Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Do you want to go camping?"

Peter sat up, lifting the phone off his ear to check the number on the screen.

"Sorry?"

"Do. you. want. to. go. camping?" The voice on the other end spelled it out to him, as if he was a toddler having trouble understanding the alphabet.

"How did you get this number?"

"I have everyone's number," There was rustling on the other line. "You didn't answer my question."

Peter shook his head. "I have a couple questions about your question."

"I will answer your questions about my question, but not over the phone."

"Okay," Peter said slowly. "This is...Michelle, correct?"

"Didn't I just say I would only answer your questions off the phone?"

"You said you'd only answer my questions about your question off the phone, this is a general inquisition."

It was silent for a moment.

"Yes, this is Michelle."

Peter flopped back onto his bed. "Okay, so where should we meet to discuss these super-secret matters?"

"Your place?"

"Hang on," Peter covered the receiver of his phone with his hand. "AUNT MAY!"

"WHAT?" The response came from the kitchen, where a suspicious amount of smoke was accumulating through the crack of his open bedroom door.

"CAN A FRIEND COME OVER?" he shouted.

Footsteps approached and Aunt May peeked in. "Who, Ned? You know he's always welcome, Peter."

"Not Ned, he's in Florida for the summer, remember? This is someone else."

Aunt May raised an eyebrow and wiped her forehead with the back of her wrist, nearly smearing a clump of mashed potatoes off the spatula held in her hand. "Sure, as long as they aren't a serial killer."

Peter took his hand off the receiver. "Are you a serial killer?" he asked Michelle quickly.

"Hard to say just yet." she replied.

He covered the phone again and shrugged at Aunt May. She threw her hands up. "Good enough for me."

"Yeah sure, my place works." he swung his legs off the side of his bed as Aunt May waved a trail through the smoke back into the kitchen.

"Great, be there in fifteen."

"Wait, how do you know where I live?"

There was some more rustling and the sound of a door shutting on the other end.

"I know where everyone lives."

 Fifteen minutes and seven seconds later (not that he was counting), a knock sounded at the door. Peter hopped off the couch to answer it, slightly thankful that Aunt May had left to pick up some takeout and wasn't there to immediately embarrass him. He swung open the door and ignored the way his stomach did a little jazz routine at the sight of the girl in front of him. They hadn't seen each other since school had let out a couple weeks before and he had to admit that he'd missed her - in a totally normal friendship way that is. It was a friendship jazz routine.

"Hello to you too, weirdo."

He didn't realize he had been smiling at her in what was probably a very creepy way until she spoke.

Peter dropped the smile and cleared his throat. "Oh, um, hey. Come on in." He stepped aside to let her pass and shut the door.

Michelle's hair was pulled back loosely but her bangs flopped over her eyes as she gazed around the apartment. "Nice place."

"Thanks," he walked into the kitchen as she sat down on the sofa."You, uh, you want anything to drink? We've got water, milk, soda...a strange green concoction," he held up a tub of dark sludge and Michelle wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, no, didn't think so, ummm...juice box?"

"You still drink juice boxes?"

Peter hesitated. "Um, yeah."

It was quiet for a moment. And then - "Apple or grape?"

"Apple."

"Get me one."

He tossed her a box and got one for himself before plopping down next to her on the couch.

"So,"

"So," she replied.

Peter sighed. "Can I ask my questions now?"

Michelle raised an eyebrow and stuck the straw into her juice box."Patience, young grasshopper," He rolled his eyes and watched as she took a long and overdrawn sip. She settled back onto the cushions and wiggled around for a moment. "Can you hand me that pillow?"

"MJ!"

"Okay, okay!" she raised her hands in surrender and looked like she was holding in a laugh. "Go ahead."

"Why do you wan't to go camping?"

"I don't want to go camping, my parents do."

"Your parents are making you go camping with them?"

