Archive of Our Own ^beta

He had been inspired by the simplest of things: Peter’s insistence.

Ah yes, Peter, his wonderful boyfriend who loves him to death and keeps him safe as Spider-Man. The same Peter who happens to work as a photographer and has been dying to get him behind his camera. 

Does he know of his disdain around photoshoots? He does, but admittedly there’s a lot Harry didn’t tell him due to his fear of his lovely boyfriend thinking less of him if he knew every little detail. 

Yet as Peter had told him ‘You’ll have to do it sometime. You can’t avoid photoshoots forever; eventually you will have to do one. Why not let it be with me?’ 

Had he been able to say ‘no’ to his love he’d not be in the predicament he is now: doing his damnedest to hide how difficult this all is for him. 

Being in a photoshoot setting—despite Peter being behind the camera—had so many bad memories come flooding back to him. True, it’s not a high end, haute couture sort of photoshoot, yet it does nothing to prevent the many, many bad memories coming back to him. 

It's strange how this is the one thing in life that bothers him the most despite being with so many older men when he was still in boarding school… 

He should relax upon seeing Peter, who he knows for fact would never, ever harm him, yet upon the sight of the damned camera in his hand, he tenses more, hating himself for doing so. 

This is Peter. Peter would never, ever harm him…but the damned camera makes it unbearable to be near his own boyfriend, the only good boyfriend he’s ever had. 

(Real good too, like in a ‘Dr. Strange and Bruce would approve of him’ sort of good; not his definition of good Dr. Strange thinks is lacking/warped.) 

“Har, are you ready?” 

He does his best to snap out of him, wishing he could get drunk or tipsy about now since this is so damn hard to do sober, “Yeah, as ready as I’ll ever be.” 

“Great!” Peter is enthusiastic, his smile is reaching his eyes, and Harry knows it won’t be any sexualized or exploitative like the other ones in the past (that’s what Peter called them anyway), “Now, I’m going to need you to get in front of that wall and—” 

Harry is doing all that he can to focus and go on some autopilot like he usually did at these shoots. However, it’s a lot harder when all he can hear are the comments made by phantom crew members from his own memories, “Look at you, Osborn! Who knew Norman could have a kid with legs as nice as yours? …Hey, I think we’re supposed to be putting something on them, right? Something to really make ‘em pop,”, “C’mon Harry, don’t act like you don’t like to party! We’ve all seen the photos of you and Beaumont together in the clubs; you’re no wallflower, quit pretending to be one, let’s get a drink together”, and perhaps one of the grossest ones he’s ever heard, “You wanna fuck sometime? …Ha, I know you’re as slutty as they come! Don’t try to deny it; c’mon you know you wanna get—” 

“Ah, you heard me, right?” 

He didn’t, but Peter didn’t need to know that, “…I did, I did.” 

He raises a brow to this, but doesn’t question him on it, “Okay…now, I need you to—” 

It’s cold in here, isn’t it? Like his first photoshoot—the one where he was naked with the sheet that was too scratchy—there’s a cool breeze on his neck and he’s suddenly remembering the way everyone openly leered at him, how small he felt, how defenseless and insignificant he became under the weight of a damn flash going off over and over as the photographer kept saying, “Be more seductive! This is a designer shoot, not some street crap—quit being so stiff!” 

He had to have some bourbon in him to get a good enough buzz going to feel comfortable enough to give the man what he wanted. 

Then again, he was sixteen and making stupid decisions like he always did—like William said he was damned to do because, as he rightfully put it, “you’re a dumb broad; dumb broads always make horrible decisions, especially ones like you with the daddy issues lacking in the common sense to see and change it”. 

Oh god, it’s gotten colder, and the camera won’t stop going off, won’t stop making the damned clicking sound…when will it end? It feels like he’s been here for hours already, with leery people all watching him, waiting for a moment where he’d slip up so they could get close to him, get to—

“Har, are you sure you can do this?” 

To Peter’s doubt and concern—which he cannot see thanks to the camera he has in his hands and the way his eyes go down to his pants to be sure there’s no erection there and it’s fucked up because Peter is his boyfriend, he loves him, he would never ever harm him—

“I am, I just need to get a bit more comfortable…is there anything I can take to get some of the edge off?” 

Peter frowns, and he knows he’s doing something stupid by bringing this up, “You shouldn’t need one…there’s no crew here; it’s just you and I. Why would you need something to take the edge off? Don’t you trust me to take your photo?” 

