AN: Finally uploading this from my AO3 account to here. The below AN is a bit outdated (the Parksborn fandom is much bigger now!).
I finally decided to write a fan-fiction due to the depressing realisation that the Parksborn fandom appears infinitesimally small.
Background: there are some Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics - some that aren't that conventional but I wanted to even out the 'power play' (such as give Omegas defensive powers against asshole Alphas) dynamic. Gwen left for England and broke up with Peter - with a mutual understanding and no ill will between the two (chase your dreams, Gwen), Harry never takes the spider serum but still befriends Electro and orders him to bring Spider-Man to him, Harry is an Omega and hides this from the media (due to family issues + potential of media to objectify/demonize him), etc.
Head-canon: If Felicia was in this fic, she would totally be an Alpha. Max would probs be a Beta. Gwen is an ass-kicking Beta. Peter is a reluctant Alpha. Harry is a proud Omega, but still disguises this.
His skull throbs painfully and Peter winces at the sensation. He attempts to open his eyes, but he feels as if he's caught within some dream, an agonizing sensation of being unable to wake himself up. The throbbing refuses to subside and Peter groans in distress. Peter adjusts himself fruitlessly, and is skewered by a sudden excruciating pain that travels right up his spine like a poisonous centipede with sewing needles for feet.
The nightmare becomes all that more real as he struggles to sit up to relieve the pain shooting down his spine, but finds himself quite immobile, tightly strapped to some sort of chair by his wrists and calves. The bindings are harsh and cruel, cutting into his flesh with every single movement. Peter pants harshly and tears begin to run down his face, mingling with the sweat and grime underneath his Spider-Man mask, utterly overwhelmed by his discomfort.
There is some comfort in that his identity appears to still be safe. He can remember very little, only that he had been fighting Electro by the power-grid. Ah, no. He can remember something. He remembers a harsh crack to the back of his skull after dodging a particularly lethal sphere of electricity that Electro -putting ever pitcher in the Yankees to shame in the process - had hurled at him. Peter began to even out his breathing, in an attempt to calm himself. If someone had hit him from behind whilst Electro had been attacking him, it would seem that Electro had made a friend. Peter couldn't think of any other explanation. But who had Electro made friends with?
Suddenly, an enticing and faint scent hits Peter and he becomes very still. It is a sweet ever-consuming smell that reminds Peter of his childhood: summers spent at his friend's towering beach-house; of days spent sprinting over the coarse sand, the blazing sun painfully peeling their faces red and raw, and he can't possibly forget a pair of lily-white toes curling prettily in the soggy sand, with an equally pretty pair of legs to match. Finally, a pair of electric-blue eyes that could sizzle in anger one moment and spark with joy the next. The scent overwhelms him and Peter struggles frantically in his bonds, deeply inhaling that intoxicating scent trying to edge closer to it, to simple be closer to it. There is an Omega in the building, Peter distantly realizes.
Peter tries to ignore the staggering scent of the Omega and instead focuses himself upon trying to escape. The scent, appearing to clear his head, has restored his sight and Peter begins to take in his surroundings, trying to determine possible escape routes. He notes that the room he is in is quite small and well-lit. Unfortunately, he can't un-see the hideous purple wallpaper that is peeling off of the walls like over-ripe fruit. The carpet is of the cheap and nasty variety, the sort that if you stuck a nail into it the nail would stand upright and quite hidden until some unfortunate bare-footed being happened upon it. A tiny dusty window sits just below the ceiling, indicating that Peter is likely in the basement of the enemy's house. The window itself isn't too small, if Peter tried he could definitely force himself through it. The door at the opposite end of the room also presented an option, but Peter felt the window – with its clear door to freedom – presented a more hopeful outlook. The door was likely locked anyway.
The scent hits him again, stronger this time, and Peter becomes all too aware that the Omega is heading towards him. The scent is almost like a balm and Peter feels his head-ache begin to subside. His own healing factor is salving his wounds, but the pure perfume that the Omega is emitting is providing him with pain relief.
