Log in


May 2016

Powered by LiveJournal.com

Sea Change, Spider-man, Peter/Harry

Many thanks to the_shoshanna and nestra for super-speedy beta, and also for suggesting I cut the same exact thing, which makes my life so very nice and easy. *g*

All comments appreciated!

Sea Change
by shalott

Octavius kept him somewhere, an empty loft, old warehouse, something, until it got dark, pacing back and forth between the windows. Peter faded in and out to the sound of his muttering, half of a conversation. He wasn't exactly unconscious while Octavius carried him through the city, trussed up like a turkey, but he figured it didn't make sense to start it all up again just yet. He wanted to know where they were going, for one thing, but that was an excuse: mostly he was just too tired to move.

"...tritium?" he heard, vaguely; the feeling of the cushions under him was something so close to heaven he couldn't think of anything else. His muscles had stopped screaming for the first time in hours. Harry's voice, the ugly ringing thumps of Octavius going away. The mask came off; cool wind on his face and a clatter; he couldn't make out the exact words Harry was saying, but he felt something like safe, his danger-sense easing up at last, even with the wires still binding his ankles together and his arms across his chest.

Harry went away for a while. Peter heard him stumbling around the room, clink of ice in a glass. You're drinking too much lately, he wanted to say. I'm sorry, he wanted to say. He'd thought of a thousand different ways to apologize, to tell Harry the truth about his father, about the Green Goblin, about Spiderman; none of them had ever made it out of his mouth.

"You killed my father," Harry said, very close by. He sounded like he was going to cry, or maybe like he'd already started. "Peter, you killed my father." His hand touched Peter's face, the fingers shaking while they traced his cheekbones.

"Harry," Peter said, and opened his eyes with an effort. "Harry, listen to me," he said, but he didn't have anything more to say. He just stared up while Harry stared down and kept touching his face. "Don't," Peter said, seeing tears dripping off Harry's face.

"How could you?" Harry said. "I thought, I trusted--" He slid down to his knees like his legs wouldn't hold up any longer, whole body slumping, and put his head down on the pillows next to Peter and just cried.

"Harry," Peter said, turning his head towards him. Harry lifted his wet stained face and said, "I loved you," took Peter's face in both hands, and kissed him. Open-mouthed, hard, hungry.

"Huh," Peter said, dazed, when Harry let him go.

"What you did to me," Harry said. "God, I hate you so much." And put his hand between Peter's legs.

"Okay, uh, that's," Peter said. The way he'd designed the costume, it came off pretty easily, and Harry didn't seem to be having trouble figuring it out even if he was incredibly drunk. "Maybe we should talk -- about -- Harry," he said, and strained against the wires: they snapped, his arms came loose, and Harry was kissing him again and yanking the shirt up over his head.

Harry smelled like expensive cologne and tasted like more expensive whiskey, and apparently he knew exactly what he was doing, which was a lot more than Peter could say at any given moment. The chaise wasn't big enough for two, so there wasn't anywhere for Harry to go but on top of him, and Harry's hands felt incredibly good.

"I'm going to," Harry said, and started unbuckling his belt.

"Wow, this is really a bad idea," Peter said, not to mention which, this wasn't the way he'd planned on losing his virginity, and even if his chances for doing that, well, ever, were looking increasingly slim these days, he didn't want to do it like this.

Except maybe he did, and apparently he was bi; who knew? Aunt May would probably be okay with it, mostly just happy he was seeing someone at all, although that didn't seem like the right term considering that Harry kept saying, "I hate you," between gasping breaths.

"Harry," Peter said, "Wait, Harry," but didn't do anything to stop him, and okay, ow, but not really up there by comparison to everything else today, especially with Harry's hand working on him.

"Peter," Harry said, pressing his face against Peter's neck, still wet, mouthed his throat and his collarbone and fucked him steadily. "God, Peter." Moments running together like liquid, thoughts bouncing into one another and sliding away from him, and Peter came and came and came.

"Wow," Peter said, eventually; Harry was lying limp on top of him, breathing on his neck. The weight wasn't a problem, although the sticky felt like it might become an issue in the near future, and his muscles had suddenly decided to remember that they were still really, really mad at him.

Oh. Oh, great. "Harry," Peter said, nudging him. "What was Octavius doing here?"

Harry mumbled something, not coherent, and snored into the pillows.

"Come on, Harry," Peter said, sitting him up. "Harry."


He spent a good two hours clearing piles of twisted metal out of intersections, then left the rest of it to the police and fire trucks and climbed way back up into the sky. Car antennas were bent at 90-degree angles all across the city. The balcony railing on Harry's penthouse was even a little twisted, the ends of the wrought-iron spirals pointing out and down towards the river, like thorns.

Harry was sitting on the chaise with his back to the windows, staring down at a dagger in his hands. He hadn't put his clothes back together, his pants left lying on the floor and his shirt hanging unbuttoned and limp; he looked wrecked.

"Hey," Peter said, uncertainly, pulling off the mask.

"You could've thrown me across the room," Harry said, without turning around. "Anytime you wanted to."

"Well, I didn't want to," Peter said. He came inside. There was a coffee table opposite the chaise, closer than any of the chairs; he sat down on it. "I'm really sorry," he said, softly.

"All this time," Harry said, not listening. "You knew, and you never said -- and -- "

"Harry, will you just," Peter said, and caught the dagger in mid air automatically, before it could bonk him hilt-first in the forehead. He threw it aside. "Stop it! I didn't kill your father, okay? He was -- it was an accident."

Explanation #501, discarded for reasons of being incredibly lame and not likely to keep Harry from asking questions that had answers he really didn't want to know. The first five hundred explanations had been discarded because they'd all been more or less creative lies, and Peter couldn't bring himself to pile an outright lie on top of everything else.

