Work Text:
It's Not Like We're In Love
“So, you two are on the same page now?” Ned queried eagerly the day after Peter and Michelle's meeting on the roof. Peter made sure to fill him in as soon as he got home, which may or may not have included a few excited squeals of joy. They were manly squeals, though.
“Yep,” he confirmed. “I know she likes me and she knows I like her and that I'm Spider-Man. I'm pretty sure there aren't any other secrets between us.”
Ned flashed a thumbs up and turned in his chair to focus on his chemistry assignment. They were in the library after school to do research for an essay on some chemist that neither of them had ever heard of. While Peter was completely enthralled by the prospect of learning about chemists of old, he couldn't get Michelle out of his head. It wasn't even anything she said, or the way she completely figured out he was Spider-Man on her own – well, with a little help from his big mouth.
His brain kept replaying the moment he gave her that pillow. From that moment until he left the roof, it was like someone switched out Michelle with another girl when he wasn't looking. It was like she was a completely different person. He wanted nothing more than to see her that way again.
“Hello? Peter?” Ned's hand was waving in front of his face.
“Wha-”
“Did you hear me?” Peter stared at him blankly. “I said does this mean you two are dating now?”
Peter frowned as if that was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. “Why would you even ask something like that?”
“So, you are dating.”
“No!” He winced when the librarian shushed him sharply. “No,” he repeated more softly. “We're just friends.”
“Who admitted that they like each other. You can't just go back to being friends when you find out you love one another.”
“We don't love each other. We like each other. There's a difference, Ned.” He rolled his eyes and went back to researching.
“But, the pillow.”
“What about it?”
“It said 'I love you'.”
“And?”
“Dude.”
“What?”
“Peter, MJ's totally going to think you're in love with her,” Ned uttered as if it was obvious.
It really should have been. And it was to everyone except Peter. As was usually the case. “No way,” he dismissed with a scoff. “She knows that was just a gift. The message didn't mean anything.”
“Peter, that pillow is like something my dad would get my mom for Valentine's Day. In fact, my dad did give my mom that exact pillow on Valentine's Day.”
He wished he could retort, but Ned told him all about it that night when he was forced to spend the night at Peter's. Peter's eyes grew into saucers. “No. No nonono. There's no way. No way MJ could mistake it for anything other than me just buying her a gift, Ned. No, she's too smart.”
“Dude, you said she kissed you right after, right?”
“Well, yeah, for the most part. I mean, we stared into each other's eyes a little and... shit.” He buried his head in his hands.
“See?” He had been smiling smugly, but that faded away the moment he read Peter's face. “Wait, you don't love her, right?”
“What? No. I like her. Like, like her like her. That's, like, two steps below love. I think.”
“Okay.” Ned turned around to type into his computer. That lasted all of five seconds before he asked, “Dude, what if MJ loves you?”
“Impossible.”
“How can you be so sure? We both agreed it was impossible for her to even like you.”
“I mean...” He trailed off and thought it over. There was no way she could infer anything from the pillow. It was obviously – to him, at least – a last minute, but thoughtful gesture in response to her incredibly well thought out and planned gestured. Obviously. MJ certainly wouldn't take the message on the pillow to heart. Right?
Someone sat down next to him, making him nearly jump out of the chair. “Sup, losers.”
“Sup, MJ,” Ned greeted as if they had been talking about her the entire time.
Oh god, it was her. He dared to steal a glance at her and his breath was immediately stolen by the way her soft curls fell over her eyes. That mop of curls on top of her head was so messy, yet so beautiful and just so Michelle. He was pretty sure she was wearing chapstick. He remembered tasting cherry on her lips from when they kissed the night before. It was only a peck, though, so he couldn't be sure. He needed to kiss her again. To make sure she was wearing the same chapstick, obviously.
“Hey, MJ,” Peter, thankfully, greeted like a normal person. “When did you get here?”
She didn't answer for a full minute. Instead, she was hunched over the table, fully engrossed in a book. “Just now,” she eventually answered absently.
“Cool. Cool.” He nervously tapped on the table. Ned cut him a look that said that this was his chance. Peter cut him one that said to get lost.
“Holy shit. I have to, uh, do my mom. Something for my mom!” Ned stammered as he hurriedly gathered his books and closed out his computer. “See you guys tomorrow.”
“Later, doofus.”
“See ya, Ned.”
So far, so good. He and Michelle were alone, kind of, so they could talk with a semblance of privacy. The only issue was that what he wanted to talk about was... well, he felt it was too soon to talk about dating only, like, twelve hours after their first kiss. And it was barely a kiss at that. Like, it was the kind of kiss a little kid gave their parents before going to bed.
“So, about yesterday,” MJ started.
Peter's heart nearly jumped through his chest. Was she thinking the same thing he was? “Yeah?”
“Don't read too far into what happened,” she stated plainly. “I was caught up in the moment.”
It almost sounded like she was saying that kissing him wasn't something she meant to do. He didn't exactly know how to feel. He initially felt hurt, but then when he was expecting to feel something else, he still felt hurt. He hid it well, though. “Oh. Oh, yeah. Of course.”
