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It had felt like the natural flow of things in the moment, but looking back on it, Harry, Peter, and I kind of rushed into things.
After the untimely demise of Gwen Stacy, they just sort of took me in. Then, Peter and I started doing the whole friends with benefits thing, and I became acutely aware that Harry and him were also doing the whole friends with benefits thing.
One moment, we were friends, best friends, and then it was the three of us, having sex in their apartment, Harry and me worshiping Peter in the middle.
Then, I was practically living in their apartment even if I was really still living in a dorm on campus. We were practically a polycule, except not really, because I didn’t think Harry was into me and I wasn’t too into him.
I think both of us were just waiting for Peter to get his shit together, which, in hindsight, was probably never going to happen.
Still, Peter seemed to think the arrangement was without flaws, because it meant he could be as flakey as he wanted to be and still get laid.
I didn’t mind, though. He seemed to be going through a lot, even if we were never quite sure what it was.
Point is, Harry and I were on opposite ends of a relationship that wasn’t quite a finished triangle. Until one day, it was.
Peter invited me over one Saturday and I assumed it was for adult fun time, so I took a shower, packed my strapon and got myself excited.
Peter opened the door before I knocked.
"MJ! Hi! I was just, uh, going out." He held out his camera as an explanation and I crossed my arms. It took him a second to register the sour look on my face and after a moment of buffering, added, "Oh, shit, I'm sorry, I totally forgot I invited you over, fuck…"
"You know, for a guy with no social life you sure go out a lot," I commented, exasperated but honestly not surprised.
"I'm sorry. Freelance has a tighter schedule than you'd think."
I sighed. "Osborn's already practically covering your half of the rent. Can't you miss a day? You got me all excited for nothing."
He looked back into the apartment and then past me into the hallway like he was making the biggest decision of his life. "I can't right now. Jameson wants me covering this thing."
"This thing?"
"This thing." He shook his head and put his hands on my shoulders. "Look, I'll be back in a few hours, I'll call you when I'm free."
"But Peter, I'm horny now."
"Harry's in." He stood to the side and gestured for me to go inside. He seemed to think that solved the issue. I didn't much have the heart to tell him it didn't.
I went inside, followed only by a chorus of apologies.
Harry was in his bedroom (all three of us often slept there, really, but only Harry had a say in the pretentious decorations so I still called it his room) shirtless on the bed. There was a candle on the bedside table as well as a half empty bottle of wine next to a full glass.
He regarded me with little interest. "Hey, MJ. I think Pete just left," he said, not looking up from his phone.
"Yeah, I ran into him on the way in. He suggested we get on without him since he blew us off."
"I wish he'd blow me off..." Harry sat up and looked me up and down. "But uh...would you want to? We've never really done that without him." He took a sip of his wine.
"I guess we might as well. If we're going to be doing the whole sharing Peter thing, we should see if we have chemistry. He seems to think we're a polycule, so maybe we should try," I reasoned. He hesitated so I quickly added, "If you're not into me, that's fine."
"Well no, it's not that. You're Mary Jane Watson, of course I'm into you. It's just, well, with Gwendy-” He stopped himself immediately. No. Don’t bring up the dead girlfriend. Why would you bring up the dead girlfriend.
However, I gestured for him to continue and said, “You can talk about it. You don’t have to, you don’t owe me whatever you were going to say, but you can tell me, okay?”
He put his thoughts together, continuing to sip, and then said, “With Gwendy…it sort of formed differently. Because the three of us grew up together. And it’s kind of because of her that I ever hung out with Parker in the first place. I don’t think I loved her quite like he did, but…I did love her. And she loved us. And Pete loved me and that made my heart hurt, still makes my heart hurt. Because he’s my best friend and part of me really badly wants to keep him to myself, put a ring on it but I can’t do that because my dad would kill me, because the world would kill me and Parker doesn’t deserve to get called a faggot for the rest of his life.”
Hearing him say all that sent a spike through my heart, for several reasons. “I’m sorry,” was all I could say.
“Why? You didn’t make me gay.” Then, he snorted. “Peter did.”
I was glad he could find some humor in it, but I was still very cautious as I said, “Let’s just blame everything on Peter.”
“Easy solution.” His smile faded a bit and, more seriously, he said, “I know I’ve said this before, in less flattering ways, because at the time I was really angry, but it felt like he was trying to replace her with you. But I’m glad it worked out. Because some things with the three of us feel like deja vu, but some things are really different, because obviously you’re not the same person.”
I nodded. “It feels sometimes like I’m walking in someone else's shoes, even if the two of you insist I’m not.”
“I know what it feels like to have pre-set expectations cast on to you.” He held out his glass and I tapped it with an imaginary one. They, he grinned and added, “Not to make everything about me.”
I rolled my eyes. “No, never.”
"Alright." He set his wine glass to the side and stretched on the bed. "I think I'm drunk enough to have sex with a woman now."
"Oh, is that what it takes?"
"Yep. I was actually really easy this whole time." He scooted closer to me on the bed and looked me over. "So uh…what do we do?"
"You tell me."
He rolled his eyes. "Not helpful."
I shrugged. "I guess we should just do what we would if Peter were here."
"If Peter were here," Harry said, boredly, "I'd be giving him oral."
I gestured to my pelvis and he shrugged in agreement, laying over me with his face near my thighs. He got my jeans off and slowly worked his tongue along the outside of my underwear.
He hummed. "You smell good."
I raised an eyebrow but the statement seemed genuine. "Uh, thanks. I try, I guess."
He pulled my underwear aside and got to it, sliding his tongue up to my clit and rolling his mouth there, sucking ever so often.
