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( I CLOSE MY EYES AND DREAM AWAY )
Okay, yeah, yeah. Bye!
[ closing and locking the apartment door after them, he leans against it momentarily and heaves a big sigh.
may and happy are definitely not going to some late night "volunteer" function for may's job. peter may smile and he may nod and try and shove them out the door while giving happy a rather stern look behind may's back, but he knows better. his peter tingle knows better. that's one thing he can cross off his never-ending list of things to be unsure about.
since touching down in the states from their trip to italy, peter's been grateful that may's welcomed the idea of mj staying with them for a few nights. it'd been as obvious as day to him that mj hadn't wanted to go home, and when no one appeared at the airport to collect her, it'd only made sense that she come back with them. he had a spare bed in his bunk and, well… it's mj.
he likes mj.
and mj likes him.
and also spider-man.
spider-man also likes mj. it just made sense.
it'd taken a lot to convince ned to leave him be for the night. while he was definitely all about broing it up, he was still sporting some bruises and sore ribs after his ordeal with beck. spending the night on the floor cross-legged and trying to build a star wars ship, while definitely exciting, wasn't something he felt entirely up for.
clearing his throat, he pushes himself off the door and begins to walk into the living room. it's not the same as their old apartment, a route that he's still relearning after years of spending his life in uncle ben's old home. maybe it's a good thing that they no longer live in that apartment. some of the memories had been weighing on them a lot. it's good to feel lighter, like dust.
walking to his bedroom, he leans against the open doorframe and smiles at mj. he'd like to think she's comfortable in this apartment—or as comfortable as he is. while he doesn't want her to feel uncomfortable, this is something that's brand new to them.
and he doesn't want to mess it up. what if she decides she dislikes him because of how he positions his pillows? ]
So, uh, May and Happy are gone. [ crossing his arms against his chest, he immediately unwraps them once he realises he doesn't look cool nor does he know how to properly stand. she's in his room and, well… she's in his room. ]
Did you want anything? A drink? Maybe a snack? We could go get a taco or a hotdog… [ he twists slightly and throws his thumb over his shoulder. ] There's also a really good sandwich shop a few blocks away and a really cool cat.
[ closing and locking the apartment door after them, he leans against it momentarily and heaves a big sigh.
may and happy are definitely not going to some late night "volunteer" function for may's job. peter may smile and he may nod and try and shove them out the door while giving happy a rather stern look behind may's back, but he knows better. his peter tingle knows better. that's one thing he can cross off his never-ending list of things to be unsure about.
since touching down in the states from their trip to italy, peter's been grateful that may's welcomed the idea of mj staying with them for a few nights. it'd been as obvious as day to him that mj hadn't wanted to go home, and when no one appeared at the airport to collect her, it'd only made sense that she come back with them. he had a spare bed in his bunk and, well… it's mj.
he likes mj.
and mj likes him.
and also spider-man.
spider-man also likes mj. it just made sense.
it'd taken a lot to convince ned to leave him be for the night. while he was definitely all about broing it up, he was still sporting some bruises and sore ribs after his ordeal with beck. spending the night on the floor cross-legged and trying to build a star wars ship, while definitely exciting, wasn't something he felt entirely up for.
clearing his throat, he pushes himself off the door and begins to walk into the living room. it's not the same as their old apartment, a route that he's still relearning after years of spending his life in uncle ben's old home. maybe it's a good thing that they no longer live in that apartment. some of the memories had been weighing on them a lot. it's good to feel lighter, like dust.
walking to his bedroom, he leans against the open doorframe and smiles at mj. he'd like to think she's comfortable in this apartment—or as comfortable as he is. while he doesn't want her to feel uncomfortable, this is something that's brand new to them.
and he doesn't want to mess it up. what if she decides she dislikes him because of how he positions his pillows? ]
So, uh, May and Happy are gone. [ crossing his arms against his chest, he immediately unwraps them once he realises he doesn't look cool nor does he know how to properly stand. she's in his room and, well… she's in his room. ]
Did you want anything? A drink? Maybe a snack? We could go get a taco or a hotdog… [ he twists slightly and throws his thumb over his shoulder. ] There's also a really good sandwich shop a few blocks away and a really cool cat.
