Chapter Text
It was a sad few weeks after that for our resident nerd, Peter Parker.
MJ refused to speak with him which he knew he deserved. She had taken to sitting in the library during lunch, and purposely switching lab groups during biology, which hurt more than any physical wound Peter had ever received.
He had been more of a dick to MJ than Flash ever had, which was saying something.
There were no more playful middle-finger-giving in the halls. No more adorable scowls. Peter noticed that MJ rarely made witty remarks at all during the day, and she ran decath meetings with a dry, bored attitude which Peter knew was caused by him.
It felt like being shot in the chest, being dropped off a building, and having his heart shoved into a paper shredder, piece by piece.
Multiplied by 3000.
Dramatic? Yes.
Accurate? Absolutely.
It was the worst pain he had ever felt.
And keep in mind, he fought criminals for a living.
Another thing; MJ had been hiding out in detention more often than usual, in order to directly avoid meeting Peter and Ned for study/movie nights. (which, yes, she had recently became accustomed to joining their nerd-group of two, and therefore turning it into a trio. Ned wasn’t very happy with that, but with Peter’s puppy-eyed pleading, he finally gave in)
Peter often glanced into the detention room as he passed by at the end of the day, and would see MJ at the back, her head buried in her sketchbook, intent on drawing “people in crisis” as she had so ominously put it before. If by chance she would glance up and notice him watching her, she’d catch his eye for a mere millisecond, before narrowing her gaze and quickly turning it back to her book. He wanted to cry every time she did that; knowing he had hurt her was literally the worst thing he had ever felt.
Ned had attempted to console Peter by telling him it was fine; they didn’t need her pessimistic attitude spoiling their lego fun-times anyway. But that was the very attitude that Peter craved every day. It was what he needed. Peter groaned at this, slumping farther into his chair, sending a very confused Ned into fits of, “wait, Peter, I’m sorry, was I not supposed to say that?”
May, on the other hand, was almost as upset as Peter. He knew how much she enjoyed the presence of his snarky, quick-witted friend/crush, so the fact that MJ was on a Peter-strike made Aunt May sad too. When he told her the news after the night of the wedding, she pulled him into a hug and told him that it would be alright; if she really did care about him like she had said, MJ wouldn’t give up on him that easily.
He desperately hoped May was right.
As for Tony? First off, the initial crush reveal was awkward on its own; a result of May chatting with Tony one day and unknowingly bringing up MJ. Soon after, Tony had come up to Peter and so flat-out asked who the fuck she was, that he grew flustered and blurted out “girl, friend, crush,” all at once. Tony wasn’t impressed. But, if May accepted her, and Peter liked her, then so did he.
But after the whole Peter-being-a-total-dick thing went down, he bluntly told Peter over the phone that young love was something fragile and almost never worked out, so it was a good thing that he got it over with as soon as possible. But he felt bad after because Peter started crying, so later that day he sent some cookies that Pepper had baked, along with a two-word apology note (“sorry, kid”). About as sentimental Tony would ever get.
And as if these passing days weren’t bad enough, two weeks after the wedding incident, an exchange student named Brad Davis had moved to NYC, therefore coming to Midtown Tech. Brad himself wasn’t so bad, but Peter noticed how incredibly smart he was, and that he had decided to ask to join the decathlon team. Michelle happily obliged, and Peter couldn’t be sure if it was because she had developed a crush on their exotic new classmate.
He desperately hoped not.
But the looks she gave Brad during practice made him think his prediction was, indeed, correct.
Fuck.
After an agonizing couple weeks of this MJ-less world, Peter realized that the trip to Paris was approaching incredibly fast.
Huh. He was so caught up in this whirlwind of emotions that he hadn’t even noticed.
Thank god Ned shot him a cringe-inducing “Excited for Paris, mon ami ?” Text along with a gif (consisting of a badly photoshopped man in front of the Eiffel Tower, twirling his mustache whilst wearing a lopsided beret) or else Peter would have completely forgotten to bring his form. Not like it really mattered anyway; the only real reason he wanted to go to Paris was to spend time with the girl he loved, but now she wouldn’t even meet his eye. At least he had Ned.
