Harry was rather amused when Peter came back with a different camera around his neck. "Should I be worried about you hording cameras?" He asked.

"I don't know if worried is the word I would use." Peter said with a grin as Harry took his hand and started pulling him towards the building's elevator.

"Oh, but you won't correct the use of the word hording?" Harry asked, looking at Peter over his shoulder and raising an eyebrow.

"I have a lot of camera. So I think you're pretty justified in calling it hording." He replied with a shrug, pressing the down arrow to call the elevator.

"Why?"

"I enjoy taking pictures." Peter snapped a photo of Harry to emphasize his point as the elevator doors opened.

"Alright, but why do you like doing that?" He reached to press the ground floor button, but Peter beat him to it.

"I like to capture memories. Besides, it's a lot easier to show someone a picture than a memory. And the phrase 'a picture's worth a thousand words' is true. If I were more articulate with words I could probably come up with about a thousand to describe you, but with a picture I don't have to have a description. I can just see. Besides, memories often times fade faster than pictures."

Peter's mini-rant took up the entire elevator ride, and what a shame that was because Harry had been planning for Peter's mouth to be doing something completely different, but he didn't mind. He could see what Peter meant. He'd much rather look at that fire in Peter's eyes as he talked about something he was so passionate about than just hear about it.

So, he took the initiative to pull Peter's camera strap over his head and take a picture of Peter, who looked rather startled by the action. "Damn. Missed it. Oh well, confused puppy look works too. Send that to me later." Harry said, handing the Camera back to Peter and stepping out of the elevator.

"If you give me your keys, I can have a driver come and get your car and take it home for you so that you don't have to come back for it." Harry offered, pulling out a phone and typing a text message.

"Don't have a car."

Harry looked up at that. "Do you just walk everywhere?"

"No. I have a bike." Peter pointed to the bike that looked like it should have been replaced years ago. Harry kept himself from telling Peter there was no point in a bike lock because there were far nicer bikes to be stolen in the area. He did, however, decide right then that he would have to get Peter a car at some point. Or at least a new bike.

"I'll send someone to get your bike then. Just give me the lock combination and your address."

Peter told him both pieces of information and watched as Harry typed them into his phone, presumably sending them to one of his employees. "A driver should be here soon to pick us up. No more than five minutes."

Apparently Harry decide to carry out his plans for the elevator on the sidewalk as they waited, wrapping an arm around Peter's waist and pulling him up against him. As they kissed Peter felt Harry's hand slip lower until it was in his back pocket, and then suddenly Harry was pulling back with his phone, unlocking it and pressing different keys.

"If you wanted my phone you could have just asked." Peter said, moving next to Harry to see what he was doing with his phone.

"I could have, but that was so much more fun than simply asking." Harry said with a smirk, putting his contact information into the phone. He pulled Peter's face closer and kissed his cheek, taking a picture on the phone, and setting it as his contact picture, and sending it to himself so that he would have Peter's phone number as well as a contact picture for him.

The driver pulled up in a sleek black car as Harry slipped Peter's phone back into his back pocket.

"Where to, Mr. Osborn?" The driver asked as they got into the back.

Harry looked at Peter for an answer, and he gave the name of a Chinese restaurant he liked. He wasn't sure if Harry wanted something nicer than that, but he had said he could pick, and Peter really mostly knew fast food places.

Peter and Harry made idle chit chat on the way to the restaurant, trying to learn a bit more about each other. The driver dropped them off and informed Harry he'd stay nearby to pick him and his friend up when they were done.

Harry shot Peter a look when he pulled out his wallet to pay for the food they ordered. "You pick, I pay. That was the deal, remember?" Harry told him, and glared until Peter put his wallet back in his pocket.

"Can we switch it up next time?" Peter asked, hoping that if they did Harry wouldn't pick something too expensive, but feeling like he shouldn't just let Harry pay for everything.

"There is going to be a next time then?"

"I would certainly hope so." Peter replied with a bright smile.

"How about we just get ice cream after this, and you can buy that if it makes you feel better? And next time we can just do movies at one of our houses so that no one has to pay." Harry suggested as they took their food to one of the tall tables with the chairs that had long legs.

"That sounds like a good compromise." Peter agreed, taking a quick picture of Harry as he took out his chopsticks.

"I don't think I was doing anything worth taking a picture of." Harry commented, looking at Peter curiously.

"Just figured I'd get a picture of our first date." Harry said, letting the camera hang around his neck again. "Can you teach me how to use those?" He asked, pointing at the chopsticks.

"Because of course the proper way to learn how to eat Chinese food is to ask an American." Harry teased, but scooted his chair closer and took one of Peter's hands in his, moving his fingers on the chopsticks to get them in the right position.

The lesion mostly consisted of them laughing and teasing each other, but Peter finally got it to work, so they started eating, not moving their chairs back to where they had been.

"I still feel like I'm doing it wrong." Peter told Harry.

"Oh, you are, but they're still picking up food, so I wouldn't worry too much about it. Or is worry still the wrong word?" Harry told him with a grin.

"Totally the wrong word." Peter agreed solemnly before laughing. "Or at least not the one I would use, but since I'm always right . . ."

Harry flicked a piece of rice at him in response to that. "Don't do that, we'll get kicked out." Harry warned when Peter looked like he was going to do the same back.

"But you get to do it?"

"Well, you're right about that, so maybe you are right about everything." Was Harry's response.

Peter still flicked the piece of rice at Harry.

They ended up walking around until they found an ice-cream stand, and somehow they ended up splitting the bill for the ice-cream since Peter refused to be talked into letting Harry pay completely. Peter grumbled about deals only mattering when Harry agreed with them until Harry shut him up with a spoonful of ice-cream shoved in his mouth.

When people took pictures of them, Peter returned the favor, lifting up his camera and taking pictures back at them until they went away.

They didn't bother to call the driver to take Peter home, choosing to walk there. Sure enough, Peter's bike was there.

Aunt May wasn't home yet, which saved them awkward introductions. Peter made tea for them, which they drank as they waited for Harry's driver to come and get Harry.

And after that date they were seeing each other constantly.

3 months later

"Harry Osborn. You did not get me a car." Peter said, looking at the car with the small bow stuck on the window sitting in his driveway with his boyfriend leaning against it. "Harry, that's way too much."

"It's way past time you got rid of that bike." Harry countered.

"Maybe I like that bike."

"You complain about that bike at least three times a week."

"I complain about you at least three times an hour, but I still keep you around." Peter teased, walking up to stand in front of Harry.

"Well, I'm not taking the car back. So you can just deal with it."

"I hate you."

"You love me."

"Yeah, you're right." Peter replied, pecking Harry's lips. "I'm still not letting you buy me a car though."

"You don't get a choice. I already did." Harry replied, walking into Peter's house like it was his own, and grinning at Peter over his shoulder.