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speaking of support...
mj isn't surprised that her mother isn't at the airport to pick her up. it would've been naïve for her to get her hopes up and imagine her mom being there in the gaggle of other excited and anxious parents with a large sign welcoming her home and a cup of coffee from that bakery she likes. it's fine. really. her mother has work to deal with. it's fine. mj's a cactus. she's practically raised herself. she never needed that much attention. well, that's what her mother always tells her teachers, saying it in that glowing complimentary way that implies that mj's just a naturally mature and independent person. as if mj had a choice. not that she'll ever allow any of this to kill her vibe. on the outside, she's mysterious. elusive. cabalistic. enigmatic. with very long eyelashes. on the inside, she's putting the number of "days my mother took an interest in me" back down to zero.
when it appears that her mother isn't going to be picking her up, peter's aunt immediately steps up and offers to drive her home. thank god too. mr. henderson already had his car keys out and it looked like he was eager to share the story about that time he sliced his hand open with a bread knife while cutting an apple. peter doesn't have any luggage so the backseat littered with reusable grocery bags isn't too cramped when mj slides in. it isn't until they're on the van wyck expressway that aunt may pulls out from mj that her mother's on a business trip to dallas for the week. naturally, aunt may offers to let her stay with them until her mother arrives back home. mj tries to decline but aunt may's overwhelming and warm insistence bats away any excuses she puts forth and mj finally relents. she doesn't want to upset her. mj avoids peter's gaze in the rearview mirror and pretends like she's busy texting her mom.
it'll be fine, she tells herself. she'll just do the same thing that she does at home: read her book. and, if aunt may's enthusiasm about a game night is any indication, mj doubts she'd be alone with peter. he likes her and she likes him. that fact, now confirmed, should relieve and comfort her. even with all her snark and apathy, the guy she likes likes her back. but it's... more frightening now. there's that intimacy, that knowledge that she could get in way too deep and get hurt even more than if they hadn't become a thing. it's a topic they'll have to broach at some point, but maybe she wants to put it off. just until she's had a couple days to analyze and overanalyze it.
when they arrive at the parker residence, mj makes a beeline for what she assumes is the guest room until peter comes in behind her and tosses his jacket over the desk chair. in hindsight, she should've realized it was his room with all the nerd stuff laying around. oh well. by that point, she's already taken up residence of the bottom bunk, sprawled with her legs propped up and a book open. she's too comfortable to get up.
so comfortable in fact that she doesn't realize that it's just her and peter until he appears in his bedroom doorframe and mentions it. her mouth forms an "o" and she replies, dumbly, ) Oh.
( nailed it.
mj vaguely recalls hearing that sweaty guy (pappy?) stop by and talk about some volunteer thing. she was knee deep in tolstoy and tuned it out. well, whatever volunteer thing it was, she guesses it was important enough to get aunt may out of the apartment.
she peers over her book, watching peter unfold his arms and ask if she wants to go out. it takes her barely a second to know her answer. ) No thanks. I'm fine. I kinda just wanna — stay in for the night. ( after the stress and excitement of the past few days, they, but especially peter, need a moment to chillax. but then, she swiftly adds, mumbling, ) I mean, if that's okay with you.
( she's laying in peter's bed in his apartment after his aunt was so gracious to allow her to stay a couple days. the last thing mj wants is to be a bother and give the impression that she's not appreciative. if peter wants to go out, she'll go out and be her normal fucking delightful self. with bells on too. but truthfully, she doesn't want to and it's clear by the way her dark eyes quickly dart from her book to peter then back to her book. )
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[ he's had enough time outside to last at least a full year, maybe until he graduates college. swinging from the london bridge, leaping from drone to drone… it takes a lot out of a guy—even one who's as spry and flexible and very, very swingy as him. he's happy to stay inside. maybe staying inside would be nice.
he thinks mj has had enough adventure for a while, too. it's just a hunch—a peter tingle hunch.
wringing his hands together in front of him, he lifts up his shoulders and shrugs them down. he feels tense. it's not because mj is in his room. in fact, that's making him nervous—does she like his books? god, he doesn't have a lot of books… and does she like his photos? his cut out newspaper articles about the spider-man and the avengers? he really should've cleaned his room before he left for his trip, just in case this was to happen…
he can't quite identify what's making him nervous. it's a familiar feeling, one he had felt after mr toombs and the snap with thanos. he remembers that fight—the big, overbearing, genocidal titan who had flung him off of him like he was some bug… he doesn't let himself think of beck. doesn't let himself think of mr stark. tony never would've been as stupid.