"Yeah, an accident," Harry said. "Like tonight was an accident?"

"Tonight wasn't an accident," Peter said.

"So then what happened?" Harry said, which was the question at the very top of the list of bad ones. "Huh? What accident left my dad beaten bloody, with five broken ribs and a broken collarbone, stabbed through the chest twice, both lungs collapsed, drowning in his own blood, and killed by a massive coronary from shock?" He stood up, stood over Peter, his hands clenched. "Come on, Pete, tell me."

"I can't," Peter said, looking down at his hands. He'd done plenty of the damage, the broken bones and the bruises; not to mention if the fight hadn't happened, Norman wouldn't be dead. No way to ask Harry to forgive even that much without explaining it all, everything Norman had done: twenty-six murders and fifty-seven attempted, the swath of destruction, the attack on Aunt May, kidnapping MJ, the kids in the tram.

He couldn't; he'd rather have Harry hate him forever than see the look on his face. "I can't," he said. "Don't ask me, Harry. Just don't."

"So I'm supposed to just take your word for it," Harry said. "I'm supposed to just trust you."

Peter stood up too and faced him squarely. "Yeah," he said. "That's it."

Harry's face slowly crumpled in on itself, shoulders hunching, and Peter grabbed him and pulled him close. Harry's hand came up and buried itself in his hair, the other wrapping around his waist, and after a while Peter let Harry take him into the bedroom, even though he was pretty sure it still wasn't a good idea.

# End


Oh. Yeah. Wow.

Not a good idea, no, but an excellent story. Theirloveissodoomed! :-)
Oooh, pretty and angsterific and also fucking hot. Huzzah!
Ahhh. Is there anything better in fic than the stuff that really isn't a good idea? Let's not analyse too closely why that is....

and okay, ow, but not really up there by comparison to everything else today

Ahaha. Sly and cute.

That was excellent. And so typical of Peter's life.
Their love is so very-very-doomed indeedy.
I enjoyed this very much, thank you :)
YAY. i'm unbelievably happy you decided to write for this, my favouritest preteen crush fandom. shalott wrote spideyslash. ahahahaha.


ps i liked it v. much ending was spectacular and so so apt kthxbai

Ooooooh, harry/peter!

*eats chocolate and enjoys the story*

I love your Peter voice. He is so completely hapless and dazed.

And Harry -- brrr. Driven. Nasty. Still freaking hot.
Okay, this is what I needed to make my day better. :->
I haven't read Harry/Peter in a while, so this was a yummy surprise.

Mmmm, theirloveissospandexual.

More in this vein would be lovely, darling. As always, brilliant work.

Loving you,
Mmmmm this felt so... canon. Because it's a short step from crying over betrayal to hott angstsex. As you made abundantly clear.



Psst-- it's Spider-Man.
Doh! I, uh, knew that. *fixes quickly while no one is looking*
I see the angst, I do, and I have to agree about the, um, hotness.

("You killed my father," Harry said, very close by. He sounded like he was going to cry, or maybe like he'd already started. "Peter, you killed my father." His hand touched Peter's face, the fingers shaking while they traced his cheekbones..... Aiya!)

But there's another voice in my head that keeps shouting, "Dude! You killed Mary Jane!"

That shouldn't be funny, should it?
It's better than the alternative that I was afraid people would think of. ;-)

(...prepare to die!)

*cries* I just wrote a huge long review of this fic and thanks to the idiocy of livejournal I lost it. :(

I will review in the morning again, but in the meantime, I am kicking myself for leaving my previous comment to you before checking to see whether you had in fact posted the fic (why did I read LJ forwards instead of backwards today? why?) and kicking myself for losing my review.

*kicks self and heads to bed*
I agree with the person up above -- the stuff that's not a good idea is often the funnest to read about. I think I loved best about this story the dorkiness in Peter's mindvoice, as when he's meditating about losing his virginity mid-fuck. Dude, pay attention! there may be a quiz on it later on.... He's just such a dweeb when it comes to interpersonal matters and you captured that brilliantly.

Aaaaand a month later someone else wanders by.

Ditto to all that. Also, for some reason I really, really love funny angst and god, this was funny in an angsty way. Especially the OMGlosingvirginity! moment being ... oh, completely bypassed with half a sentence. Such a refreshing change. Oh, and that ostensibly murderous Harry threw the dagger hilt first (or just has really bad throwing skills) rocks my world.

Anyway, enjoyed this muchly - thanks! And apologies for icon of inappropriate pairing; not normally a movieslash person. (Boy, if you think the movies have subtext...)

Very nicely written story. I like the whole its a bad idea but we're doing it anyway thing.
Oooooooooooooooooh, this is wonderful...
Time for more feedback. It's always a guilty pleasure to take the canon pain of a doomed friendship and turn it into a romantic comedy. The "No,no,no!" turns into "Yes, yes, yes!" right before our eyes. Thanks for the magic.
i love this version way more than i do the movie's
oh wow. this is powerful stuff. :D


I always thought that Harry/Peter had such slashy potential. So much so I actually wrote my own story.

This one...this one blows mine into the dust!

Excellent fic.
It's all angsty and sad, but it's got that kind of whacked out humor that the first movie did when Peter was exploring his powers, you know? I'm sure I was supposed to be bothered but I laughed a lot, instead. *grins*

Why didn't I find this fic earlier? Seriously, this was really really good. All those emotions made it so real and alive.
I loved it
Huh, where did Mary Jane go? Peter didn´t think even one time in the whole Story about her. He pinned for the whole film after her but in the end Harry seems to be more captivating. (*giggle*)

It was fantastic like always. Very emotional and from your feather they hurt so prettily. :-)