“I do, I promise I do, but,” he places a hand over his eyes, hoping he won’t see the absolute discomfort there, “can’t I take an anxiety med or something? Something to make this a bit easier on me.” 

“I have nothing for that,” he’s Spider-Man, why wouldn’t he? 

No, there’s no point in getting upset with Peter. He doesn’t deserve it; he’s done nothing wrong. 

Harry himself is for being so, so, stupid at sixteen and thinking he could handle this, being so pathetically desperate for Norman to give him any attention at all that he’d whore himself out by becoming a model and doing all those high-end photoshoots with the big designers… 

Peter could never be at fault. The only one here at fault is himself as he pushes himself to try, try again, “If you can’t do it—” 

“I can; it’s just…it’s been so long since I’ve been in front a camera. I have some jitters, that’s all.” 

Peter doesn’t fully buy it, but he allows him to have this excuse for now, “Whatever you say…let me know when you’re ready.” 

He nods and lets himself fall into the standard autopilot mode he had for whenever he went through one of these, “Okay, I’m ready now.” 

His boyfriend doesn’t appear to buy it—or maybe he does. He’s not paying attention to him now. He’s more focused on the memories appearing in his mind and keeping them at bay to the best of his ability. 

With his head held high, he does his best to endure it, yet is constantly flashing back to the innumerous amount of times he’s been made to feel like he wasn’t in control the entire time. 

Dating older men felt safer to him back then because he was the one running things (or so he had thought). In his fucked up eyes, he had control the entire time and as such, felt safer with them than men his own age, who tended to get physically violent and cruel towards him. He never once truly felt afraid for his own safety when he was with these men. 

It also helped that he was choosing to have sex with them. He was choosing to be sexy and seductive for them when he was in boarding school. 

This is probably not the only way to see things—and he knows Dr. Strange would tear into him for trying to play it off as such—but this is why he can speak about his exes without any of the sort of panic associated with photoshoots. 

The problem with photoshoots is, he never had any control. He also never had any say or voice in the matter. 

He could never choose to not do the nude shoot or else he’d be fired from his agency (Norman would never defend him either; if anything, he’d have some lackey write a letter justifying his being fired). He could never deny a photographer any request lest he get labelled ‘difficult’ and have to do more dangerous shoots, with photographers accused of being rapists and have to be on guard there to be certain he isn’t another victim. The crew? If he ever got too mouthy with them, they’d tell the photographer, who would threaten to ruin his modeling career. He was trapped when he was a model; he had no freedom, no voice, no say, no control over anything at all—and he couldn’t fight back if he wanted either because then they would threaten to get the police to arrest him for being wasted at the job. 

He hates photoshoots and the memories coming back to him, particularly the one where the photographer got an erection after a shoot, gripping him so hard it hurt, telling him in no uncertain terms, “You made this happen, what are you going to do about it? …Oh no, I’m not letting you go, not after what you pulled! Now tell me, what are you going to do to fix this?” 

His wrist feels sore, like it’s bruising on its own accord, and his mouth starting to get dry, with his legs being reduced to those as trembling as a little deer learning to walk…and why is it so damn cold in here? Also, where did the smell of cigarettes and overbearing body spray come from? 

“Harry, you’re not with me anymore, you’re not okay—please tell me what’s wrong,” and when Harry pushes him away to walk off the set and get some distance, he knows he’s ruined things between them like he was destined to do. 

Peter doesn’t need someone like him who cannot do the bare minimum of a basic photoshoot without becoming like…like this. 

“What is wrong? Please, talk to me! I thought you could handle this,” Peter grabs his hand, the camera now long gone, and he can finally see his boyfriend again, “What happened? You told me you could handle it.” 

“…Jitters, nerves, it’s no big deal. I can try again—” 

He stops him with a firmly spoken, “No, it’s not that and we both know it. What is happening? You haven’t looked at me once since you got here, you aren’t being yourself, and all the photos I have are of you looking like a cornered animal.” 

It clicks for him the moment he said it out loud yet Harry cannot look at him still, “…This is trauma from your time as a model, isn’t it?” 

Harry has nothing to say because he got it incredibly right the first time around. 

“Har, I thought you were ready…you told me you were for the last few days…why didn’t you say anything?” he hates how he can hear the guilt in his voice because it honestly isn’t his fault; it’s all his, “Did I make you feel like you had to do this? Did I do something wrong to make you feel comfortable here? What did I do, what can I do to make this better? Please, talk to me, tell me anything at all.” 