he stands awkwardly in his doorframe before he takes a long step in. it's an awkward movement that suits him. peter never knows how to fit inside of his own skin. ]
I can order a pizza. [ he pipes up, standing a little taller. ] I know a really good pizza place that gives extra garlic bread. [ he smiles, feeling a little relaxed. then, he scrunches up his face, tilts his head to the side as he narrows his eyes thoughtfully. that's not entirely right, is it? ] For Spider-man, actually… Sometimes I ring them up and order pizza for myself—but really Spider-man buys me pizza… Because, you know… I'm not… meant to be Spider-man…
[ he finishes that with his arm behind his head, fingers scratching at his neck. yes, he's this awkward with ned. this is what happens when you're an f.o.s.
all he wants is mj to be comfortable. how does he make someone comfortable? god, he should've googled this. ]
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she closes her book and studies peter, eyes narrowing. thoughts race through her mind on how she can calm him. she doesn't have any experience in this sort of boyfriend/girlfriend thing, but she's an old hand at navigating tense interpersonal conflicts.
mj sits up, tucking her book under her arm, and moves to get up from the bed. despite worry tugging at her brows, she tries to keep her tone level and not accusatory. it's already embarrassing that this is the first time mj's been to his apartment and it's because her mother couldn't pick her up from the airport. causing peter to feel uncomfortable would just be the cherry on top. ) Are you okay? You seem like you're on edge. Do you need some time to yourself? I can leave. ( she points to the general direction of the living room. )
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[ he's fine—a ross geller sort of fine, but it's not because she's in his nerd sanctum. if she didn't know his truth, then he'd be edgy for the reason she presumes—he wouldn't want her in his room with her eagle eyes and her own mj tingle. she reads him better than he reads himself sometimes… and he wouldn't want her to glean anything from the evidence he's poorly hidden around his room.
but now that she knows, he's okay with it. it's fine that she's here. he wishes he had cleaned up a little and maybe made more space on his desk to make it appear like he does heavy duty thinking there… and maybe he wishes he hadn't left his lego out…
but it's fine that she's here, in his room.
he's just… being weird. he knows that. he lifts his hand to brush the back of his neck, brows furrowing once more. ]
I'm just… [ he drops his hand and sighs, looking over towards his closed window. ] Sometimes I get kind of weird after things like that. Like in London… with people. [ he looks at her, brows crinkled in thought. he doesn't make sense. he doubts she'll make sense of his nonsense. ]
And I lost my uncle's stuff— [ he shakes his head, smiling a little mirthlessly. ] It's fine. I'm just weird. You're fine in here, MJ. [ his smile grows genuine and shy, and he keeps his head bowed. ] I want you in here judging my things. It feels nice.
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so, the decision is made to drop it. she'll bite her tongue and skip offering him weak placations that he's probably already told himself a million times. look, they're both alive. he saved the world from a megalomaniac and he's finally confirmed his two biggest and worst kept secrets to her. stop trying to shove five pounds of shit into an one pound bag. they have time. if after their meal, a shower, and a good night's rest, he's still on an eleven, then she'll bring it to the floor for discussion. till then, she'll drop it. at least, he's the jittery nervous peter rather than the peter of eight months ago practically somnambulating through the motions.
still, she makes a mental note to casually mention to him later that, if he wants, he can talk to her about the "weird after things" stuff.
if he wants.
no pressure.
in the meantime, mj will try a different approach to put him at ease: distraction by attempting to inject some joviality in the room. hooking a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear, she lightly snorts and tilts her chin towards his lackluster spread of a dozen books haphazardly stacked on a small shelf above his desk. the hair falls back down from behind her ear and a smirk tugs at her mouth. ) Only thing I'm judging here is the sad state of your bookshelf. I already knew you had shit taste in books after you did that presentation on TekWar freshman year, but seriously? Twelve books? And half of 'em are graphic novels? ( she shakes her head, an exaggerated expression of glum dragging down her sharp features. ) For shame.
( she's so over this depressing, bummer of a scene dragging them down. they're alive. they're alone in his apartment. they're getting pizza with extra garlic bread. why shouldn't they have fun and enjoy themselves? it's been a hard week. )
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[ despite what the blip means to him, he merely smiles, feeling both incredulous and grateful for mj's chosen direction. this is why she's the decathlon leader. she knows how to lead her team, how to help those in their group calm down, be confident, and find their inner zen.
it's been a lot harder getting himself out of his own head these days. maybe it's because he's lost six years of being weird and anxious and overeager thanks to the blip. does everyone have this pent up energy? ]
Maybe… [ he shrugs and looks away from her in shyness. ] Maybe I could borrow one of your books.