Oh and also Brad was going.
Stupid Brad.
Stupid, smart, apparently-handsome Brad that MJ most likely had a crush on.
Why did it have to be Brad ???
------------------------------
After an almost-annoyingly long hug from Aunt May and profuse reminders for Peter to text, call, and email on a daily basis, Peter finally made it into the school. It was bright and early at 5:30 a.m. the morning of the Paris trip. He reminded May that he would only be gone for a week, and that meant she’d also have the whole apartment to herself, yay!
Bad move on Peter’s part to tell her that. She started crying for the probably the 7th time that morning, so he had to hug her again to make her stop.
...for probably the 7th time that morning.
After getting out of the car (containing a still sad -and jealous- Aunt May), Peter made his way over to his classmates who were standing around outside. They seemingly had been waiting for him (unsurprisingly) so they could load the bus. His gaze immediately rested on MJ, leaned against the bus, chatting with…
Brad.
He barely had time to sulk because Flash’s annoying voice piped up overtop of the excited chatter.
“Heyy, look who finally made it! Penis Parker,” he shouted with a grin. “You’re late, which means you’re not coming. Mr. Harrington, can I give him detention?”
“Uh, actually, Flash, that’s not in the rulebook. At all,” Mr. Harrington’s dead-pan voice responded. He was wearing a beret. A possible attempt to become one with the Parisian culture they were about to experience? “And he’s not late. It’s just 5:30 now. Anyway, let’s head out before my wife asks where I’m going,” he continued, before stepping onto the bus, letting the team trail behind him. Flash pouted, whilst Peter gave a concerned look towards their teacher.
“Thank God you’re here, I thought Mr. Tony Stark needed you for a mission or something and I’d have to sit with Flash,” Ned piped up, coming over to Peter. His voice was much louder than a whisper.
“Ned, shut up,” he hissed. “And stop calling him Mr. Tony Stark, just call him Tony.”
“I don’t want to be disrespectful to Iron Man…” Ned protested, his volume lowering the slightest bit. Peter rolled his eyes as he shoved his small suitcase in the luggage compartment of the bus. “Seriously, though; how are things going with, y’know…” he lowered his voice, glancing around before continuing. “ The Avengers? ”
Peter shrugged as they boarded the bus, taking the seat at the very back row. “We had to postpone the ambush again. We somehow lost sight of the villians,” he mumbled half-heartedly.
“Huh, and with all the high-tech equipment, I didn’t think that was possible,” Ned mused, his nerdiness showing, as he turned his gaze out the window. He twisted back to face Peter. “And, uh, how are things going with you-know-who? ”
Peter simply jerked a thumb in the direction of the girl in question as his response; she was seated a few rows ahead of them, sketchbook in hand, a stack of books under her seat. She was seated beside- can you guess who?- none other than Brad.
Seriously; Peter had nothing against Brad personally , but like, c’mon.
Fuck Brad.
Brad was a dumb name anyway.
“Ah, I see. Sorry, dude. Thought this would’ve blown over by now,” Ned offered, sympathetically.
Peter snorted. “I wish,” he responded, his gaze never leaving MJ. He longed to stride over, profusely apologize for treating her like shit, and, yes, kiss her.
Oh God, how he wanted to kiss her. Ever since he realized he liked MJ more than just a friend way, he had wanted nothing more than to lace his fingers behind her head, tangling through her curly locks, while the other hand snaked down to the small of her back. He desperately wanted to feel those lips against his. He often wondered what it felt like.
That fantasy felt light-years away now.
He sighed, propping his head up on his head which rested on the arm rest. He gazed over at the girl that he was pretty sure he was in love with, and let out another sigh; this one could probably be described as “love-sick”.
“Peter, please stop, you sound depressed,” Ned complained as the bus started rumbling, pulling out of the school’s parking lot. The excited chatting from the other team members grew louder.