Peter is confused, he knew Omegas – rare as they are – had certain properties that Alphas and Betas lacked, but this was definitely news to him. He had studied the basics in high school of course, but most of the information on Omegas had escaped his mind. Gwen was a Beta, he was an Alpha. That's all there was to it. He didn't think he would ever meet an Omega so why bother retaining that information?
Peter froze: hopefully Gwen was okay. She had taken that flight to London after a very tearful farewell on both ends. It was with a heavy heart that they had both agreed to separate; Peter just couldn't handle the sight of Mr. Stacy in his fore-vision every time he saw Gwen. He couldn't possibly get in the way of Gwen's dreams either – Gwen had too much self-respect and Peter respected her too much. He was overjoyed to devote himself fully to the whole crime-fighting gig, but this was gonna suck if he kept getting kidnapped.
Gwen would have laughed at him, 'Caught on your first run without me?'
The aroma fell upon him again and Peter nearly broke the chair. The Omega was just outside the door – his 'spidey-sense' was going haywire and a stranger chemical in his brain was too. The door clicked open and the lights flickered madly before returning to normal. A harsh crackling noise sounded and Electro appeared from the electrical outlet on the wall.
But Peter didn't care about Electro, he was too busy gawking at the young man in the doorway.
"You really got him." The man said evenly, his eyes practically drinking in the sight of Peter, who shifted in his chair uncomfortably.
Electro nodded, "Yep. That's what friends are for, right?"
The young man's face split into an almost ecstatic grin that lit up his entire face, most notably his shocking blue eyes. "Oh, Max. You shouldn't have." he cooed gleefully, clapping his hands together, "Of course I'll keep my own promise to you. The power grid is yours. Your help has been indispensable, friend."
Electro smirked, mock-curtsying before disappearing back into the outlet with a harsh crackle. The young man pivoted on his heel and stalked towards Peter. He elaborately pulled out a chair, twirling it around before setting it down in front of Peter. The young man sat in front of him, before crossing his legs and staring down Peter, his chin clasped in his hand.
Harry Osborn, Peter muses.
He drinks in his appearance slowly. Harry's hair is as impeccable as always and his suit is neatly pressed, revealing the shape of his thigh muscle in a very tantalising way. The Prada glasses are missing of course, Harry would never wear them inside, and his blue eyes are very cool, icy even, as they stare Peter down like a charging bull. His nostrils flare, his eyes flash, and Peter can detect that Harry is pissed. So very pissed.
Harry clears his throat, stumbling over his words in an attempt to find the right ones, "You know…you are not an easy man to find, Spider-Man. Do…do you remember the first time I tracked you down? 'Cause I most definitely do. It's - well it's not easy to forget when someone decides that your life counts for less than shit. I'm sure you can imagine."
Harry pressed his hands together in mock thought, his eye twitching in amusement, "I was… just so angry. I couldn't work out why you had rejected me," Harry laughed maniacally, "I mean, who doesn't want my money?"
Peter stays silent, unsure of how to enter the conversation.
It had been surprising to see his old best-friend so suddenly when Harry had nearly been 'killed' by a truck in the street. Peter had promptly swept him up and placed him a top of a small building, the young heir stumbling over as he landed. Peter steadied him quickly and found the young man's chest to be quite firm and muscled. Peter flushed under his mask; sometimes he honestly just loved having good reflexes.
"There's a stairwell just down there, sir," Peter had said non-chalantly, not recognising the young Osborn heir.
Harry had suddenly grabbed his arm in an uncomfortably tight grip, "Actually, I needed to speak with you Spider-Man." Peter turned his head surprise and looked down at him 'properly'.
He spluttered in surprise, "H-harry Osborn?!"
He had spent so long avoiding Harry, unsure of how to approach him on the subject of his hereditary disease. He'd said he'd 'talk' to Spider-Man, but nutting out how to approach the Osborn carefully had completely escaped him. Harry's eye twitched – annoyance or amusement, he wasn't sure – and waved him off nonchalantly. He fixed an intense gaze upon Peter and relinquished Peter's arm almost reluctantly. It was a pleading gaze, Peter noted in confusion.
"Please, I'm sure you're very busy but I only need a few minutes of your time."
Peter nodded slowly, "Uh, yeah, sure man."
