Archive of Our Own

Peter scrambled out of bed, throwing on a sweater and pulling on the closest pair of jeans. He bolted past his Pops and dived for the bathroom, needing to be out of the house an hour ago. He was supposed to be meeting Harry at ten, and it was currently ten-thirty. Harry was going to kill him.

He squeezed a healthy amount of toothpaste onto his finger, and scrubbed his teeth as he tried desperately not to fall on his face after tripping over a pile of Bart’s clothes that were in the doorway. After letting out a handful of curses that could make even a sailor blush, he made his way to the kitchen, spitting the toothpaste into the sink and grabbing his camera bag, which he left hanging off the back of one of the dining room chairs.

“Bye! Love you all!” A chorus of goodbyes came from the couch as he crashed into the front door, failing his attempt at a speedy exit. He wrenched it open, pulling it shut behind him, and bolted down the sidewalk, hoping that Harry wouldn’t be too mad at him for being late. Again.

Peter was halfway to the cafe when he realised he forgot to put shoes on.

Muttering another handful of colourful curse words, he quickly pulled into a conveniently placed op-shop and bought the first pair of sneakers in his size. He thanked the cashier profusely, and ran out the door, back on track. 

The rest of his journey was mostly uneventful, excluding having crashed into a hotdog cart (with no damages, thankfully), and he arrived at the cafe only forty minutes late. Honestly, he was quite proud of himself; he’d never run that fast in his life.

He pushed the door open, slightly out of breath, only to find that the cafe was near-empty, with no Harry in sight. Dread pooled in his stomach; was this it? Was this Harry finally giving up on him? Peter slumped into his usual seat. He couldn’t even blame Harry if that was the case. Peter was incredibly flaky at the best of times; Harry was bound to leave him eventually. It was inevitable.

Resigning himself to his fate, he put his head in his hands and wallowed in his guilt. The obnoxiously loud music coming from the speakers, which would usually gain an amused smile, only aided in making him feel worse. He must’ve looked especially depressing, because Joe, the guy who runs the place, plonked himself onto the seat next to him and slid over his usual coffee, free of charge.

“Y’get stood up?” Peter sank further into his hands, offering a hum in confirmation. “Hey kid, it’s alright. Happens to the best of us.” Joe patted his shoulder and left him to his wallowing.

He sat there for another twenty minutes, allowing himself time to finish his coffee, when the door to the cafe slammed open. And there, holding the door open, doubled over, sweating and panting, was none other than Harry Osborn himself.

“Harry!” Peter stood from his seat, wavering on whether or not he should go to Harry. 

“Peter!” Harry gasped, finally catching his breath and making his way over. “Sorry I’m late, dad was holding me hostage again. You know how he is.” Peter rolled his eyes. He really did know. Norman Osborn was the worst. The only good thing he ever did was sire Harry, and Norman always seemed to show his dissatisfaction at that very same feat. He was never physical with Harry, thank god, but his words were almost worse.

Peter couldn’t understand how anyone could be horrible to Harry. Harry was amazing. He was so smart and kind, with a bit of a mean streak, but he could make you forget all about it with a smirk. He was considerate, and just slightly insecure, but completely and wholly perfect in Peter’s eyes.

“Pete?” 

“I love you.” Harry flushed a beautiful scarlet hue, almost perfectly matching the colour of his hair. He tried to bury his face in his hands, but Peter caught them with his own, holding them tenderly. “I mean it Hare, I love you.”

Warmth flooded his own cheeks as he said the words, suddenly shy at expressing his affection despite feeling it to his very core.

“Peter!” Harry whined, clearly embarrassed, but still pulling him into his comforting embrace. He kissed Peter's temple and whispered quietly, “I love you too,” before resting his head in the space between Peter's neck and shoulder.

They separated after a minute of basking in each other's hold, and finally settled into their usual seats, with Joe smiling, relieved, as he brought out their regular coffee orders. He gave Peter a wink and squeezed Harry’s shoulder as he left, leaving the both of them back to blushing scarlet.

“So… did you find what you were looking for last night?” Harry asked, leaning in closer so their shoulders were touching. 

“Yeah,” Peter perked up a bit, remembering the reason he'd asked to meet up. “I would've gotten Damian to help, but he was at Jon’s again, so I had to ask Bart.”

“Oh god.”

“Yep.” He sighed. “Praying he doesn't blabber to the parents.”

The entire reason Peter had slept through his multiple alarms was because he had stayed up most of the night, searching and gathering as many photos as he could find, in order to put together an album for his parent's ten year wedding anniversary. He had enlisted Bart's help, because a) Damian was busy, and b) he was running out of time.

“I mean, he can be surprisingly good at keeping things to himself when he wants to be. Y’never know.” He shrugged.

Peter levelled him with the most deadpan look he could muster. “Harry, I love you, but this is my brother we’re talking about. The very same brother who, in another timeline, time travelled and couldn’t keep who his parents were a secret for more than a day. Also, he’s nine, I wouldn’t be surprised if Bart has already let on that I’m planning something. That boy couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

They stay there for another hour, just chatting, reminiscing over their past meetups here. It seemed so long ago that they met here for the first time, completely unaware of how connected they truly were. But it also felt like it was only just yesterday.

Little did they know that, no matter what, their fates would always be interwoven, because who was Harry Osborn without Peter Parker? And, of course, who was Peter Parker without Harry Osborn?