“I am depressed,” he mumbled, lifting his arm from its place on the arm rest and buried his face in his hands.
Ned let out an audible groan.
“If you’re gonna act like this the entire trip, I swear I will actually go hang out with Flash,” he stated, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat.
Peter sighed again.
—————————————
They soon made it to the airport and boarded the plane, shortly departing en-route to Paris, France. On the ride, Peter made note of the fact that;
-Ned made a Star Wars reference 8 times
-Mr. Harrington made 7 ominously concerning statements about his wife
-MJ giggled at Brad 6 times (since when did she giggle??)
-Betty came over to talk to Ned 5 times (what was that all about??)
-MJ read through 4 hardcover books when she wasn’t chatting with Brad
-Ned slept (and snored) 3 times (when he wasn’t referencing Star Wars or talking to Betty)
-Flash threw up twice
-Peter smiled once (when Flash threw up the first time cause it was really funny)
Jeez, this was starting to sound like that annoyingly repetitive Christmas song about partridges and pear trees.
When the excruciatingly painful flight was finally over, the team took a shuttle over to their hotel, an old, rickety building only about a block from the Eiffel Tower itself. They were told to unpack their things, and were free to roam the streets a bit before their 9:00 curfew (they did have finals the next day, after all).
Peter and Ned dragged their suitcases up to the 4th floor of the hotel (girls were on the 5th) and flopped their belongings onto the two beds.
Ned dropped back onto his designated bed with a sigh. “So! Would you like to explore the city?” He asked, lazily interlocking his fingers behind his head. “It could be cool,” he added with a shrug.
Peter nodded. “Yeah, that might be a good idea anyway… y’know, help keep my mind off MJ,” he said with a sigh.
“ Also,” Ned added dramatically. “It would be just a fun bro-activity? Guy in the chair and his other half?”
Peter smirked. “I think you mean better half,” he stated with a grin and Ned gasped.
“Excuse you, but without me , you’d probably be dead,” Ned shot back, standing up as he grabbed his backpack and started heading towards the door.
Peter smirked and followed. “Without me you wouldn’t have a job ,’ he mused, matter-of-factly.
As they made their way out the door, Ned shoved Peter’s side in a friendly-gesture before coming back with his response. “I’m working for free, so consider me a blessing to you, Peter.”
He rolled his eyes with a chuckle as he followed his best friend. He was already starting to feel better.
———————————
That was, until they made it back to their room a few hours later and he had no choice but to think about the girl he had hurt.
After Peter had sighed for probably the hundredth time while they watched TV that night in their jammies, chowing down on some microwave popcorn, Ned finally gave up.
“Peter, what is it this time?”
“You already know, Ned,” Peter responded icily, and Ned flinched at his tone. Peter groaned. “I’m sorry, it’s just, MJ… I… I hurt her so much. I let her down when I said she could count on me. And it’s so painful to know I caused her to act so dry and out of character lately.”
Ned rolled his eyes, exasperated. “Peter. There’s literally nothing stopping you from getting her back and apologizing. I’m not letting you live like this forever. And I’d rather not have you depressed for your entire life.”
Peter paused, mid-popcorn bite. Ned was right. He had been avoiding MJ for so long, thinking distance would fix this. He didn’t really stop to think that trying to get through to her again just might work. He suddenly sprang up.
“You’re right,” he said, bending over to rummage through his suitcase. “I’m going to apologize to MJ.”
“Right now ?” Ned asked, dumbfounded. “Peter, it’s the middle of the night, and you can’t go up to her room! Security’s going to get you in so much trouble!”
“Oh, I know,” Peter said, a determined look on his face as he pulled the item he was looking for out of his bag. “Not unless I go a different way.”
The Spider Suit hunt limp from his grasp.
Ned rolled over on the bed with an amused groan. “Good luck, Spider-Man,” he said with a chuckle, shaking his head and turning up the volume on the TV. Peter gave a nod, pulling the mask over his head. “Thanks,”
“I’m going to need it.”
