hackthis_archive | This is your life and it's ending one minute at a time.

This is what I wanted to write originally -- my take on that missing scene at the end. Yeah, you know that scene.

Spider-Man 2
My Name is Inigo Montoya

Harry Osborne has been in love with Peter Parker for entirely too long, and obviously this is why he didn't see the truth before, why he didn't realize Peter's secret sooner, because they fucking lived together and Harry couldn't see a damn thing for Peter's coke-bottle glasses and deceptively built frame. Harry fell for the packaging and never bothered to look and see how many Greeks were hiding inside his favorite Trojan horse.

*

I thought you were my friend, Harry says.

I am, Peter replies.

No, you're not. You're a goddamn liar.

*

At first Harry thought Peter's big secret was Mary Jane, and maybe that's why he started dating her in the first place. If he couldn't have Peter then at least he could have what Peter wanted the most in the world and that was kind of like having Peter. Except it wasn't, because MJ was a redhead, and kind of vapid, and she was a girl, and she so wasn't Pete. But Harry tried. He tried so hard, because his dad loved Peter and he thought that if his dad loved MJ then he could keep fooling himself, but no. His dad saw right through MJ and kept on thinking the sun rose out of Peter's ass, and so MJ had to go. And then his dad died, and it was all Spider-Man's fault, and that was when Harry needed Peter the most. God, Harry needed Peter so bad he could almost taste the cheap soap and the bad polyester and the alcohol that Peter never ever drank.

*

Why did you do this to me? Harry asks. He doesn't expect an answer.

Peter doesn't give one.

*

When his dad died, all Harry wanted was to climb into bed with Peter and never ever come out again. Fuck Oscorp. Fuck school. Fuck everything except getting fucked by his best friend -- but that never happened because Harry never made his move and Peter kept on working and not being around, and all Harry had for comfort was Maker's Mark.

It wasn't the whiskey's fault -- the whiskey provided a temporary burn and Peter, Peter just made Harry burn all the time. Peter made Harry burn the way Spider-Man made Harry ache for vengeance, and Harry thought those things were different. He thought that his love and hate were separate -- but they weren't, because the more Harry craved Peter's touch the more he craved Spider-Man's head on a platter. And then to find out that Peter was friends with Spider-Man? It was like being stabbed in the heart.

*

I loved you, Harry says. I would've done anything for you.

Peter -- Spider-Man blinks. Nothing has to change.

Bullshit.

*

Harry thought that Peter had chosen Spider-Man over him. He'd never taken Peter for a starfucker, but there was a first time for everything. He thought MJ had addled Pete's brain -- he thought. God, Harry had thought a lot of things.

*

If you think I'm letting you out of here, you better think again

He's got MJ.

Harry's sneer is automatic. Do you really think I care?

*

Harry was never a strong student in school; all the books and lessons and tests bored the shit out of him. As far as he was concerned the Table of Elements wouldn't do dick when the stockholders were screaming about the dip in share prices. Harry was born to be a businessman, and he had dreams of Peter doing the legwork and him footing the bill. Together they would bring Oscorp its second Nobel Prize. Now, though, now Harry wants an entirely different prize.

*

Harry--

Peter -- or should I call you Spider-Man?

It's so easy for Harry to wrap his hand around Peter's throat and push him back onto the ottoman. Harry has no doubt that Peter could break free if he wanted to -- but as far as Harry's concerned, Peter owes him more than this.

*

Harry's been dreaming about Peter Parker for years, not quite since they met in high school, but pretty fucking close. Probably since the day that Peter kicked Flash Thompson's ass during lunch. Harry'd always thought that Peter was kind of soft and slow, not mentally, but physically, Harry was pretty sure that anyone could kick Peter's ass. Harry'd always had enough money not to run into the sort of problems that Peter seemed to attract, but then Peter proved him wrong, and Harry went home that night and locked himself in his room. He turned up the alt-rock station way too loud and jerked off with the cheap, generic lotion that he picked up from the corner store. He'd chosen the cheapest brand, because Peter wasn't an Osborn and he probably couldn't afford the really expensive stuff, and that had set the course for a very long time.

Even when Harry had MJ, he thought about Pete. When they were fucking, all Harry could think about was how tight Peter probably was -- and now, now that Harry has Peter Parker stretched out underneath him, writhing in that hideous blue and red suit, he's having a very hard time remembering that he hates this man. Now that Harry has what he's always wanted, he's finding it very hard to decide if he's in love or hate.

He suspects they're sort of the same.

*

If I let you go --

I'll come back

You'll do more than that -- you killed my father; you're going to pay for that.

Harry --

You don't get to call me that anymore

I'm sorry.

Not yet, but you will be.

-end-

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