Title: Harry and His Omega

Author: The Emcee

Summary: Peter was absent from school today. Peter never, ever misses school. Even when he's sick, he comes, stubborn boy that he is. Deciding to skip school after not getting ahold of his best friend, Harry stops by Peter's house and he finds out why he didn't show up. What happens wasn't what he expected, but he can't say he would want anything different.

Pairing: Harry/Peter (in that order)

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or the fandom.

A/N: There aren't many stories with Harry as the top or as an alpha and, to be honest, I just wanted to write a story with him as an alpha because I think he'd make a pretty decent one... Plus, I like the Omegaverse AU; it gives me a lot to work with plus it's pretty neat seeing how different authors apply it to their stories. Anyway, there won't be any sex in this one but I plan on writing a sequel to this and that will definitely have some sexy fun times in it. So, let me know what you think! R&R. Enjoy!

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Harry and His Omega

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The first thing Harry noticed upon arriving at school was that Peter wasn't already there waiting for him. Call the sixteen year old spoiled – and he'd proudly admit that he was, thank you very much – but every day since he was six years old and Peter was five, the brunette had always been waiting for him at school. It was an unspoken tradition that began the second day they became friends (since the first day was spent mostly comforting a crying Peter thanks to that douche bag Flash Thompson). And today, Peter was not here.

This…this was unacceptable.

Even when Peter was sick, he showed up to school. Okay, if he had a really bad fever, obviously, he stayed home, but if he had anything else, he came. Peter was as stubborn as a mule and even though Harry often chastised him for coming to school sick, he loved it that Peter still showed. It meant that his best friend truly cared about him and that meant more than all of the money in his father's company.

Yes, Harry was considered 'popular' at school, but he didn't give a shit about that or about those losers who fawned all over him or who thought they were his 'buddies' or whatever. Peter was his only friend, his best friend, and Peter was all he ever needed. And the fact that peter wasn't here at school upset Harry greatly.

Unfortunately, the first bell rang and that meant that Harry needed to bust his ass to get to first class all the way on the other side of school and all because of Parker's dumbass didn't show up for once in their lives.

Jerk.

Once he ducked inside his first period class right as the bell rang and took his seat, ignoring all of the bimbos and morons trying to talk to him – as if they mattered – he took out his phone and sent Peter a text.

Dude, where are you?

Short hand texting was beneath him. He was an Osborn, after all.

He waited and sat listening to the stupid announcements that he didn't give a damn about. Harry then waited throughout class for his best friend to respond because Peter always, always, replied to his texts and almost always as soon as he got them. Even at two o'clock in the morning when Harry would text him just to piss him off (which it never did; apparently, Harry was incapable of making Peter mad). But even after twenty minutes had passed, Peter still hadn't responded. That must mean that something bad had happened.

Had something happened to Peter? Was he in an accident or something? Or were Uncle Ben and Aunt May in an accident?

The sudden ringing of the bell jarred Harry from his thoughts and he grabbed his bag and all but bolted from the classroom. Without a moment's hesitation or a second thought, he entered the nearest boys' bathroom, entered a stall, and called Peter. It rang and rang until it reached a voice mail. Odd. So it was on; it's just that Peter wasn't answering it. Could he be doing it on purpose? If so, why? Was he purposefully avoiding Harry? Or was Harry just being paranoid? Maybe Peter was really, really sick and Harry was being an ass about it.

Either way, he was going to get to the bottom of it.

He went to unlock the stall when the bathroom door opened. Two guys entered, laughing and carrying on. Harry could tell that one of them was Flash just by the sound of his voice, the obnoxious buffoon. The other one he didn't recognize, but either way he didn't care. Shrugging to himself, he moved to unlock his stall and step out of it when he heard what they were saying.

"Didn't you notice something…off about Parker yesterday?" Flash asked his buddy.

"No. Why?"

"I dunno… He just…he smelled weird, is all," Flash replied.

"Oh, come on. It's Parker. Weird is, like, his middle name or somethin'," Flash's buddy replied.

"It wasn't a bad weird…just…different," Flash said. "It's probably just me." His friend laughed.

"It probably is just you, man. Must your alpha pheromones actin' up again."