—————————
Peter swung up from his balcony moments later, attaching himself easily to the outer wall of the building. He gave himself a quick inner pep-talk before pulling himself up by his fingertips and crawling up closer to the balconies above.
He let out a huff as he webbed onto the empty balcony above his head (he double-checked and triple checked that it was empty; no point in scaring more of his teammates than necessary) He quickly pulled himself up to get a better look around, glancing across the rows of short fence-like ridges. He was hoping for some way of telling which room was MJ’s.
Sure enough, almost immediately, he spotted a figure on a balcony three rows away. MJ , he thought, noticing her sketchbook in-hand, curly hair framing her face, and wearing the same blue-and-yellow decath sweater she had worn all those nights ago.
The night she wasn’t mad at him.
He took a deep breath, preparing himself for some form of surprised outburst when he would drop onto her balcony. It’s not every day that the nerd who broke your heart shows up as Spiderman.
He swung overtop of the balconies before letting go and falling right in front of MJ. He barely made a noise. He stood up straight again, preparing to explain everything. She merely glanced up at him, the same bored expression on her face as she looked back to her sketchbook.
“Nice onesie.”
Of course she already knew. He coughed awkwardly.
“Um, MJ, I-“
She cut him off, raising an eyebrow as she spoke over him.
“Peter, you’re not supposed to be here. This is the girls floor,” she said, a challenging look in her eyes. But she wasn’t playing with him. He could tell she was still upset.
“I know, I know, I’m sorry, but this is important. Can we please go somewhere…” he glanced through the sliding glass door into her room, curious as to where her roommate was. “...private?”
“Betty’s in the shower, you’re fine. But she’ll be out soon,” she commented, noticing his worrisome gaze towards her room. “It’s a school night, Peter. And we have finals tomorrow. Now isn’t the time to be swinging around Paris.”
“MJ, please,” he begged, a desperate edge seeping into his tone. She glanced up at him, as though she noticed the change. He swallowed thickly. “I need to talk to you,” he whispered.
She sighed, biting her lip. She finally stood up, setting her book down on the chair she had been sitting on. “You have 5 minutes, Peter,” she warned him, stepping closer. “5 fucking minutes.”
He nodded, gesturing for her to come further towards him. “Of course, yeah, totally. Uh, you know how to… hold onto me, correct?”
“Peter, it’s not rocket science,” she said with an annoyed eye roll, coming to his side and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He bent his knees a bit to let her wrap her legs around his waist.
Peter gulped at the sudden feeling of her body pressed up against his. He allowed his mind to clear just enough to wrap one arm around her waist and position his other outstretched, ready to web onto another building just ahead of them.
“You ready?” He asked, glancing over at her face. It displayed no emotion, but he could sense her heartbeat quickening and breathing growing increasingly more shallow.
“Just do it, Peter,” she mumbled, looking away, gripping him tighter.
“Okay,” he huffed, jumping to stand on the railing. MJ took a sharp inhale as they perched precariously on the edge.
“1,” he whispered, pulling her closer.
“2.” He shot the web out, attaching it onto the building.
“3!” They were tugged forward as the web caught hold of the building, pulling them from the railing. It felt the same as the first time he used his webs; freefalling as if you’ll never stop, before suddenly catching onto another structure and being yanked forwards again.
As they fell, MJ let out a shrill shriek, burying her face in Peter’s neck. He wanted to tell her they would be okay, that he would never let her fall. But the adrenaline coursing through his veins made it impossible to speak, only continue to race forward with determination. He webbed onto another building, zooming them past windows and storefronts.
He knew where they were headed.
And when MJ finally looked up to admire the view, she knew as well.
He let go of the web for a final time, landing both of them with a small thud on one of the outer metal landings of the Eiffel Tower.