[ then he's quick to look at her, eyes widening as he lifts his hand in preparation for her declining such a suggestion. ]
I promise I won't bend the corners. I take really good care of books. Just ask the librarian at school. All of them come back better than they were when I got them!
[ he's very responsible with his books, you see. he's actually very responsible with things that aren't his.
except for uncle ben's luggage. he refuses to think about that right now. uncle ben has things in this apartment that will be with him until they turn to dust in his hands. ]
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she already knows the answer to his question, but she decides to pretend that she's mulling it over. a second later, the corners of her mouth quirks into a faint, crooked smile. ) Sorry dude. I like you and all, but nobody borrows my books. ( a lesson drilled into her head several times after her books were returned stained, bent, ripped, or not at all. wanna blame the straw that broke the camel's back? that dickhead george smith used her hardback edition of the invisible man by ralph ellison to prop up the ramp so he could jump off it on his motorbike.
mj rolls out of his bed, swinging her legs onto the ground. in her stockinged feet, she walks over to the door, but stops in front of peter and looks down at him. ) Let's have pizza. My treat. ( before peter can object, mj lifts her hand up to silence him and repeats slowly with enough forceful emphasis that it's like verbal pokes to the chest, ) My. Treat. ( the steely look she levels at him will brook no arguments. peter would have an easier time convincing that giant purple guy not to wipe out half the universe. so just accept the free pizza, garlic bread, and brownie-cookie pizza. cool? cool. )
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most of the time.
so, he closes his mouth and sighs in defeat, allowing his shoulders to slump down. ]
Okay.
[ he's quick to lift his hand, index finger pointed upward almost threateningly. ] But you have to answer one question.
[ it's an important question, one that she'll need to take seriously. it's so serious and important that he purposefully pauses and licks his lips, bracing himself by rolling his shoulders back. ]
Would you let Spider-Man borrow a book?
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but then mj looks at peter, someone who'd take on an entire army on his own, and he's having an internal crisis on whether he wants to pick a fight with her over something dumb and trivial. it's just another reminder for her that all the avengers are human and maybe she ought to cut them some slack if they don't meet her lofty expectations. no one's perfect, especially when they have the world on their shoulders.
at his sudden sign of seriousness, her brows rise, that movement the only indication of the fear of a Serious Discussion. not that she doesn't want or wouldn't mind it, exactly. it's just that they were having such a good, fun rapport going on and now it's getting all serious and she's starving and jetlag and can't they have it out after a couple slices and an episode of the real housewives of new asgard?
then he asks his dumb question and all the air gets knocked out her. in response, she barks out a laugh, short and sharp. ) Absolutely not. ( unless the fate of the world and/or her favourite coffee shop was on the line. maybe.
now, time for her important question. mj pulls out her phone from her back pocket, winking and shooting a finger gun at peter. ) Pineapple or nada?
( careful. one wrong answer and you'll be eating pizza on your own, peter piper. )
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good on you, parker.
but she'd laughed, and that's all he's wanted since he conspired with may to bring mj back here. he doesn't know what it's like to have a difficult relationship with his parents, but he doesn't think he needs to have the experience to be able to empathise. there's a gaping hole where his own parents are. all he's sure of is that if aunt may has a big enough heart to let mj come in and see them at their most dysfunctional, then that's the best choice.
he smiles, feeling and looking sheepish, and bites his bottom lip as he gives her very serious question some very serious thought. ]
I think… [ he narrows his eyes and peers cup at the ceiling as if he can see numbers in the air. he wants to drag this out and make it as painful as possible for her. ] I think, for today, nada. No pineapple, miss. I think we need to appreciate the best of pizzas tonight.
[ he bites at his lips and smiles. ]
Are you going to call Spider-Man on me? I hear he's happy to web anyone up for you, Miss Jones.
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oh my god. she rolls her eyes, a slight smile tugging at her mouth, and playfully smacks his shoulder. ) Don't be a cornball. But correct answer. No pineapple on pizza.