"No, they want me to go camping." Peter blinked at her. She sighed. "They're going on this weird couples retreat next weekend and want me to 'connect with the earth' and 'leave the house every once and awhile'." she made air quotes.

"And they want you to do that by going camping...alone?"

"With a friend," Michelle shrugged.

"So you want me to be your...camping companion?"

She made a face. "That's weird, don't call it that."

"Sorry."

"So are you in?

Peter shifted. "Where would we even be going?"

Michelle shrugged again. "I know a place."

Peter thought about it for a moment. He'd have to skip out on at least two days of patrolling - that is unless there were high levels of bear crime in the forest - and it'd be just him and MJ, who he had to admit, was a little weird. Not to mention they'd be in the dark, in a tent with no running water or electricity...

Michelle must have read the look on his face, because she shook her head and stood up. "You know what, never mind. I'll find someone else, thanks for the juice box." she turned to leave but Peter went after her.

"Wait, wait, hang on a second! I didn't say no."

"You didn't say yes either."

He rubbed his forehead. "How would we get there?"

"What?"

"Out of the city, I mean, how would we get out of the city?"

"I can drive."

"You can?"

She nodded. Peter threw up his hands. "Okay, yes, sounds...fun. I'll go."

Michelle's face lit up, causing another flip in Peter's stomach. Which he ignored. Again.

"I just need to ask my aunt."

As if on queue, the front door swung open with a loud creak. "Ask me what?" Aunt May was carrying two large plastic bags of Thai food on each arm. Peter rushed to help and she thanked him, blowing a piece of hair away from her eyes with a huff. "Those stairs are going to get someone killed one of these days," she set her hands on her hips and seemed to notice Michelle at that moment. "Oh, hello!"

"Oh, um," Peter set the bags on the counter. "Aunt May this is MJ-Michelle. She's uh, the friend."

"Hi, Ms. Parker," Michelle's stiffened, but she held out a hand. "You have a lovely home."

Aunt May shook it with a smile. "Why thank you Michelle, and please, call me May." she turned to unwrap the food and Peter made a face behind her back.

"You have a lovely home?" he mouthed.

Michelle's dignified response was to flip him the bird.

"Would you like to stay for dinner? We have plenty of food."

Michelle ignored Peter quietly cracking up and responded. "No thank you, I should really get going."

"Alright, if you're sure. Peter," she turned back around and the boy in question immediately ceased laughing and straightened up. "Be a gentleman and walk your friend out."

"Yes, ma'am."

Once out the door, Peter continued to tease her. "You have a lovely home?"

Michelle elbowed him sharply. "Shut up, loser."

"Why did you just turn into a robot?"

They stopped at the top of the stairs and she rolled her eyes. "I don't know, I'm weird with parents."

"You're fine with teachers, more than fine actually."

She shrugged. "That's different."

"Okay well, for future reference, my aunt doesn't bite."

"Good to know."

Peter tried to think of anything else to keep the conversation going, surprisingly having enjoyed himself in the short time they'd just spent together, but came up empty.

"So um, I'll see you Friday?"

He nodded. "I can come to your place first if that's easier?"

She looked panicked for a brief moment before schooling her features. "Nah it's fine, I'll come pick you up. I don't need you knowing where I live."

"So you can know where I live, but I can't know where you live?"

Michelle started down the stairs and clicked her tongue. "That's how it works, Pete."

"Alright," Peter shook his head but called after her. "Oh and, MJ?" she stopped and turned to look at him. "For what it's worth, I bet you have a lovely home."

"Peter!"

"Camping,"

"Yes."

"Alone,"

"Yup."

"With a girl?"

"Yes."

"Alone,"

"Aunt May!"

She raised her hands in surrender. "I'm just curious, that's all."

"I know, I know, but..." he stabbed a piece of tofu with his fork and waved it around. "It's not like that, okay? It's just MJ"

"And why is she 'just MJ'?" she asked.

"I don't know, I don't really know her...she's kind of weird I guess."

