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They were having an argument over the phone.
Really, how lame was that? Harry certainly thought they were above arguing over the phone like a bunch of teenagers especially when he was a damn CEO and Peter was Spider-man. One would think they were more mature than this.
Nevertheless, the young Oscorp heir and CEO was wrong and he was listening to sweet, sweet (just not now) Peter yelling at him on the receiver.
“I AM BUSY, HARRY. FOR THE LOVE OF—” the masked hero was cut off and for a moment, Harry stopped breathing when he heard the sound of a large crash and Peter’s yelp before the brunette yelled snarky remarks to whoever he was fighting.
“I don’t care, Peter!” Harry snapped, his heart calming down now that he knew Peter wasn’t dead or crushed beneath a car or truck or five. “You’ve been putting this off for weeks—”
“Hey, shorty! Can’t reach me, can you?”
Another shot of irritation and anger shot up in him but not because he thought Peter was calling him names, “Peter! Are you even listening to me, you dick?”
“Hold on for a sec, shorty—my boo is on PMS and is being an irrational—”
“Peter Stark-Rogers! How dare you—”
“Sweetie,” Peter said and it was in the most sickeningly sweet voice that Harry felt the need to punch him, “I’m trying to stop crime, would you please calm the fuck down?”
“I am calm, you dick!”
There was a laugh, sarcastic and teasing and Harry was too close to throwing his Stark phone (a present from Peter for their first anniversary), “babe, don’t get your panties in a bunch, I will be home tonight and I will make you scream for my—”
“This is the third time I had to cancel on an important client, Peter! If you put this off one more time, I swear to god—”
“Babe, just let me finish with shorty here and I am all yours, just be freakin’ patient.”
“No, no, you are not! You are heading here immediately! You’re a freaking adrenaline addict! You aren’t going to be done until you fall asleep on your ass, you ass! And then dinner will be—”
“I promise, I’ll be there when I’m done here—you know, saving the city?”
“Stark, I don’t even care about the damn city, I want to have dinner with my boyfriend!”
“Well, we can’t have dinner if the city’s in ashes, can we?”
“Have you ever heard of the Avengers? Fantastic Four? I’m pretty sure they can take care of the city for one freaking night when you’re supposed to be fucking me over a table!”
“Wow,” Peter gasped and Harry heard the sound of another man groaning, probably the shorty the other was talking about, “man, Har, you’re really worked up. That’s hot.”
“PETER! I WANT DINNER!”
“I promise! I will be there—”
He’s had enough. He wasn’t going to take any of this. He was Harry freaking Osborn and he wasn’t taking this crap from anyone, not even from the amazing Spiderman. He walked over to the edge of the roof and looked down, seeing how small the cars and people were below.
“I’m going to jump off the damn roof and if you’re not here to catch me, I am going to kill you.”
“Holy shit—Harry, don’t you freakin’ dare—”
“One foot.”
“Harry!”
Taking a deep breath, Harry could hear Peter’s voice yelling at him and calling him a moron but he shut them out and calmly, with the grace of an Osborn, jumped off the roof.
“If you don’t save me right now, you’re in for some serious deep shit, Peter S—”
“Oh my god, are you freakin’ crazy?!” Peter screamed at him, an arm around Harry’s body while he used his other hand to swing.
Harry laughed, wrapping his arms tightly around the familiar shoulders and twisted a bit to face Peter, “I’m dating you so I must be crazy.”
Peter grunted, “that makes the both of us—geez, Harry, this better be the only time you pull a stunt like that, you idiot!”
Before setting Harry down on the roof of Oscorp, Peter gave him a slap on the ass and took off his mask, “swear on it, Harry. Never again.”
Harry was grinning widely but his eyes softened, knowing he’d taken his joke a bit too far but he didn’t regret it for one second. He sighed and once again wrapped his arms around Peter, who then embraced him a bit too tightly.
“Sorry.”
“Yeah, it’s okay—” Peter coughed, “I might’ve been unreasonable. I’m sorry, too.”
He grabbed the blonde’s face gently and pulled their faces close, letting their foreheads touch, “I love you and I can’t lose you, you’re the most important everything in my life. I’m sorry for being a dick but I love you, okay?”
Harry pressed their lips together, kissing deeply but ended it quickly and pulled away from the other. Turning towards the entrance, he waved the other to follow, “I made roasted chicken and don’t you dare bring those boots in, they’re filthy.”
A grin made its way to Peter’s face and he skipped after the blonde, “babe, you don’t cook.”
Turning to face the brunette and stopping him in his tracks, Harry stabbed a finger to his chest, “exactly and if you miss this dinner, I refuse to cook you anything ever again.”
Peter grunted, teasing, “you love me, you’re going to learn how to cook for me.”
That night, Peter returned to the Stark tower with a black eye and an aching stomach. He met his dad in the living room and Tony shook his head while clicking his tongue.
“Dinner didn’t go so well?” Tony grinned, leaning back on the sofa.
Peter glared at his dad but clutched his stomach with a groan afterwards, “how did you know?”
“JARVIS, can you replay the headlines for tonight’s news?”
The television flickered on and the news from earlier began to play showing a blurry video of Harry dressed in an expensive hoodie and sneakers with a pushcart, standing at the frozen meat section of the grocery looking at the poultry.
“Spotted again for the fifteenth time at the local grocery is no one other than Harry Osborn, Oscorp’s CEO and the heir to the large Osborn fortune! For the past couple of months, the young CEO has been seen buying raw chicken—for a private dinner date with Peter Stark, perhaps? Well, that’s what the whole nation is hoping for! Harry, if you’re watching this, we’re all rooting for you!”
Peter groaned as the television turned off, “no wonder Harry was being all pissy about dinner.”
“You know, I did that once, for your pops,” Tony said thoughtfully, “he ate it all and said it was delicious with this bright, Captain America grin. We had great sex that night—”
“Oh my god, dad!”
“—then I found some leftovers and went to take a bite and it tasted worse than crap. But Steve swears up and down it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. I married him a few months after.”
“Really, dad, really? You’re telling me this now?”
“No pain, no love, kid. Suck it in and go to your pops, he knows how to deal with stomach aches and food poisoning.”