( mj turns on her heel and starts to walk down the hallway towards the living room, head down as she scrolls through the pizza app to make and order their pizza, garlic bread, and brownie-cookie. and what a glorious return to true pizza. don't @ her.
it only takes the time between leaving peter's room to the old couch in the living room for mj to order the pizza, etc. she flops down on the couch, still on her cell phone, and kicks her stockinged feet up on the coffee table. the app says it'll be delivered in the next twenty minutes. so oh what will they do to waste that time, huh?
maybe mj should text betty. ask her for advice on how to act around boys. after all, she got a boyfriend, fell in love, and broke up with him in the span of only a couple weeks. betty is experienced while mj is not. )
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he smiles like an idiot. he knows he's an idiot. he knows that if aunt may came home right now, she'd stop mid-sentence, sidle up to him, and pinch his sides and his ear and whisper a little too loudly (but totally conspiratorially) about the girl on the couch who's making herself at home and how cute she is. may likes people being comfortable. he knows that may would enjoy seeing mj like this, not at all feeling strange and out of place in their apartment.
to peter, it's clear that she's comfortable. he's glad that she is. he doesn't want her to feel like she can't relax.
he scratches the back of his neck. ]
Did you want a drink? [ slapping his forehead loudly, he mutters, ] Ow. [ keeping his face scrunched up, he rubs his temple. ] I should've asked you. Oh, man. How am I going to redeem myself for being a cornball if I don't stop being a cornball?
[ he knows he's being a cornball. peter parker isn't used to being the hospitable host. ned walks around the apartment like he's a part of the furniture, and mj… she's quickly becoming a part of it.
he turns on his heel and walks an easy three steps into the kitchen and begins opening the cupboard to collect glasses. ]
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hydra zompocalypse: a hydra zombie documentary.
yeah. that'll do. mj turns the volume up a couple notches then tosses the remote on the little tray in the middle of the coffee table, settling into the worn couch. she can't really watch stuff like this at home, what with her little sister practically attached to mj's hip and interested in everything she does. her sister can't even watch that toy story 3 without getting a nightmare about the giant baby. so it's nice that she can relax and watch adult stuff like this without worrying about future and imminent night terrors. )
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It's just tap.
[ he doesn't know why he's even nervous.
standing by the edge of the couch, he lifts his glass to his lips and lifts his brows in recognition. he knows that documentary. it had frightened ned a little and had made peter so curious he had texted happy to ask tony to ask captain america how he felt about it. he never did get a response.
and he's a little… well, mj is here and mj is comfortable and he feels like he's got eight arms like the spider that had bitten him.
with his hands around his glass, he's looking at the tv when he says, ] Zombies, man. I never want to fight one.
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she takes a sip of water, eyes on the tv screen, and considers peter's words. ) I think you could take one. I mean, you'd have to change your tactics and not hit them with your head like you do with everything else. But, you have the strength, speed, and dexterity to avoid getting bitten.
( has she thought this out? yes. has she sorted the avengers in a list of "most likely to survive" to "will trip slapstick style into a group of zombies"? yes. where did peter land? slapstick style into a group of zombies. )
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he really wants to impress her. he should probably calm down a little on that front.
sitting on the arm of the couch, he looks at the television but doesn't see anything on the screen. he's too busy focusing on mj's words, their possible implications… he smiles, liking that she'd think he'd able to take on a zombie. ]
I don't hit everything with my head. [ he turns to face her, smile wide. ] I didn't hit the Vulture like that! Or Thanos!
[ no, instead, he'd gotten smacked in the head with thanos' fist. god, that guy was an asshole. it's best to think of the good stuff and not everything else that occurred on that planet. ]
I'd definitely hit them with a spiderweb. [ he thrusts his wrist out as if he has his webshooters. ] Thwip! Zombie down!
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You takin' heads off or just giving them jackets? That's the only way to kill a zombie, y'know. ( unless they're talking "the return of the living dead" kind of zombies where basically nothing can kill them. but, mj is just talking about the standard, normal zombie that can be killed with a cricket bat to the head.
the show goes to commercial and an ad for a show about the hunt for ancient snake people comes on. mj asks, voice low and thoughtful, ) Would you kill me if I turned into a zombie?
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[ if he was wearing his spider-man mask, his eyes would widen comically and he'd appear like he's a bug stuck in headlights. without his mask, he's just regular peter who's clearly taken aback and gaping like a fish.
he furrows his brows tightly and shakes his head. ]
No.
[ and he means it. it surprises him a little. ]
I'd be like Shaun and keep you alive. I could read to you and you could, like, almost eat me. [ he shrugs. ] I'd be okay with that. We could be zombie buddies.
[ zombie boyfriend and girlfriend. ]
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Cos I'd kill you. Like yeah, I'd totally hesitate and cry my eyes out about it, but like. ( she sucks some air through her teeth and turns back to the tv. ) Gotta do what you gotta do.
( and she means it. dead zombie boyfriend and girlfriend with a sweetass spiked mace. )