Aunt May pointed her fork at him. "How do you know she's weird if you don't really know her."

Peter made a face and she laughed. "To answer your question, yes you can go - as long as you stay within cell service range and give me Michelle's number."

He nodded. "Deal."

"And one other thing?"

"Shoot."

She pointed a finger at him. "Use protection."

"Aunt May! We're just friends!"

"I mean sunscreen, Peter!"

"We need to get sunscreen."

"Huh?"

Michelle looked at him over her shoulder as she shut the trunk to the old beat up car.

"Sunscreen, I need some."

"Oh, okay," she passed around to the drivers side and opened the door. "Yeah we can stop on the way, I need to get a tent anyways."

"You don't even have a tent?" he asked incredulously.

"Not yet I don't," she slipped into the drivers seat and he followed suit on the passenger side. "But we can find a store and get one, along with sunscreen for your pasty ass."

He buckled his seatbelt and waved at Aunt May through the window as they pulled away from the curb and onto the bustling city streets.

"So where exactly are we going?" he asked.

"Dunno, I figured we'd drive far enough out of the city until we reach some woods."

Peter's eyes snapped to her. "I thought you said you knew a place!"

"I lied." she responded, deadpan.

Peter raked a hand through his hair, tipping his head back against the old upholstery of the passenger seat. "This is going to be a long weekend."

"Okay, we get the tent, we get the sunscreen, we get out - no funny business."

"Shouldn't be a problem."

They stared up at the large red Target logo and soldiered inside, quickly making their way to the outdoor section without any hiccups - that is until they actually saw the outdoor section.

"Whoa."

"Yeah."

"There's uh, a lot of stuff you need to camp."

"Yup."

Michelle picked up smallest and least inexpensive tent and flipped it around to look at the back. "I think this will do," she chucked it in the cart, but Peter wasn't paying attention.

"Do we need flashlights?"

"We have our phones, dummy."

"Uh, yeah, and what if they die, dummy?"

Flashlights went into the cart.

"How about rain ponchos?"

"Is it supposed to rain?"

Peter shrugged. "It could."

Ponchos went into the cart.

"Sleeping bags?"

"Just get the cheapest ones."

"Okay," Peter picked up two rolls. "We've got princesses and...princesses."

"Dope, put em' in the cart."

Peter threw them in and surveyed their haul. "I feel like we're forgetting something..." his eyes lit up. "Food!"

Michelle scoffed. "Who do you think I am? There's two coolers filled to the brim with pb&j's in the car."

He sighed with relief. "I knew there was a reason I liked you." Peter realized what he'd said a moment later and his eyes widened. "I mean like you like, 'hey you're cool', not like like, but totally platonic, like, friend-wise, you know because we're friends and not like -"

Michelle watched him flail in amusement.

" - don't get me wrong! You're like super, uh, beautiful and smart, but like, you know." Peter tried to casually lean against the metal shelves, resulting in a few bike pumps jumping ship and narrowly missing his head.

"Okay, weirdo," Michelle pushed past him to take ahold of the cart. Peter chalked her pink cheeks up to the harsh florescent lighting.

"There's still something missing though..."

They locked eyes and spoke at the same exact moment.

"S'mores."

Unfortunately - or fortunately - they had to pass through the toy section to get to the food area on the other side of the store.

Peter grabbed a display scooter off the rack and set it on the ground, rolling the wheels across the linoleum floor. "Man, I used to tear the streets up on these things as a kid."

"Oh yeah?" Michelle observed. "Bet you couldn't do any tricks though."

Peter guffawed. "I so could."

"Prove it."

"I will prove it," Peter gestured for her to move out of the way and lined up the scooter in the middle of the empty aisle. "Watch and learn, MJ."