Peter chooses his words extremely carefully, "Har- Mr. Osborn, I meant what I said on the roof and I really can't give you my blood and I don't want your money for it. You don't know what the blood will do to you, think again of Curt Connors. You said you're stronger than him, but that has nothing to do with it. Please believe me; I'm trying to protect you."
Harry's eyes gleamed strangely and Peter felt an icy shock travel up his back – whether that was good or bad he honestly couldn't say.
Harry suddenly leaned in close and whispered softly, "Well I'll just have to find something else to convince you, now won't I?"
Peter choked at the close proximity and Harry's alluring scent. Harry smirked, clearly high on his 'power', and suddenly sidled himself onto Peter's lap, leaning his sinewy arms on Peter's broad shoulders. Peter was forced to look up at Harry, lest he bury his face in his neck instead, and their faces were maddeningly close together. It was suddenly sweltering hot, not just underneath his mask but all over his body. Peter struggled to not writhe in discomfort, fearing what Harry's reaction would be.
Meanwhile, Harry was staring down at him with an intense focus and suddenly quirked an eyebrow. He shifted slightly in Peter's lap and Peter could feel his strong thigh muscles shifting against his own legs. It was absolutely suffocating.
"You know, only a select handful of people know that I'm an Omega," Harry started, and then rolled his hips slowly, smirking as Peter made a strangled sound, "though I'm sure you figured that out as soon as I stepped into the building. You have no idea how difficult it is to keep that sort of information from the media. I even have to wear a special 'cologne' to mask the scent. My father assigned his team with the task as soon as he figured out my, uh, framework, if you will. He didn't care much for me, my father, but he cared enough to protect himself from that media shit-storm."
Harry sighed in faux sadness before leaning in to whisper again sultrily into Peter's ear, "And that is the first part of my sad tale. But you know the rest anyway. Terminal hereditary diseases are such a bother, you know?"
Harry ran his hand down Peter's chest slowly, tracing the web patterns on his suit absentmindedly.
"And although you couldn't smell me on the roof, I could definitely smell you. You have a very… odd scent, Spider-Man. Not that it isn't utterly enticing, of course - the scent of an Alpha usually is. And the one thing an Alpha can't resist is an Omega. That's just grade-school science."
Harry's hand halted in its movements and traveled upwards quickly to cradle Peter's face and spoke softly, "When you rejected me, I was confused and so, so angry. But I knew a temper tantrum wouldn't get me anywhere so instead I began to think. I needed your blood, definitely, but I also needed your subjugation. I needed to crush your skull underneath my heel."
Harry pulls back, now cradling Peter's face with both hands.
"And then it came to me. So, so perfect! What do you know about Omegas, Spider-Man?"
Peter stumbled over his words, "N-not much admittedly. You guys are a rare species."
Harry smiles brightly, "Quite right. But seriously, Omegas are rare in that we have special properties that give us a significant advantage over Alphas and Betas. As a submissive breed, we need protection, you see. Just as it so happens, this includes the art of persuasion."
Harry swings his hips, rubbing his ass along Peter's now erect member. Peter moaned softly, gritting his teeth.
"And that includes forcing bonds. It's very difficult of course as it's so utterly unnatural. Your bright, I'm sure, so can you see what my perfect revenge is? I'll force the bond on you. You'll be utterly devoted to me alone, and I'll have twenty-four hour access to that sweet, sweet blood of yours. Capiche?"
Peter's brain whirrs in thought. Harry couldn't really force a bond, could he?
That was just so uncanny, not to mention a serious perversion of the natural process. Alphas were dominant, Betas were subservient to Alphas but had their own strengths that the Alphas were subservient to, and Omegas were rare – attracted to both the Alpha and Omega - but had special properties that allowed them a certain level of protection against un-bonded Alphas, who were unrelentingly allured to Omegas.
But a special property that would allow him to force a bond?
A bond was a special occurrence that occurred between a pre-destined mated pair. Some would never experience this bond, but could still be equally happy with their partner none-the-less. Peter had loved Gwen, but they had never bonded. Peter was almost glad for this, it would be suffocating to have bonded to Gwen but still be so haunted by his promise to Officer Stacy. He couldn't imagine living in that sort of pain. Peter snapped out of his speculations, but it didn't matter.