Harry heard the door open and close and their voices faded away. Glaring, he unlocked the door and shoved his stall door open. He didn't know why and he didn't understand it himself, but he was angry. Angry that they were talking about Peter, angry that Flash was saying that Peter smelled different and said it in a way that made him seem…interested in the brunette. It was frustrating and it pissed him off and he didn't understand why!

Peter was his! His! No one else's. Not Flash's. His. His, his, his, his, his! All Harry's; no one else's. They didn't deserve Peter. Peter was too good for them; too pure; too innocent and hopeful. He shone brighter than any planet or star and they weren't worthy. Not like Harry was. And something was driving him to show Peter that he was a more than worthy alpha male.

Already half way across the school grounds by now, Harry stopped to think for a second. Why was he reacting this way? What meaning could there be behind it? Was it…was it his alpha instincts that were making him act this way? That had to be it; why else would he be acting like a total possessive freak over his best friend?

Like everyone else on the planet, when he came of age, sixteen, Harry found out what he was destined to be: alpha, beta, or omega. When he found out he was an alpha, he had been ecstatic. Being of average height and build, Harry had thought for sure that he'd be a beta since he wasn't nearly as strong or aggressive as normal alphas are. Yes, he could be incredibly persistent and bullheaded, but that wasn't the same thing as being aggressive. And having been sickly all his life, he certainly wasn't all that strong either. Yet fate had dealt him a kind hand for once. His father was certainly surprised yet pleased, not that Harry cared.

Anyway, it didn't matter if his alpha instincts were on haywire or something. What did matter was that there was something wrong with Peter and Harry was going to find out what just in case Peter needed him. And even if Peter didn't need him, Harry would still be there just like all of the times Peter had been there for him when he was sick, nurturing and caring for him since no one else would.

Getting to Peter's house didn't seem to take as long as it usually did even though Harry knew that it took the same amount of time it always did. He knew that Uncle Ben and Aunt May would both still be at work, so it'd be just him in the house with Peter. That meant that he could raise all kinds of hell at Peter for ignoring him and for not telling him yesterday that he was sick.

Walking up to the porch, Harry stopped and sniffed the air. Something…something smelled…indescribable. It wasn't like anything he had ever smelt before. It was wonderful and magnificent and addictive and mouthwatering…there weren't enough words in the dictionary to describe it accurately enough. Whatever it was, it was coming from inside Peter's house and it was practically begging Harry to follow it to its source.

Inserting his house key into the lock – he was given one at ten since he spent more time there than he did at home anyway – Harry unlocked the door and quickly stepped inside, locking the door behind him. Inhaling deeply, he almost moaned out loud, but he quickly shook it off. He was here to see if Peter was alright, not to sniff the air like a damn dog.

"Peter!" he called out. He listened. No answer came.

"Peter Parker!" Harry called out for a second time. Still no answer.

Groaning, Harry shook his head and headed up the stairs towards Peter's room, the scent growing stronger and stronger as he approached. Surprisingly enough, his pants also grew tighter and tighter, but he didn't think of that. He couldn't. His mind was already too heavy and clouded with the scent in the air and his worry about Peter.

By the time he reached Peter's bedroom door, Harry was sweating and panting and painfully hard. All he wanted to do was find out what smelled so damn good. Was it Peter? It had to be Peter? If it was, Harry was going to wrap himself around his best friend and hold him, inhale his sweet scent, breathe him into his heart and soul, and press his body close to him and never, ever let him go. Ever.

"Peter," Harry croaked out.

"Peter, I'm coming inside whether you like it or not," Harry finished and opened the door just as Peter's weak reply came.

"Harry…don't…"

Too late. Harry was already inside Peter's room. It looked just like it always did: messy and completely and totally Peter. The only thing that seemed odd was the big lump curled up tightly underneath the blanket on the bed.

"Pete?" Harry asked. Peter just curled in tighter on himself and didn't say anything. This made Harry frowned. Peter didn't have to be afraid of him; he'd never hurt Peter if he could help it.

"Peter? What's wrong?" Harry asked gently, forgetting the fog that had formed in his mind and clouded everything as his worry for Peter took over. He approached the bed and sat down on it gently.