She snickered as he took off at top speed, knees bent low and back slightly hunched over the handlebars. Just as he was getting ready to lift his feet off and jump, disaster struck. An elderly woman appeared practically out of the woodwork, crossing in front of his path slower than a sloth and reeking of mothballs. Peter slammed on the brake with his heel, but as anyone who's been on a scooter knows, that so called 'brake' is more of an eject button. He pushed the handlebars out of the way and tried in vain to slow his momentum, but by then, it was too late. Peter vaulted through the air and crashed into the old woman, knocking the both of them to the ground with a cry of surprise from the latter. He hopped to his feet almost instantly and started a string of profuse apologies as he attempted to help her off the floor.

"I am so, so, sorry ma'am, are you hurt? Is there any way I can help you? Again, I am so sor -"

The woman stood rather shakily, before swatting him off and turning to walk the opposite direction. But not of course, without a dirty look and a muttered: "Millennials."

Peter sighed and picked up the still surprisingly intact scooter, making his way back down the aisle. When he returned to the cart, Michelle was hunched over the basket, laughing so hard there were tears in her eyes.

"I-I knew it was going to be good," she wheezed. "But I didn't think it would be that good."

Peter tried to glare, but the fact that he'd never heard anything outside a sarcastic scoff from her had caught him off guard. All he could manage to do was stare with what was probably an extremely dopey grin.

She calmed down after a minute or so and wiped at her eyes. "Oh man, I wish I would have gotten that on video," she placed her hands on Peter's shoulders. "Thank you, I needed that."

He rolled his eyes and shrugged her off. "Yeah, yeah, let's keep going before I immobilize any more senior citizens."

"I've always wanted to get in one of those things," Michelle gazed up at the large metal cage that held numerous rubber balls inside it. "My parents would never let me."

Peter stood a couple feet behind her, leaning against the cart. He gazed left and right at the empty aisles. "I don't see them here now."

Michelle scoffed. "Come on, Peter. Unlike some people," she shot him a pointed look. "I'm mature."

Peter raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, if you say so."

It was quiet for a moment. Michelle glanced at him over her shoulder. "Keep watch for me?"

"Of course," he grinned. She shrugged out of her army jacket and hooked a foot on one of the rungs, swinging her leg over the top. Peter watched in amusement as she pulled the other leg over and descended into the ball pit. "Careful, Spider-Girl."

"That's Spider-Woman to you, Parker." she called, carefully slipping down until she reached the floor. Thankfully with her height, she could easily stand without being consumed by the toys. She held up a marbled peach and white ball triumphantly. "Let's get this one." she tossed it to Peter and he caught it with ease before throwing it behind his back and into the cart.

"This isn't as fun as I thought it would be."

Peter pulled out his phone and moved closer. "Smile!" Michelle flipped two middle fingers and used them to pull her cheeks up into a grin as he snapped the picture. He secretly set it as his new screensaver and slipped his phone back in his pocket. "So how do you plan to get out?"

"Like this," There was a small opening towards the bottom of the metal basket where people could pull the balls out, and it was seemingly big enough for a human to squeeze through. Michelle did just that - well, tried to, that is. She got her legs through, but her torso was another story.

Peter held back a laugh and watched as she struggled. "Need any help there?"

"Nope, I-uh, got it, I just gotta-ow-wiggle...here -"she wormed down until her head cleared the rungs, in some strange form of limbo. "A-ha!" she brushed off her shirt and tucked her curls behind her ear.

Peter handed her her jacket with a shake of his head. "Can we go get s'mores now?"

"Yup," she rolled her neck with a wince. "Right after we get an ice pack."

"Should I start calling you Granny MJ now?"

"Don't even think about it."

"Are you sure this is safe?"

"Course',"

"There's like...no one out here, are these even campgrounds?"

Michelle shrugged. "All ground is campground if you have a tent."

Peter set the last cooler down next to all the other stuff they hefted into the clearing - most of which happened to be Michelle's books - and sighed. "If we get attacked by bears tonight, you're paying for the hospital bill."

