven't noticed? How the hell can you not notice?"

"I don't know, Harry! It- it must have been part of... whatever this whole mess is!" Peter motions to himself, mentally adding his miraculously toned body to the "list of things to find an explanation for".

"Well, I for one could get used to this..," Harry said to himself, low enough as to not let Peter hear him – or so he thought.

"Uhh..."

Harry's eyes widened, not expecting any response from his friend.

"I mean- I'll finally have a worthy opponent in, y'know, spontaneous push-up contests and whatnot, that's all," Harry made his best attempt to play it off. He just had to hope his friend would let it go.

"...Right."

A rush of relief overtook Harry. He sighed inwardly, taking advantage of his chance to change the subject.

"A-Anyway, now that you've calmed down and gotten dressed, do you want to meet back with the rest of the group? The tour isn't over and I know how much you wanted to be here today.. if you're not up for it though I'd be happy to give you a ride home... It's your call."

"Yeah I... I guess I should get home, sorry..., " Peter trailed off, guilt apparent in his voice.

"It's okay, don't worry about it. We can worry about all this tomorrow."

"Sure... And hey, thanks for being there for me, really. I appreciate it a lot."

"I'll always be here for you Pete, don't sweat it," Harry chuckled, taking caution for Peter's state and watching for a satisfactory sign of confirmation of his ability to walk without assistance. He watched Peter stand and eased up slightly only after his friend made his way to the door without difficulty. Following suit after his friend, Harry inwardly frowned at the sight. He should be anything but disappointed that his friend was okay, and yet, he couldn't help but hope for an excuse to put his arm around him. 
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