CHEMICALS

'cause i'm scared

Peter was in deep shit. He was aware of that perfectly.

He went to a party, in the intention of getting shitfaced and a good fuck. Preferably.
He got home from that party, only to get chained to a fucking kitchen chair.
By his fucking best friend.

"Did you have to tie me up?" Peter asked calmly, not wanting to show how much he was freaked out.

"Yes," Harry rolled his eyes, as he leaned to the table next to him. "You would run away. It's vibranium, by the way."

Peter didn't answer just rolled his eyes too.
As cheerfully as Harry told him, a shiver went down on his spine. Peter knew he had stolen those chains and handcuffs from the SHIELD headquarter. Once Peter discovered about Harry being the Goblin, he could connect the dots.
There was commotion, which was caused by the Goblin weeks ago at the SHIELD, but Spider-Man didn't showed up. There were the Avengers for that, he had thought.

But Peter wouldn't have thought in his wildest dreams that those exact stolen handcuffs would end up on him. On his fucking hands. The heavy chains contained his ankles too, and he couldn't get rid of it. Because his friend put them on.

Harry. His best friend.
Who, apparently, was the fucking Green Goblin.
Who he was after for fucking months.

He still couldn't wrap his head around this shitty mess.

"I can't believe you've fucking done this." Peter whispered. I can't believe you were the one, who murdered people recklessly.

"What? Kidnapped you?" Harry chuckled.

"No. I'm just upset because you messed up my hair." Peter said sarcastically.

"Good, then."

"And while you're here trying to take credit for my so-called kidnapping," he glared. "You asked if I'll walk you home, how was I supposed to know you planned to chain me up in our fucking kitchen?"

Harry didn't answer, just got up to his feet and opened the fridge. Peter scoffed at his disappointed expression at the almost empty sight in front of him. It would have been his turn to go grocery shopping, but his depression got the best of him in these couple of days. So Harry would remain hungry. Good.

"Why are you doing this?" Peter frowned. "Harry, you're not like this."

It turned out, that was the wrong thing to say. Harry stepped back and without any warning, he stabbed a knife into Peter's left thigh. It got him as a surprise and groaned loudly at the pain. Harry slowly removed the knife, and he took in the sight of the whimpering Peter.

"...the fuck, Harry," he said breathlessly. "Don't do this." Let me go.

"I'm sorry, but I can't have you saving the day again," Harry put away the knife. "Don't make me do this again."

"If you– If you're gonna kill me," Peter swallowed hard. "Just do it man, don't chicken out, just do it."

Harry smirked. "You don't think it would be that easy, do you?"

"Let's get on with it, I don't really care." Peter shrugged, trying to ignore the pain in his leg. Death is calm.

"You will see, Parker," he leaned down, looking deeply into Peter's brown eyes. "You're gonna beg for death. I wanna see it, so we'll wait for it."

"That's it? I can beg you now, if you really want that bad."

"Oh, no, Parker, you don't understand," he sighed, as if it were Peter's fault. "I want to see you screaming 'til your voice is gone. I wanna see you weeping 'til your eyes cry blood too. I want to see you suffer."