"Fair enough," The late-afternoon sun shone through the trees, casting rays on light onto Michelle's skin as she dragged a backpack through the dirt.

Peter swallowed harshly, forcing himself to tear his eyes away and ignore that she was literally glowing. He rummaged through their shopping bags and found the sunscreen, rubbing it on the exposed skin of his arms and across the bridge of his nose. It wasn't until he'd capped the bottle and thrown it back in the bag that he noticed Michelle staring at him with an extreme 'wtf' expression.

"What?"

She shook her head. "You're such a nerd."

"I'm the nerd? I'm not the one that brought an entire library into the woods."

"Hey," she placed her hand on the bark of a tree. "I'm returning them home."

That got a laugh out of Peter, and Michelle fought a smile. She placed her hands on her hips and surveyed the clearing. "We should probably get some firewood before it gets dark."

"Yeah okay, just one second..." Peter sent his location to Aunt May and typed a quick text letting her know that they arrived safely, before pocketing his phone. "Alright, let's go."

Michelle shouldered her backpack and they set off into the trees.

"Yo, MJ, come look at this!"

Peter had run up ahead to scout for bears, ("You're an idiot.") but instead he'd found something much better: a small lake lie hidden within a brush of leaves, glittering under the sun. Frogs croaked in the shallow banks and a light breeze sent ripples across the surface of the surprisingly clear blue water and Peter wondered how long this place had stayed virtually untouched.

Michelle appeared next to him. "Whoa,"

"Wanna go for a swim?"

"We didn't bring bathing suits," she stated.

Peter waved a hand. "Bathing suits, schmathing suits." he toed off his shoes and approached the bank, beginning to lift up his shirt.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Michelle averted her eyes. "What are you doing?"

"Going - ugh - swimming?" he got caught briefly in the fabric of his t-shirt, but after some maneuvering he managed to strip it off and throw it in the dirt. His jeans followed suit as he waded into the water in only a pair of short blue and white plaid boxers.

Michelle's gaze was fixed on the treeline. "You're going to get all kinds of diseases in there, you know that right?"

"Come on, MJ, 'connect with nature'," his condescending tone made enough anger well up in her to forget the fact that he was pretty much naked a few feet away. Her eyes snapped to where Peter had tipped his head and torso to float on his back.

"The last thing I want to do right now is connect with leeches." she shrugged off her backup and sat down on the bank, unzipping it to pull out a book.

The next few minutes were silent, the only sounds the soft breeze rustling the trees and consistent hum of cicadas. Michelle wiped a bead of sweat off her forehead, heaving a sigh as she shrugged off her jacket.

"Getting toasty out there?"

She grit her teeth. "Nope, all good."

"Are you sure you don't want to come in?" Peter asked.

"No thanks." she threw him a sarcastic smile.

"At least put your feet in!"

She sighed. "Will you shut up if I do?"

He gave her a cheesy grin and nodded.

"Fine," she closed her book with a snap and set it in the grass, before yanking off her boots and standing up. She walked to the edge of the water and dipped a toe in the clear surface. "Happy?"

"Not quite."

Before Michelle could fully comprehend what was happening, Peter's arms were wrapped around her waist and hauling her over his shoulder.The water was a shock of cold as he pulled her deeper into the softly lapping waves, and despite her previous reluctance to get in, she couldn't help the laughter that had bubbled up in her chest.

"Put...me...down..."she wheezed through her laughter.

Peter let her torso slip down, but amidst her flailing she had somehow managed to twist in his arms so that her back was against his chest and his arms encircled her waist.

"This is for the scooter incident!" he continued to swim backwards until only their heads and chests were out of the water.

"That was your idea!"

"You conspired with that elderly woman, I know it!"

He watched with a dopey grin as she tipped her head back on his shoulder, damp curls tickling his cheek, and laughed. The former jazz routine in his stomach was now a full on circus - acrobats and elephants and clowns all trapezing around in there to create one big mess of feelings.