If Harry thought he could, he probably did have that power.
"Harry, listen –"
Harry slapped him abruptly, "Don't call me that. You can call me Mr. Osborn."
Peter's cheek throbbed angrily, "Alright, Mr. Osborn. You don't need to do this. We can find you a cure, I'm all too happy to help you. Believe me. Just listen to me for more than two seconds!"
Harry laughed maliciously, "Of course. Of course. 'Cause you're everyone's hero! The one who brings hope!"
Suddenly his smile turned into a deathly glower, "Bullshit me once, shame on you. Bullshit me twice, you'd best watch out."
With that dark sentiment Harry rolled back Peter's mask until it rested just above his nose.
"You have nice lips," Harry mused before swooping in and catching them with his own.
Peter couldn't help it, kissing Harry was really nice. His eyes seemed to roll back in his head as he surrendered himself to his animalistic Alpha tendencies that had been tearing at him ever since Harry had entered the damn building. Peter pulled on Harry's lips sharply with his teeth and strained himself forward to get closer to the young heir. His bonds cut into his skin tightly but Peter found himself feeling indifferent, being too caught up in the beguiling young male straddling his thighs.
Peter sucked on Harry's tongue lavishly and Harry moaned softly, his grip on Peter's neck tightening. The soft sounds spilling from Harry's throat flared Peter's senses immensely and he practically tore at Harry's mouth in his enthusiasm.
Harry was taken aback by Peter's overwhelming determination, and found himself being the one kissed, not the one kissing. Harry smirked against the bruising force of Peter's lips. Spider-Man was more energetic than he had expected, but his plan was still unfolding perfectly.
He only had to force the bond now.
Harry pressed back against Peter's rutting hips, the both of them moaning in unison. Harry gripped Peter's shoulders tightly as he thrust back against him. A strange heat began to coil wildly in Peter's gut and his vision was temporarily blinded by a strange sensation that he was utterly enveloped in Harry. Peter began tearing at Harry's shirt buttons with his teeth, his gaze obscenely wild as Harry continued moaning. He needed to be closer, much closer.
Harry, overcome by strange force, tore at Peter's bonds, successfully freeing him. Peter howled in triumph and all but tackled Harry to the floor. Harry's eyes widened in shock, but this subsided when Peter all but consumed his mouth, pressing his very obvious erection insistently against Harry's ass. Harry groaned loudly and wrapped his legs tightly around Peter's hips, hungrily groping for more of that delicious pressure. Peter all too happily obliged.
Their hands explored each other roughly, and Harry very nearly cheered when he finally located the zipper to Peter's suit that was sneakily located at the neck of his suit. Peter shuddered as he felt Harry clawing at his back in a lust-driven fury, forcing the suit to peel from his chest. Peter sat up briefly - much to Harry's protests - to free his own arms before resuming his current mission of completely claiming the ridiculously attractive Osborn heir. Harry ran his hands appreciatively along Peter's toned arms, admiring the near-tawny skin tone.
Peter leant down to nuzzle Harry's slim neck. Harry whined from underneath him, cold pale fingers stroking Peter's chest and torso obsessively. How long had Peter wanted to do this?
His attraction to Harry had never been obvious, probably due to Harry's tendency to disguise his Omega-nature from the world and those long years spent away from each other. It had only ever been a slight-niggling in the back of his mind, almost made apparent when he had reunited with Harry at the Osborn house, embracing Harry in an overly intimate manner. He hadn't wanted to let go.
Peter impulsively kissed the tell-tale sign of Harry's hereditary affliction that was located on his jugular and Harry froze. A sensation like running electricity traveled up Peter's torso and his gaze blanked. The room, hell the world, seemed to fade away and melt into a shocking white canvas. All that was left was Harry, those soft blue eyes staring intently at him and Harry's own particular scent completely engulfing the pair.
They had bonded.
Peter was violently wrenched away by Harry, wide-eyed, pushing against his chest. The force pushed him backwards and Harry clambered frantically away from Peter.