He has his hands on his shoulders and he’s doing all that he can to make him calm, happy even…yet Harry cannot bother to say much other than a small, choked out, “…I’m sorry, this is all my fault. I’ll try again—” 

“No, don’t try again! I want to know what is going on to make you act this way.” 

“If I tell you, you’ll think less of me to where you will want to breakup with me. It’s not worth it, Pete. I know I’m fucked up, but I don’t think you deserve to know how bad I can get.” 

Immediately, he’s having this shot down by his wonderful boyfriend who’s way out of his league, “There’s no way you can believe something so crazy… Harry, there’s no way I would ever break up with you! The idea of some other guy out there being your boyfriend would be enough to drive me insane.” 

“…You don’t mean that. I’m not that important to anyone, not even my own father—” 

“Who cares about Norman? You are important to me; hell, Harry, you were my sexual awakening when we were kids!” Harry looks up at him to see if this could be a lie because there’s just no way and…nope, his Peter is being completely honest. He can tell by the way he’s too prideful in what he has to say next, “I had the biggest crush on you ever. I used to think it would be awesome to marry you someday and I’m still open to it now if you believe in marriage…but none of this is important. What is important is you knowing I won’t ever leave you for anything outside of cheating, mistreating me, or trying to kill me.” 

The blond man can only blink to this, amazed at just how…strangely intense his Peter’s feelings are for him—have been for him, for years now, “You were jealous whenever you saw me with other guys?” 

“I’d be crazy not to be,” before he can go off, Peter stops him, “don’t be afraid to tell me anything. I didn’t judge you when you told me about your exes, I didn’t judge you for your photoshoots in the past: I won’t judge you now, I promise.” 

Peter always keeps his word to him, he can trust it, but he wants to be fully reassured of his support, “You promise you won’t judge me and break up with me over this?” 

“I promise.” 

He takes a breath and does his best with the fear of it being too much for Peter, “I can’t do the photoshoot. I can’t be here without being reminded of everything that happened to me when I was a model.”

Peter, being as kind as he is, tries to make it better for him because of course he would, he’s too good for him, “Was I doing something to trigger your bad memories? Did I say something a certain way or—” 

“No, you did nothing wrong. Just…being here…having to do the whole model thing…it’s too much for me. I thought I was over it, I really did, and I wanted to have you be my photographer; you’re honestly so talented at it!” he can hardly meet his eyes now, “You wouldn’t have treated me like they did, but I can’t get it out of my head—what happened to me, out of my head. I can’t be here without feeling, hearing, reliving everything. It’s too much; I can’t do it like I thought I could.” 

Peter’s only answer to this was to be Peter and hug him while giving him a gentle, “it’s okay, I get it, don’t force yourself to do something you don’t want to do” because he’s amazing and Harry’s not certain to this very second if he’s worthy of him or not.

If it were any of his other exes, they would have all quit on him over this or berated him for being so stupid in his modeling days, yet here is Peter, with no such talk. It’s honestly shocking even if he’s upset with himself for ever being nervous to tell him any of this. 

“I won’t, but damn if I’m not being an idiot right now,” he has to laugh at the absurdity of it all because, “Like, it’s stupid, isn’t it? I was always in control and choosing to do the shit I did with exes like Armel and Pierre, but modeling was the one thing where I had no control over.”

Peter doesn’t agree, yet he wasn’t expecting him to, “They were adults, Har,” he pauses from saying much else when he sees Harry give him an exasperated look, “but I can see why modeling bothered you a lot more.”

Harry was getting ready to hear him attempt to talk him into doing the photoshoot again at another time and he was okay with it, because maybe today really is an off day for him and—

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think you should get some therapy.”

Imagine his surprise to this, “…Therapy? Why would I need that? I’m fine, I have you, I don’t need—”

“Except you do,” Peter argues, “Harry, you can’t handle a photoshoot with me! It was like your body was present, but your mind wasn’t. I kept thinking I was messing something up for you to be that way, but now I know how severely traumatized you are, and I believe you need the help.”

“I don’t need it, I’m not that fucked up,” like Norman always said, ‘Osborns don’t get therapy; we’re too strong for that’ and honestly, Harry doesn’t want to hear someone else from his universe confirming just how correct Dr. Strange is because the confirmation makes it all real and he’d rather it not be so, “Today was an off day. I don’t need therapy because I had one off day.”