Peter let go of her before she could catch on to his current thought process. She turned around a splashed him with a barely withheld grin."I hate you sometimes, loser."

He held his hands out in a shrug gesture. "Just be glad I didn't dunk you."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah - wait, no. MJ, I'm sorry! I'm -" he was cut off by a hand on his head and a mouthful of lake water.

About an hour and a half later, Peter went off to look for firewood and Michelle changed into dry clothes back at the campsite. Now that the sun was setting low, a chilly breeze swept through the woods and raised goosebumps across her arms. She looked around for her jacket, and with a sigh realized she must have left it at the lake.

A few minutes later, Peter appeared out of the trees with a stack of firewood in his arms. He dropped it on the ground and gestured with a look of pride.

Michelle glanced away from the tent instructions long enough to give him a sarcastic smile and thumbs up.

Between the two of them, it took approximately one hour to pitch the tent - and about another twenty five to start the fire - and by the time they were done, the sun was long gone on the horizon. Peter had rolled a large log in front of the fire as a makeshift bench and set out their s'mores rations as well as a blanket to cover the uncomfortable bark.

Michelle came to sit next to him with two sharpened sticks in her hand. She handed him one and speared a marshmallow with her own.

"How did you get these so sharp?" he wondered.

She dug in the pocket of her shorts for a moment, and flipped open a small switchblade. Peter jumped and stared at her with wide eyes.

"What?" she asked."A girl's gotta have some self-defense."

He stared for a moment, but then shrugged and nodded and went back to preparing his s'mores.

Michelle shivered against the cool night air. Peter flicked his gaze to her. "Where's your jacket?"

"Left it at the lake."

"Oh," Peter stood up and grabbed his bag. "I have a sweatshirt you can wear."

"It's fine, Peter, the fire's warm enough -" he had already tossed her the blue sweatshirt, and she relented. She pulled it over her head, and even though she was a few inches taller than him, the fabric practically swallowed her whole.

Peter sat back down and tried in vain to keep his eyes on the fire and not let them wander to the girl seated next to him. Because all that would lead to was his mind wandering to how undeniably cute she looked snuggled up in his clothes. Which would only lead to disaster.

It was quiet for a few more minutes, until Michelle spoke. "Your aunt really let you come camping with a weirdo girl you barely know?"

"Hey," he gave her a stern look. "You're not a weirdo." he stuck a marshmallow over the flames. "But yeah, she's pretty cool."

"Seems so," she mused. She scraped the browned marshmallow off the stick and popped it in her mouth - despite it probably being molten lava hot - and tucked her hands into the pockets of Peter's sweatshirt. "Wish my parents were like that." she muttered.

Peter's eyebrows went up. "I thought you said they wanted you to come out here?"

"I lied."

He stared for a moment and she sighed. "They don't know I'm here."

"What?" he nearly dropped his marshmallow into the flames.

"I-I just needed..."she trailed off and shook her head almost violently. "Nevermind, it doesn't matter."

Peter set his stick down and angled himself to face Michelle. Her eyes were golden in the firelight, and they shone with something he couldn't identify.

"Hey...you can tell me. I'm good at keeping secrets." he said.

She stared at him for a moment, and then turned her gaze back to the fire. "I just needed to get away," Peter nodded, wholeheartedly understanding that feeling. "They...they fight,"she took a shaky inhale. "A lot."

A owl hooted somewhere in the distance, the only sound besides the crackling of the flames. "It's easier during the school year, you know? I'm gone most of the time. But in the summer..." she trailed off.

Without thinking about it, Peter grabbed her hand. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "It's not your fault."

"It's not yours either."

She met his eyes, and her face was probably the most open he'd ever seen it. He probably could have stayed forever in that moment, but Michelle cleared her throat roughly and let go of his hand. "Thanks, Peter."

They sat in comfortable silence. Peter tipped his head back to look at the sky. "There's so many stars out here."