"No, no, no. Only you were supposed to bond!" Harry shrieked, tearing at his hair.
Peter's Alpha tendencies suddenly cooled off. So it had been a mutual bond.
"Why?" Harry cried, "Why do you smell so familiar? Why do you smell like my child-hood and those lost years that should have been spent here rather than at boarding school? Why do you smell like him – so overwhelmingly warm and safe and mine?"
Peter rubbed his sore wrists, relieving the ache. He looked down at Harry, whose body was wracked in sobs.
"I guess it's because I am yours. And you're mine. I love you and I'm pretty sure that you love me too"
Harry looked up at Peter in slight awe and confusion, "W-what exactly are you saying?"
Peter took off the mask completely and stared at Harry determinedly.
Harry's jaw dropped. "P-pete?"
Peter sat down beside Harry and clasped his hand, smiling sadly, "Yeah. And I meant what I said, Harry. I would do anything to cure you, but I would also do anything to keep you safe. I will always protect you until you say otherwise, you need to understand that."
Harry let go of Peter's hand, his gaze incredibly icy, "You cast me off, left me to die slowly."
Peter grabbed Harry's hand again, intertwining it with his tightly and intimately, letting the warmth seep through his fingers, "Not intentionally, never intentionally. I needed to figure out an alternative solution. I couldn't let what happened to Connors happen to you. I wanted to discover why I reacted well to the serum and why Connors didn't. The venom is coded to my DNA, Harry. It won't work on you no matter what you do. And that's why I'm working to unpick the research my father did and recode it to suit you. I found his research, Har. I would never abandon you, not again."
Harry was still, his gaze fixed strangely on their intertwined hands. Tears began to seep down his sallow cheeks silently. He slowly lifted Peter's hand to his mouth and pressed lingering and sensual kisses to his knuckles. Peter watched him, unspeaking. They sat there for a while, in that cold basement, the irritation of the harsh carpet on their soft knees far behind them.
"I don't regret it."Harry's broken voice cut the silence suddenly, "The bond I mean. You've been there for me when no one else has,"
Harry bit his lip and looked up at Peter pleadingly, "I need you to seal the bond, Peter. I need you beside me forever, 'til death do us part and beyond that."
Peter jumped a little, "Now, now?"
Harry smiled gently, "We've waited how long, Pete? Yes, now. We can talk later."
With that, Harry pulled back slowly and began to undress, casually stripping himself of his expensive shirt and tie. He threw his attire lazily into the corner and crawled into Peter's lap. He then quirked an elegant eyebrow as if to say, Well?
Peter hurriedly removed his Spider-Man suit, embarrassed by Harry's unabashed staring.
"You know, I don't think I've ever seen you naked. And no, five-year old nakedness does not count." Harry mused.
"Well there's no time like the present to remedy that," Peter teased, tugging at Harry's belt impatiently.
Harry laughed and pulled Peter in for a kiss. Their tongues tangled together slowly and Peter remembering how Harry had reacted the first time, sucked on the young heir's tongue.
Harry pulled back abruptly and breathed, "I love it when you do that."
He quickly dove back in again. Keeping his mouth occupied, Peter began to tear at Harry's pants with frustration. Harry recognising the hindrance that was clothing pulled back again, this time to remove his pants completely. He threw them into a corner and gave Peter a 'really' look. Peter flushed.
Harry then took one of Peter's fingers into his mouth and sucked at it slowly, gaze set meaningfully on Peter. Peter shivered at the utterly enticing sight. Harry's tongue was warm and slick against his skin and elicited a sensation that was entirely arousing. That familiar scent began to overtake his senses once again and Peter all but pushed Harry into the carpet once Harry had let his fingers obscenely drop from his mouth. Harry giggled madly and leant up to nuzzle his nose against Peter's.
"Do it, Uno-brow."
Peter faux frowned, "Now, now, Mr. Osborn, name-calling is not appreciated in respectable circles."
Harry grinned suggestively, "We both know just how respectable I can be."
Peter pressed his forehead against Harry's, "I think I'll be needing a demonstration."
Harry happily obliged.