Harry Ryan has two first names (sybarite) wrote in rooms,
Re: harry/mj: toxin
The horror was written plainly in her face, and Harry did let her go. A moment of shock slackened his fingers, and the bruise of his grip softened into something near release, at least enough of one that Mary Jane could pull away if she had the strength. "Nothing's wrong," he promised. "Nothing." Nevermind her fever and the buzzing rush of adrenaline in his body. Nevermind the way he grabbed her again when he thought she might run. He couldn't let her do that, he couldn't let her leave him. If she left like Gwen had left, Harry would be left with no one.
He drew Mary Jane into the protective circle of his arms, despite the way she pulled away in fear and panic. He kept her close, and when she struggled, his fingers curled tighter. He squeezed her by the arms and by the neck, and he fisted his hands in her fever-damp hair when he tried to pull her in for a kiss that would bruise too.