“I mean, I still... like you and shit. But, I'm not in love with you or anything.”
That coaxed a curious hum from him. That was exactly what he told Ned. “Well, yeah. I figured you wouldn't want to move that fast.”
“Yeah. So, then, that pillow was just a pillow? No underlying meaning or any of that bullshit?”
“Uh, yeah. No underlying meaning. I mean, I just wanted to get you something nice. By the time I noticed what it said, I had already paid for it, so...” He shrugged.
“Cool. So, we're on the same page.”
“Right. We're not in love with each other.” He nodded decisively. He was glad he listened to Ned and talked it out with MJ. It was good to know that she liked him, but wasn't in love with him or anything like that.
They fell into a comfortable silence, with MJ reading her book and Peter researching for his assignment. Every so often, he would glance over to see if she was still reading. She was.
There was something alluring about her when she read a good book. Like, she also had that focused frown that meant that she was really concentrating and trying to figure out the theme and meaning behind every single word she took in. She read so quickly, yet could comprehend so much of what she read. Pretty much all of it, in fact. It was one of the things he loved about her.
Not that he loved her or anything.
“So, whatcha reading?”
She didn't say anything, but lifted the book so he could see the cover. We Should All Be Feminists, by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie.
“Ah.” Of course it was a feminist book. “Is it good?”
“Obviously.”
“Right. You don't read shitty books.” He noticed her smirk and felt his heart flutter.
“I'm almost done. You want it?”
“Uh, sure. Why not?”
“Don't read it just because you think that's what I want.”
“No, never. I like reading. Mostly sci-fi and fantasy, but it's good to expand your horizons.” That and it would give him something to talk to her about other than schoolwork.
She squinted her eyes at him, then nodded. “Okay, then. I'll give it to you when I'm done.”
“Cool. Thanks.” He breathed out and tapped the table again. He really should have gotten back to work, but with her sitting next to him, he couldn't focus. He wanted to talk to her, to listen to her talk, to learn what she let slip about herself. “You wanna go out sometime?”
The words slipped out before he could stop himself. He watched her blink, as if her brain was struggling to comprehend what he had just asked her.
“What?”
“I... I asked if you wanted to go out. You know. Dinner or a movie. Or dinner and a movie. Or just... whatever.”
She looked up to stare at him, slightly incredulous. “I thought we were on the same page, dweeb.”
“We are. We totally are. But, I, like, really want to get to know you a lot better than I do. And, we agreed that we like each other.” He shrugged again. “This is what people who like each other do.”
She squinted her eyes at him again, looking like she didn't believe him. Eventually, she sighed. “Gross. Where do you want to go?”
“I don't know. I guess that Thai place May and I always go to.” He shrugged again. Honestly, anywhere was fine with him, as long as she was with him. Of course, he didn't voice that out loud.
“Fine. Pick me up at seven. Try not to be late.”
He grinned excitedly. “Awesome.” He breathed out to try and get a hold of himself. Peter suddenly had a date with MJ.
They agreed to meet that Friday, which meant that Peter only had two days to get ready for his very first date. Ever. Literally, he had never been on a date before this. He was pretty sure MJ hadn't either, which meant that it was either going to be a heartwarming experience in which two young people who weren't in love got closer as a budding couple, or it was going to be a complete disaster. And considering what it took to get them to this point, the latter was almost a guarantee.
“May, I'm already nervous. What if I mess up?”
“Peter, you need to relax. If you're too tense, then you really will mess up.” May was going through his closet to help him pick out an outfit that wouldn't make him look like a complete chode. They decided on a nice blazer he had stashed away in the very back with a pair of jeans. She let him pick out what shirt he wanted to wear.
“But, I can't. I really want Friday to go perfectly.” He frowned and sat down on his bed.
May sat down next to him and wrapped her arm around his shoulders. “Did I ever tell you about the first date your Uncle Ben took me on?”
“No.”
“We had dinner in the middle of Central Park. I still don't know how he managed to do it. Anyway, your uncle had the whole shebang. White wine on ice, home-cooked meal from your grandmother, the most beautiful bouquet of roses I had ever seen. He even managed to hire one of those violinists that play at Italian restaurants. Everything was perfect.”
He had a feeling what was she was about to say next. Something cataclysmic happened that ruined the date, like it raining or there was a shootout nearby. “What happened?”
“He forgot my name,” she stated simply. “He was so worried about setting everything up so that it was absolutely perfect, that he couldn't think to actually remember what my name was.” She laughed wistfully. “Kept calling me Mary. Or was it Marie? Oh, well. The point is that trying to go for broke on the first date usually ends with you with egg on your face. Keep it simple, sweetie. Girls love that.”
Keeping it simple was the key? It wasn't like Peter was planning on serenading MJ with some hokey love song in the middle of the restaurant. He just wanted everything to go smoothly. “I get it. MJ likes simple, I think.” He sighed heavily. “I just want it to go smoothly. With my luck, there's no telling what might happen.”