I was definitely getting turned on, and he definitely knew what he was doing, which kind of surprised me. "Jesus, Har, why didn't you tell me you knew how to eat pussy?"
He didn't respond, just kept at it, changing his pattern so often until he found something I definitely liked. I hummed to let him know and he repeated the motion over and over, slow and deliberate. His eyes had a sort of gloss to them that I'd seen him have before a good few times now, just never for me.
He started driving his hips into the bed, focused expression, little noises leaving his throat while he ate me out.
"Enjoying yourself?" I asked, my face lightly flushed from watching him.
"Mhmm," he hummed around my clit. He pulled away very briefly to ask, "Can you play with my hair?"
I laced my fingers in his reddish-brown hair and very suddenly remembered that Harry was a sub. Peter and I could switch back and forth, but Harry was always the most bottom.
Keeping this in mind, I gripped tighter in his hair and pulled a bit, leading him where I wanted him. He hummed at the tension.
"Is that alright?" I asked.
He nodded and eagerly moved with my hand, letting me push him around and then roughly pull him back once I'd had enough.
"Lay down," I ordered.
He nodded and quickly obeyed, keeping his legs spread and open to me. I started getting him undressed, my eyes wandering over his freckled body repeatedly.
It was odd, because I'd seen Harry naked several times. I'd watched Peter penetrating him, for God's sake, but this felt different, because it was for me. Not for Peter.
I straddled his waist and he looked up at me eagerly, face flushed and eyes wide.
I took my top off after realizing I still had it on and then positioned myself to tease the tip of his cock.
He bit his lip and waited patiently for me to sink myself onto him.
"That's it, baby," I muttered, and I didn't really know why, because I'd never called him that, but with the look on his face it was kind of hard not to.
Once he was snug inside me, I started to slowly move up and down.
"Fuck, MJ…been a while…"
"Since you were in someone?"
He nodded, his hips bucking up a little bit, impatient with my pace.
"Be a good little Osborn and hold still," I murmured, his submissive nature continuing to send me on a power trip.
"Y-Yes, Daddy..." he said, breathlessly. My eyes shot open. "I mean, Mommy," he corrected. "Er, no, sorry, that's probably weird, un-unless you want me to call you Mommy, uh-"
I laughed, surprised. "You can call me Daddy if you want, I don't mind. Always figured you liked guys better."
"Are you sure? That's not like…weird?"
"I've been called weirder, Har, Daddy is perfectly acceptable. Now why don't you tell Daddy what you want from her, hmm?"
His soul seemed to leave his body and he only squeaked, clearly happy with this progression.
"I'll-I'll hold still if you just want to use me…" he said breathlessly.
"For a little bit, okay? You'll be my good boy and let me use you?"
"MJ…" he whined. "You can't just say things like that without warning me…"
“Did you not like it?”
“I didn’t say that.”
I rode him for a while, thoroughly enjoying the little noises he made while he sat patiently. I started touching myself as well, applying pressure to my clit and grinding on his stomach.
I came on his cock and he sank onto the bed at the feeling of me tightening around him.
"I have my strap," I said, catching my breath and preparing to go again. "Do you want it?"
"Yes, Daddy..." He looked up at me with eager eyes.
I pulled off him and retrieved the toy.
“Can you, uh, take me on the desk?” he asked, when I was strapped in.
“Sure. Any particular reason?”
He shrugged. “Hotter. If you like…sit in the chair and I sit in your lap."
"You're the oddest kinds of kinky, Osborn."
"That's not that kinky, or do you forget what kind of shit Pete's into?" He said, crossing his arms.
I sat at the desk and realized I wasn't sure how easy it would be for him to ride me. The strap wasn't built to go up, really, without making my back bend at an uncomfortable angle.
Harry realized this as well, holding a hand up to his chin like Sherlock solving a complicated case.
"Just bend over," I said, finally, and he sighed dramatically before doing just that.
I remembered to get the lube from his sock drawer and took the time to get him ready for me until he was quite literally begging for me to just fuck him already.
I lined myself up and found a good rhythm, one hand on his hip and the other stabilizing us on the desk. I wasn’t happy with the frequency of noises coming out of his mouth and started going much harder, slamming my hips against his ass each time.
"Good boy, taking Daddy's cock up your ass so well..."
"Yes, I'm a good boy, I'm a good boy, I wanna be your good boy," he rambled.
Wow. Harry has some issues, I think.
It was hot, though, to hear him come undone like that, his voice cracking and his eyes squeezed shut.
I wasn’t sure how long it was until he said, "Fuck, Daddy! I'm gonna come, please, please touch me, Daddy, I'm gonna cum!"
I bent over and wrapped an arm around him to give him what he was asking for. I gripped his cock and stroked once, twice, three times and he was coming all over my hand and the desk.
I kept going for just a little bit, achieving my second release a few moments later. As I slowed down, he slumped onto the desk and hummed.
"Bed," he mumbled.
I led him back to the bed and he laid down. I thought to grab him some water, but when I returned he was already drinking the rest of his wine glass.
"You know, that's probably not the most hydrating thing, right?" I told him.
He shrugged and then his eyes lingered on my still naked form for a bit too long and he started to get hard again.
I laughed and he rolled his eyes.
"Do you wanna go again?" I asked.
He shook his head. "Bones hurt. I'm an old man."
"You're 22."
"An old man!"
I laid next to him and got a wonderful idea. "Do you want to warm your cock in Daddy's pussy for a little bit?"
He nodded, a little too eagerly, and I helped him slide back inside me, content to let him spoon me and play with my hair while I kept his cock warm.
"Pete's gonna make fun of me," he said after a moment.
"I'm gonna make fun of you too, Har," I told him.
He groaned and rolled out of me, laying on his back with his hands covering his face.