“You are traumatized though—”

“That doesn’t happen to Osborns. If there’s one thing my father could never call me, it’s weak and fucked up. None of which I am.”

Peter’s stare alone is enough to make him feel uneasy about his position on things, like he’s said too much or something he shouldn’t have, “Let me guess, Norman was against therapy, wasn’t he?”

Harry nodded, having wrongfully thought he knew this, “Yeah, he always has been. It’s why he never got me any growing up.”

“And he made having trauma out to be a bad thing?”

“Why wouldn’t he? It was one more thing for him to look down upon others for.”

It’s not a lie either. Norman had long been of the belief that trauma was something which only happened to ‘the mentally weak’. It’s why he always he told Harry ‘Osborns don’t get trauma; we’re too resilient for it to happen to us and my god Harry, should it ever happen to you—that is the day you stop being my son’.

His dad was homophobic, but it was always the threat of going to therapy for trauma that would make him threaten to disown him (a threat he knew he would follow through on) as opposed to being gay.

Strange how it worked considering most homophobic parents would have it the other way around.

“I shouldn’t be shocked,” he tries one last time for his own good, “he doesn’t matter anymore. He’s dead and gone. What happened to you has clearly left a scar on you mentally and you need to heal from it. Just because you are good at hiding your trauma now doesn’t mean it won’t come out in different ways later on down the line that could make affect you in the worst way possible.”

When Harry was unresponsive to it, he sighed and resorted to his one last card to pull, “If you won’t do it for yourself, then at least do it for me, please. I want you to be happy, I want to do a photoshoot with you someday, but that won’t happen until you get therapy.”

Damn him for knowing how to pull at his heart string. Damn him for doing so now and leaving him wanting to do all that he can to make those puppy dog eyes liven with happiness again.

Damn him—he really knew how to get him at his weakest spots and now…now, “Alright, I’ll do it! Just don’t give me that look, okay? You know I can’t stand it.”

Peter smiles and he feels relief at the sight of it. However, it doesn’t change the fact he’s incredibly nervous about therapy, “What look? All I did was beg and you caved.”

“Don’t make me take it back,” Harry threatens though it’s empty and Peter knows it, “I want to go home and watch some French movie. Is that fine with you?”

“Yeah, it is.”

He’s not happy about this whole ‘therapy’ thing, but he’ll do it for Peter’s sake.

When Bruce and Dr. Strange visit again, they’re alone and this time around, they come when Peter-three had already been to their universe to save Harry’s life.

Learning all that he did from Harry about what all he has been keeping from him all this time—the visits from the people they grew close to (usually Dr. Strange and Bruce at least once every other year), the near kiss attempt by alpha Peter (he’s over the moon to know Harry rejected him, but it doesn’t change the fact he feels the urge to punch the guy out for trying to make a move on his Harry), and how he’s always taken their advice to heart—has been fascinating to say the least.

In a sense, seeing them again felt more like meeting Harry’s parents for the first time than seeing two friends again. Particularly since Dr. Strange couldn’t hide how miffed he was to have come at a time when Harry and him were making out on their couch after getting a bit too close to each other when relaxing after a particularly stressful day for the both of them.

(Harry was in a hostage situation today and Spider-Man saved his life, bringing him back home while holding him tighter and closer than he ever had before.)

“Hello Harry, hello horndog who can’t control his carnal desires,” he addresses them both, with Harry ending the kiss immediately to face him, “I thought we’d stop by for a quick meal with you guys to catch up, but it seems you’re too busy—”

Bruce interjects, not allowing him this chance to ruin this meetup between them, “Harry, Peter! It’s been too long. How have you two been?”

Harry got off the couch to greet Bruce with the same tight hug he always does, “Better…I was in a hostage situation today, but I was saved by Spider-Man.”

“And let me guess; making out is Peter’s solution to a traumatizing event?” Stephen asks with a bit of a side glare to the other Peter.

He had no problem with him when he was single. Now that he’s with Harry…he is having a difficult time accepting it because in his honest opinion, no one is truly good enough for Harry.

Harry chuckles, “No, it’s nothing like that…he was comforting me, and I got a bit carried away with the kisses. I would prefer you to be nice to my boyfriend, though. If soulmates are a thing, he’s definitely mine and I want you to accept it.”

Stephen’s silence meant nothing in the face of Bruce’s approval, “I always knew you two would be lovely together! Are you guys going to ever do the whole mating—no, wait, it’s called ‘marriage’ in your universe—are you going to ever do that?”