He waited patiently, knowing that if he just gave Peter time, the younger boy would tell him what was going on with him. Harry heard Peter sigh from underneath the blanket and his heart squeezed at the sound. It must be bad for Peter to behave like this. Still, he waited as inch by inch, very slowly, Peter pulled the blanket down so that his head stuck out of his. As usual, his brown hair was disheveled and messy, but Harry loved that about him. The only thing that he didn't like right then and there were the red, puffy doe brown eyes.

Peter had been crying. Harry needed to know why.

"Tell me, Pete. Please," Harry added, knowing that his seldom use of the word would, hopefully, gain him an explanation.

"Harry," Peter began in a shaky, husky voice. Hearing it made Harry's heart pound and caused his blood to run south. "I…I…I'm in heat," Peter finished in a rush and ducked his head, clearly ashamed.

Harry frowned, confused. Peter was in heat? He was an omega and he was in heat. How could that be? Peter was only fifteen; he wasn't supposed to find out what he was until he came of age next year. So how was this possible? And why was he so ashamed of it? There was nothing to be ashamed of! Being an omega was perfectly fine. What, did Peter think that Harry would drop him like a dime just because he was an omega? Uh, no, he wouldn't. Peter was Harry's and no one else's; Harry wasn't going to give him up for the world.

"I don't understand, Petey. You're only fifteen. How can you be in heat?" Harry asked him.

"Because… It's because of you, Har," Peter mumbled softly. Harry blinked.

"Me?" he asked. Peter sighed again and locked gazes with Harry.

"If an omega is around their mate prior to coming of age, it's possible for them to go into heat early," Peter explained, his face beat red and his eyes filling with tears. "You're…you're my mate, Harry. That's why I went into heat early, because I've been exposed to you for, like, most of our lives."

Peter was his mate, his omega. Peter went into heat early because Harry, an alpha, had been around him for so long. It all made sense. Harry would have laughed out loud for joy if it weren't for the fact that Peter would misinterpret it. That explains what they intoxicating, deliciously addictive scent was. It was Peter, his mate, in heat, telling Harry that his body was ready to be mated, knotted, and claimed. Peter truly did belong to Harry.

"Oh, Peter. Why didn't you tell me this?" Harry asked him, scooting closer to him on the bed.

"I…I didn't know how you'd react. Plus, Aunt May told me that as an unclaimed omega going into heat the first time, it'd be really stressful and exhausting. That's why I didn't go to school today," Peter told him. "Aunt May kind of…walked me through the workings of being an omega."

Harry could only image what that was like. Dear God…

"Well, Peter, I'm your alpha and your my omega," Harry began. "We could…you know, solve the problem of you not being claimed right here and now if you want." He grinned at Peter, hoping to lighten his mood. It backfired.

"Harry, I…I…I'm just not…not ready for th-that yet," Peter stammered, his face turning incredibly red. "I want to, Harry, I really do…but…but this is…is my first heat. And…Aunt May said that the first heat is the…worst…" He didn't need to say anymore; Harry already understood.

"Okay. That's fine," he said. Apparently, that wasn't the right thing to say because tears welled up in Peter's eyes again.

"No, it's not… You're an alpha. You…you want to…to…to…" The tears began flowing and Harry acted automatically. He reached out and pulled Peter into his arms, holding him tightly, firmly, slightly letting Peter know that he wasn't alone.

"You're right, Peter: I do want to. I really, really want to. But I only want to if you're ready to. I'm not going to make you or guilt you into it. I want you to want it just as much as I do and be willing to give it to me," Harry explained to him gently, his hands rubbing up and down Peter's back soothingly. "So stop worrying. Everything's fine. Better than fine, actually. Everything is perfect." Peter pulled back and looked into his eyes.

"Really, Harry?" he asked, sniffing. Harry smiled at him.

"Really, Pete. Now lie back down. I bet you stressed yourself worrying about this," Harry said as he guided Peter back to a laying position. He then situated himself behind Peter's body so that they were spooning comfortably on the bed. "Get some rest, Peter. We're good."

"I love you, Harry," Peter said softly as his body began to relax.

"I love you too, Parker. Now get some sleep because I have the feeling that Uncle Ben and Aunt May are going to kill me when they get home," Harry said.

"Probably," Peter agreed and nodded off to sleep.

Not long thereafter, Harry, too, fell asleep, his arms wrapped protectively around Peter's body. When Uncle Ben and Aunt May arrived home later that day and found them like that, they left them be. They didn't need to be scolded until they woke up.