MJ was a bit shaky as she let go of him to stand back on solid ground, so he kept his hold on her waist until he knew she could keep her balance. She turned to gaze out at the landscape below them, her breath catching in her throat as she grabbed hold of the railing.
“I’m p-pretty sure this is illegal,” she mumbled, her gaze locked on the ground far below them. Her knuckles were turning white from gripping the railing so hard.
“Are you okay?” Peter asked, genuinely concerned. He pulled off his mask, dropping it somewhere behind him.
She slowly turned to face him, and looked to her feet. “I don’t like heights,” she whispered, as if she was afraid to admit a weakness to him.
“I’m not going to let you fall,” he promised, moving closer to her. He gave a small half-smile. “What kind of superhero would I be to let an innocent citizen fall to her death?”
“Peter…” she warned, raising an eyebrow as she glanced up at him.
“I’m serious. You aren’t going to fall,” he said, widening his eyes for emphasis. He stepped forward cleaning his throat. “But, uh, I didn’t just bring you here for the view.”
MJ looked away. “I know.”
“MJ, I meant what I said before; I care about you so much. I’ve been such a dick, and I hate myself for hurting you,” he started, voice wavering with emotion. MJ refused to meet his gaze, playing with the strings of her sweater.
“I wish I could take back what I did. But with Tony and all the missions, I couldn’t miss the meet-up. I wish I had,” as he spoke, she finally moved her gaze up to his eyes. Her’s were watery. He continued, forcing himself to keep going. “And with everything going on with you and Brad, and you not talking to me, it’s been horrible. I miss you so much, MJ. I just wish I could fix all of this. I-“
He was suddenly cut off by MJ, who swiftly moved closer to him, placing her hands on his cheeks. “Just shut up so I can kiss you,” she exhaled exasperatedly, pulling him in to press her lips against his.
It was everything Peter could’ve dreamed of and more. He let out a surprised squeak, but he closed his eyes and let himself relax. As he moved his hands around her waist, deepening the kiss, it felt like heaven and hell had collided.
Like fire and ice at the same time.
It was like electricity; buzzing and energetic and coursing through his veins.
He felt more alive than he had in a long time.
Like the energy and euphoria she gave him was something he needed to survive.
They had to part eventually, gasping for air. She pressed her forehead against his gently.
“I’m sorry for not talking to you, Peter,” she whispered, looking away. “I just thought… I don’t know, not seeing you would make it easier?”
He shook his head, moving his palm up to her cheek. “Don’t apologize. I deserved that,” he said with a weak chuckle.
“No, Peter, you didn’t,” she said, biting her lip. “Because I really like you and I should’ve said it before. And I’m so selfish for getting mad… it’s not your fault that you’re Spider-Man,” she grinned.
“You knew,” he said, more of a statement than a question.
“I had my suspicions,” she said with a small nod, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Showing up dressed in that getup kinda proved it,” she added, sweeping her gaze up his body, making her point. Peter laughed, and she continued. “Wait… did you mention Brad earlier?”
He nodded. “I thought… I don’t know, I thought there was something going on between you and him.”
She laughed, wrapping her arms tighter around his shoulders, clasping her hands behind his neck like she had the night of the wedding. “I like you, you idiot,” she stated, shaking her head in disbelief.
“Good, because I like you too,” Peter said with a smile. “I was also wondering… I’m still a little worried that you might like Flash too…” he trailed off teasingly, and she narrowed her eyes.
“You’re such a fuckin’ loser,” she breathed out, pulling him in again. But as soon as their lips touched, Peter pulled away gently, eyebrow raised.
“Wait a minute… we’ve been through all of this and I’m still a loser?”
MJ giggled, something he was proud to have made her do. He smiled as she looked down, embarrassed. He moved his hand to her chin, pulling her gaze up to his eyes. They lingered there for a moment, before she leaned in to press her forehead against his once again.
“Yeah,” she murmured gently, her breath fanning across his neck. “But you’re my loser,” she finished in a whisper, sending shivers down Peter’s spine.
This time, Peter was the one to lean in for a kiss.