Harry shrugs, “I’m fine with things as they are now. Why mess with a great thing?”

Peter agrees, clearly not bothered by Harry’s statement, “Yeah and I don’t think we need a marriage to prove our love for each other anyway.”

The beta wizard has nothing to say outside of, “Harry, Peter and I are going to talk alone.”

“Go ahead, I know you won’t find anything wrong with him.”

Bruce looks about ready to kill him, but he does not care.

Peter didn’t mind speaking alone with Stephen. If anything, this is the one thing normal part of dating Harry he had missed out on thanks to his parents being deceased.

They are alone in a guest room (Peter’s choice) when Stephen lays it all out for him, “I know Harry speaks highly of you and being with you has been good for him because you managed to get him into the therapy he so sorely needed. All I want is for you to protect him from his bad decision making skills and any person who wishes to do him harm.”

The thing is, aside from catching them making out, he honestly doesn’t have much to complain about Peter.

Thanks to him, Harry got the therapy he needed. It took him far too long (as in a few years) before he could admit his relationships with the older men were not the healthiest for him and whatever sex he had with them wasn’t ultimately a good thing for him. He’s never gone as far to say it was sexual assault (which it was) or grooming (which they did), but he’s at least gotten to a place where he can admit it was all wrong and he didn’t need to go through it. He’s also gotten better at identifying what is sexual assault and harassment, all while getting to the point where he can better handle such situations should they arise in a business or public setting.

According to Harry, he’s never hit, berated, belittled, or otherwise made him feel weak, small, and powerless. Which is another major plus to him—the only reason this is being because thanks to the therapy he’s gotten, he finally has an actual clear cut definition of what is abuse, manipulation, gaslighting, or otherwise detrimental behavior that isn’t some watered down, bastardized version of what he once had.

This being said…his decision making skills are still a bit lacking and he clearly seems to be a target for villains in this universe. Which means Peter will have to step it up in the ‘protecting him’ department of things.

“I promise I will.” Peter said with a strong conviction he didn’t assume he’d see out of him, “Now that I have Harry, I refuse to let him go and I won’t ever let anything bad happen to him.”

“Good,” Dr. Strange decides to go over one more topic he believes they should, “now, let’s have a nice, long talk about consent and what all it means.”

“Okay.”

He wasn’t really chipper after the long, drawn out consent talk. This was fine because it gave Bruce and Harry time to speak to each other while they made dinner together. By the time the meal was done, Peter was thoroughly embarrassed (he didn’t need to have Dr. Strange asking him if he wore condoms regularly with Harry, if he took proper after care of him, considered his needs and whether or not he was truly consenting to everything), yet fine otherwise whereas Stephen emerged victorious all things said.

At dinner, Harry was showing off his new photoshoots for different interviews, beaming in pride when recalling his issues surrounding them and how he was able to get over them thanks to Peter pushing him to get the therapy he needed.

Of course, Stephen and Bruce noticed right away a big difference from these photos versus his old ones: Harry wasn’t being sexualized or exploited. He didn’t look to be ‘not there’ or out of it either. He seemed confident, happy, playful at times even—it felt as though whoever the photographer was managed to capture glimpses of the real Harry Osborn.

It is with pride Harry tells them, ‘Why wouldn’t the photographer be able to do it? My personal photographer is Peter.’

Stephen had to admit he did a great job on it while Bruce couldn’t stop praising the man for his ‘talent’ and going deep into conversations with him about the art of photography.

Saying goodbye to them when their visiting time was done was the easiest thing they’ve done yet. Mainly because, as Bruce put it, “I actually feel safe leaving Harry behind in his universe now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not as worried over him as I have been in the past…maybe it’s because he’s made so much progress and grown so much…but I really believe it’s also because I know Peter will keep him safe for me no matter what. Don’t you agree, Stephen?"

When he has nothing to say, Bruce pushes a bit harder on the subject, “Stephen…come on…you know they’re a great match. Just say it and—”

“I agree with you,” he’s about to celebrate when he rains a bit on his parade, “though I wish he were here in our universe instead as that would’ve been the best outcome for him, I know this is the best he can do given his circumstances.”

It’s as close to an approval he’ll ever get for Peter, which Bruce is fine with.

On Stephen’s end, he does agree with Bruce no matter how much it kills him inside to do so. He would’ve preferred Harry to have been begging him to let him be in their universe, but if he’s happy in his current universe as is, then he won’t complain about it.

As long as Harry is happy, he’s happy for him.