This was a random thought that struck me after reading more noncon Harry/Peter fics than can be considered healthy...not sure if those were inspiration or not. Maybe I wanted a way for Harry to get what he wanted without hurting Peter...or maybe I'm attempting to rationalize a completely random fic...*shrug*. Either way, I'm new to this fandom so...Hi! *waves* *realizes hand she was waving is covered in blood* oh shit...um...I have an explanation for that! Honestly...please don't run away! ...and don't look in the trunk of my car either...um...

so anyways... a couple notes:
This is Rated M for literally like three lines of graphic sex and a bunch of swearing. SO yeah, you're hereby warned.
Slash: i.e. a emotional/physical romantic/sexual relationship between two guys (or girls, but that usually has the notice of femslash). Once again, you're hereby warned.
Although it is not specifically stated, I just want to clarify that in the below fic, Harry is wearing a condom. (because condoms are just a good idea)
All spelling errors in dialogue are intentional. All grammar and spelling errors outside of dialogue are not, so feel free to bring those to my attention if you'd like. I did proofread this, but I operate without a beta (I don't know what keeps happening to the betas I try out...*glances guiltily at trunk and bloody shovel*)
The title is in reference to the lyrics: You can't always get what you want; but if you try sometimes you just might find you get what you need. - The Rolling Stones (not 100% appropriate for the fic, but that's what happens when you can't figure out a title and you fit a lyric to a story and not the story to a lyric... it works for now)

Disclaimer: Spider-Man and all characters there-in are not mine. OC is mine...but if anyone wants him, I probably won't put up much of a fight.

PLEASE Review. I like reviews, even critique-y ones. They make me happy, and a happy Di has less messes to clean up in her car trunk...um, ahem...stop looking at me like that! They had it coming! ...um *coughcough* Aaaanyways...

Because The Stones Had It Right

"Yes, right there. Yes, Peter! Pete, just like that." Harry moaned, shifting up so he could watch that wet mouth, lips bruised dark rose, sliding up and down his hard cock. "Fuck, yes! You love it, don't you, Peter? Love swallowing down my thick dick, don't you? So fucking good, Pete, so fucking good."

His fingers clenched in thick brown hair, refusing to let him up as his hips jerked slightly. Fire and ice simultaneously flashed up his spine and he came with a sharp cry, "God, Peter!" Releasing the soft hair, he collapsed back on the bed, boneless. He was still panting when he heard the smaller man moving around, searching for his clothes. He ignored him for the moment, until he heard a dry laugh.

"What the hell's so funny?" Harry demanded, pushing up on his elbows.

He found himself starring into blue eyes, twinkling with amusement. "What's so funny is you. How this neva changes. So when are you going to ask him out already, dahling?"

"I'm sure that I have no clue what you're talking about." his tone sent a flash of warning.

As usual, his companion ignored it. "Peter. Who else would I be talking about? Child, you never say any other name. Dudn't matta if you're being kind or harsh to me. Its always Peter, Peter, Peter, and sometimes Pete." He had a flamboyant accent that had a way of grating on Harry's nerves instantly.

"You need to mind your own fucking business…"

"But, dahling, this is my business. After all, I've been playin' 'Peter' for three months." he stopped to smirk. "Chrissy da Man told me that's the longest you've ever kept one of us around. At first, I thought I must be good (which, of course, I am) but then I realized: I must look like him."

Harry stayed silent for a moment, angry and embarrassed and still realizing that he was right. From his hair, to his eyes, to the perfect height of his forehead and the build of his frame and hips, he was so alike to Parker he could've been a brother. It made it easy to overlook how his lips were a bit too full, cheekbones just a touch too sharp, and how Peter would never have a tattoo of that and especially not there. But out of all of them, he had the strongest resemblance. If only he….

"Even if you do, the second you open that damn mouth of yours, the illusion is ruined. Haven't I ever told you that I like you quite a bit more when you're not talking?" Harry snapped harshly.

The man (or was it boy?) laughed. "Many, many times, sweetheart. So seriously, when you gonna ask him out, child?"

"I don't pay you to ask questions, and I sure as fuck don't pay you to give me love advice." Harry snarled.

The man smiled apologetically. "Now don't get so upset, dahling. Wouldn't want ta piss off my best customer. And don't worry, I'll see myself out." He finished dressing and went to the bedroom door.

When Harry noticed him (God, what was his real name? Had he ever asked?) standing there, continuing to stare at him, he caught his eye. "What now? I'm pretty sure I already paid you." he snapped, all too anxious to be rid of this man…this boy who looked so like Peter but could never be the real thing.

He stared at him for a moment before sighing. "Look, its not like I want to be givin' up the regular paycheck you give me or anything, but child, if you love him…you should at least give him a shot. Ya know…talk to him, see if there's anything there… If you love him." And with that he turned and walked out without giving Harry a chance to respond.

Harry stared at the empty doorway for a few moments before getting to his feet. Going over to the cabinet where he kept the brandy, he tried to fight a hopeless knot in his chest.

'If you love him.'

"I do love him." he spoke aloud to the empty room. "I love him…and I hate him."

And as he poured himself a drink, he found himself struggling to decide which one was stronger.