"There's stars everywhere, dork. " her voice was thick, but still held it's sarcastic edge.

He gave her a look. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah," he turned his attention back to the sky, but her eyes stayed focused on him.

"Hey, Peter?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I try something?"

He looked back to her and furrowed his brow but shrugged. "Yeah, sure."

She took a deep breath and moved closer to him until her hip bumped his and their thighs were in line next to each other. Her hand slid up his arm, and over his shoulder to rest at his neck. Peter's eyes widened.

"What are you..."

She drew closer until their foreheads were nearly touching. Her breath smelled like cinnamon, and Peter hoped his was equally as pleasant. She closed the distance between them and brushed her lips gently against his.

Peter's brain short-circuited - no, completely imploded. He felt like every atom of his being was on fire. His heart rate was most definitely through the roof, and his hand was probably sweaty where it came to rest on Michelle's waist, but he couldn't think about anything but her lips. They were soft and warm and tasted like sugar. His other hand slid to cup her jaw and gently thumb a circle on the soft skin there. She sighed against his mouth and Peter wanted to bottle that sound and play it on loop for the rest of eternity.

When they finally pulled away, they stared at each other in shock. Peter ran a hand through his hair and blew out a shaky breath, turning to face the fire once more, and Michelle followed suit with a rough cough. They sat in awkward silence for what felt like hours, but was probably only a few seconds.

Michelle was the one to brake it.

"Was that your first..."

"Yup, yours?"

"Mmhm."

Peter glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "Do you wanna -"

"God, yes," Michelle's lips connected with his so violently he nearly fell backwards off the log, but he managed to steady himself enough to run a hand across her hip and up her back. She threaded her fingers in his hair and struggled to get as close as humanly possible, but given their current position, it proved quiet difficult and her knee jabbed him in the thigh. The first kiss was sweet; gentle and soft and a little uncertain. This one was passionate; hungry and fiery and extremely messy. Like for instance, Peter's teeth accidentally colliding hard with Michelle's top lip, sending them both recoiling.

"Ow - shit."

"Oh my god, I am so, so, sorry. Are you okay? Is it bleeding? Do we need to go to a hospital - what's so funny?"

Michelle dropped her head onto his shoulder, laughter shaking her entire body.

"It's just," she wiped at her eyes. "If you had told me twenty-four hours ago that I'd be in the dark, smack dab in the middle of nowhere, making out with Peter Parker, I would have slapped you."

A smile bloomed across his face, matching the warmth in his belly. He rubbed a hand across his forehead. "If Aunt May could see me now."

Michelle lifted her head and raised an eyebrow.

"I told her nothing was going to happen between the two of us."

"Who says anything 'happened'?"she scoffed and moved away from him on their makeshift bench.

Peter's heart stopped, and he stared at her with wide eyes. "W-what?"

She stared at the flames in silence, until her lips turned up at the corners and she shook her head. "You are so gullible!"

Peter let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and wiped his palms on his jeans with a shaky laugh. "I hate you."

Michelle laughed and bumped her hip with his. "Sure you do," he slipped an arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her temple. "I'm not kidding, I hate you so much." he mumbled against her skin.

"Hate you too, loser." she settled her head into the crook of his neck with a contented sigh.

Comfortable silence fell until - "Hey, Peter?"

"Yeah?"

"I totally payed that granny fifty bucks to walk in front of your scooter."

"What?!"

 Later that night, they lay side by side in matching princess sleeping bags, the only skin touching their interlaced fingers. The usual sounds of bustling city were nowhere to be found, and neither of the two could sleep a wink.

"Michelle?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you wanna -"

"God, yes."

An hour later and a half later, the New York City skyline rose up on the horizon, twinkling underneath the moonlight.

Peter looked at Michelle curled up in the passenger seat, head cushioned on his sweatshirt, and could only think of one thing.

I'm so goddamn happy I answered my phone.