Living with someone you were into and watching them be with someone else was kind of a nightmare.
There was this uncomfortable, twisting feeling in Harry's chest for the weeks following, and he had no idea what to do about it. It wasn't even as if they were overt about it. They were a little bit more affectionate towards each other but, really, if someone didn't already know they were together, they might be fooled into thinking everything was the same as it had been before.
Maybe he'd get over it? Truthfully, spending more time with the two of them probably wouldn't help with that but he wasn't just going to bail because he couldn't sort out his own feelings. That wouldn't be fair.
It was ridiculous anyway. So, what if they weren't in love with each other and obviously together now? Harry's own feelings had developed for both of them. That wouldn't be good even on the impossible notion that they were into him as well.
They were both still just as affectionate with him as they had been before as well, which was not helping but he couldn't bring himself to duck under the arm when Peter decided to throw one around his shoulders or step back when Wade decided to lift him from his feet in a hug.
He was so screwed.
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There was guilt. It squeezed at Peter's chest, expanding until he felt sick with it and he had no idea what to do about it.
He was in love with Wade. He knew that, had known that for a while, and he was happy with him, beyond happy that they'd finally managed to do something about it, that Wade had stopped trying to shove him away.
There was also Harry.
It felt like cheating, almost, when he put an arm around Harry and dragged the other man to his side and he felt that same sort of contentment that he should only be feeling with Wade. It was disconcerting that he had finally gotten what he wanted, but managed to gain feelings for someone else as well.
He couldn't tell Wade. Despite how brash, overconfident, uncaring Wade could appear to anyone who met him, if you dug a little deeper, you'd find a whole pile of insecurities that included the belief that Peter shouldn't want to be with him.
The real problem might have been how really; truly content he was when they were all three together, when he could sit on the couch with them, tangled together. That was a problem.
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Wade scratched the barrel of his gun on the side of his head as he watched Harry and Peter. From where he was crouched on the small balcony, he could see them both in the kitchen.
Lookin' pretty cozy
"Yeah." Wade tilted his head. Was he jealous? Okay, so he was still a little amazed that Peter wanted to be with him, and maybe he was a little worried that Peter might get sick of him, but that wasn't his biggest worry at the moment.
That you want both of them?
Oh, yeah. There was that. He was fucked in the head, but even he knew that he couldn't say that shit out loud. Right. He was lucky enough that Peter wanted him. Wade rested his chin on the gun as he thought about it.
His imagination might have gotten away with him, too. He had imagined Peter holding Harry down in a bed, but in all of those, he was there too. There was lots of new stuff they could do with three instead of two.
Suuuure. More likely they'll get together and leave you behind
Maybe this was reinforcing his whole belief that Peter was way out of his league anyway. He'd gotten what he'd wanted for years, he wasn't supposed to be thinking about this shit. Still, he couldn't seem to help it when he watched Harry laugh about something, leaning into Peter as he did so.
I'm sure Peter will be super happy about it
Right. He would just have to keep his trap shut about it. He could do that.
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It happened while he was out. He'd stopped by some tiny coffee shop when he'd heard the crash from outside. Then came the screaming. The few customers that were in the café with him, as well as the two employees, freaked out as well and Harry stared out at the street, eyes wide, when he saw a car fly by.
A little stupidly, he moved closer to the windows, watching, a little stunned, as a man with metal arms fought with a suited up Peter. He watched Peter weave in and out of those arms, trying to both dodge the hits and catch the people that the man was using to distract him.
"Hey! Get behind the counter, kid! Are you insane?!"
Someone grabbed his arm, and it was only then that Harry turned his attention away from the fight to the older man in a business suite that had been in front of him in line before. Then he was being jerked to the side.
Later, he'd find out that a car had been thrown and the older man had saved his life by pulling him out of the way. At that moment, all he really registered was his feet catching on something, of tripping, of his head connecting with the counter.
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Peter bent where stood, hands on his knees and breathing hard over Octavius. Fighting with him was a sprint match, trying to avoid those arms and prevent the man from killing anyone. Last time they'd fought, he'd gotten away and Peter wanted to make sure that didn't happen again.
He had knocked the man out, hopefully that would last long enough for him to be taken away, and had tied him down with enough webbing that it would take more than his metal arms to get out of it.
He straightened finally and looked around. People were staring, some of them still entirely too close but he was used to that. Some people just didn't run far enough when these fights went down, even if they should.
He went around for a bit, helping the people down that he had webbed up high that Octavius had thrown to distract him and then he looked to across the street and saw the little café across the street and went over to it just as a dozen police cars stopped in the street, blocking it off.
There was a car, half in and half out of the front of the shop and Peter jumped up on it, peering in to see if anyone was hurt, or worse. He was debating on whether he should let the rescue workers deal with it when he spotted something that made him freeze.
There were several people hiding behind the still intact counter, and an older man had pulled an unconscious smaller figure there too. Heart beating harder than it had been during the fight, Peter jumped down into the half destroyed café and he came around to the people.
There were questions from them, relieved exclamations that he was there and they could get out, cursing even, but Peter barely heard any of it. All he could focus on was the blood staining the side of Harry's face and his closed eyes.
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Harry was running. There was this prevalent darkness around that kept him from really seeing where he was going but he knew he really did need to run. He could hardly even see the ground, which was probably why he tripped over something and fell.
He turned, sitting up as he did so, scrambling back a bit when he realized it was a tombstone he'd tripped over. One of those smaller ones that didn't sit very high in the ground. He couldn't read the name on it but that didn't matter.
"Potter."
Harry jerked, turning and scrambling to his feet to face Voldemort. He could see the vague outlines his followers surrounding them and the two bodies lying on the ground. Two? He stared down at one, sure it was Cedric.
Then Voldemort lifted a foot, turning the body more towards Harry. It wasn't Cedric and he recognized the other one as well. He opened his mouth and knew he was going to scream even before then sound came out. Then-
Harry jerked awake, choking and trying to move but finding something restricting his movement. His head pounded ruthlessly and he tried to get away from what he realized a second later were arms holding onto him.
"Harry!" A voice yelled, close to him, one that he recognized.
Harry stopped struggling. His vision blurred and he squinted against the sunlight to stare up at Peter's face. He surged forward then, ignoring the renewed pain in his head, clinging to Peter tightly. He wasn't in the café anymore and they were alone, but it didn't really matter where they were.
Harry just clung to him, disoriented, the remnants of the nightmare still there. He'd had that nightmare a lot. Over the years, he'd had a lot of nightmares about that graveyard. He blinked several times as the images came back to him and his fingers gripped desperately at Peter's suit.
He squeezed his eyes shut when a wave of dizziness hit him but he still heard the thud of someone else's feet hitting behind them and then footsteps. Another hand settled on his back and he didn't realize he'd been crying until that hand turned him around in Peter's arms and Wade used gloved thumbs to wipe them away, the rest of his big hands on either side of Harry's face.
"You're okay, kitten," he said, even as he tilted Harry's head to get a look at the wound. Harry closed his eyes again, missing the look Wade sent Peter about not taking him to a doctor, and Peter's mumbled reply that he'd panicked and only thought about getting him out of there.
Harry reached forward, tugging at Wade until the man inched closer to them. He kept tugging until he was sandwiched in-between the two larger men, until there was no space between them. Only then did he feel more settled.
"M'sorry," he mumbled into the front of Wade's suit. A hand settled in his hair.
"What are you sorry for?"
"Love you both," he got out before the darkness that had been threatening the edges of his vision overtook it completely. He was fine with that, as long as he could stay right where he was.