“Yeah. Unfortunately, you inherited that infamous Parker Luck. Something always goes wrong, no matter how hard we try. Which is why you need to keep it simple. The bigger you go, the harder you fall.”
That made sense. Peter just needed to try small. He was sure that MJ – no matter how much she would deny it – would enjoy just spending a nice evening with him. That sounded really nice; a lot better than a lot of the other stuff he had planned. “Thanks, May,” he said with a growing smile.
She smiled and kissed him on the temple. “That's what I'm here for, Peter.”
Thursday flew by like a blur, as did the school day Friday. Before he knew it, he was checking over himself to make sure he was presentable. The blazer was a good call. It was just formal enough to show that he was taking this seriously, but not so much that MJ would feel under-dressed no matter what she wore.
“You look so handsome,” May complimented from behind him.
“Thanks, May.” He picked up the flowers he bought after school. He didn't know what kind of flowers MJ liked, so he just went with the classic dozen roses. “Okay. I think I'm ready.”
May was assigned with chauffeur duties, since Peter couldn't drive and he was pretty sure MJ couldn't either. On the way there, she gave him some last minute advice. Compliment her hair, her outfit, stuff like that. Stuff that even Peter knew, but it was good to get a reminder in case he forgot.
He was so nervous, his palms were sweaty. He kept thinking about all the ways he could fuck this up. Every last one of them ended with MJ never speaking to him again. Granted, she rarely spoke to him on a good day, but still, just her presence was enough. He absolutely did not want to do anything to ruin that.
“Remember to breathe and relax, Peter,” May reminded him when they pulled up to MJ's building.
“Breathe and relax. Got it.” Flowers in hand, he got out of the car and headed inside.
His heart started thumping in his chest. I wonder what she's going to wear? Probably, like, jeans and a shirt. Maybe shoes, too. Yeah, MJ likes to wear shoes. Should I have gotten her a pair? No, wait. Keep it simple, Peter. Besides, I don't even know her shoe size.
He reached her door and took in a deep breath. “Okay. Here we go.” He knocked on the door.
If he was expecting to see one or both of her parents – neither of whom he had ever met before, strangely – he was mildly surprised to see neither, but rather MJ at the door. He was only mildly surprised because he was too busy struggling to remember how to breathe. She was wearing a short black dress with a white horizontal stripe across the middle and a pair of matching heels. And she was wearing makeup! Well, lip gloss and eye stuff, but still, that was makeup.
Time seemed to slow down as Peter was hit with the overwhelming urge to kiss this beautiful girl in front of him.
“Wow, you're actually on time. You look—” She was cut off by him leaning up and planting his lips on hers. Her lip gloss was cherry flavored, which was quickly becoming his favorite. His hands came to rest on her waist so he could hold her close.
He broke the kiss and immediately looked away. “I'm so sorry. That was dumb,” he muttered as he held up the flowers. “Those are for you.”
“Thanks,” she said flatly. He heard the door open then close.
“Damn it, Peter. Way to fuck up before it even starts.” If he couldn't control his impulses the first five seconds he laid eyes on her, there was no way tonight was going to go well. How could he keep it simple, like May said, if he couldn't even keep his lips to himself.
MJ didn't exit her apartment for several minutes, which gave plenty of time to mentally kick the crap out of himself for being so stupid.
“You look nice,” she complimented as if the impromptu make-out session hadn't happened.
“T-thanks. You look beautiful.”
“I'm aware. Let's go.”
The ride to the restaurant – they decided on Greek instead of Thai – was awkward. May thankfully kept quiet, but so did MJ. Maybe she was still shaken by the kiss? Could MJ even be shaken? She always seemed so unflappable about everything, so it was doubtful that something like a surprise kiss would catch her off-guard.
Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.
Peter made reservations ahead of time for 7:30. Outside of that one small hiccup, everything was going smoothly. He arrived on time twice in the same day, which had to be some kind of record.
“Thanks for agreeing to go out with me, MJ,” Peter beamed, blissfully unaware of how sad that sounded.
“Dork.” She rolled her eyes. “Not like I had anything better to do.”
“Oh, yeah? I figured you'd be buried in a stack of books. Like always. Loser.” He raised a challenging eyebrow.
She didn't even flinch. “I read them all already. And you're the only loser at this table. Sorry, not sorry.”
“And yet, you're on a date with me. What does that say about you?”
“That I'm the most benevolent girl in the world.”
“Yeah,” he agreed dreamily. He quickly cleared his throat. “Ah. Speaking of books, I finished Everyone Should Be A Feminist last night. Good stuff. I liked where she went into her teaching experience and how she had to dress in that ugly suit just so people would take her seriously. That really had to suck.”
Her eyebrows raised a touch, as if surprised he had finished the book that quickly. It wasn't long, but Spider-Man took up a lot of his free time.
“It really reminded me of Mrs. Thompson,” he continued, referring to the AP English teacher. “She dresses really in a really... girly way, and no one really takes her seriously. But, Mrs. Oscarson,” the 9th grade US History teacher, “wears pantsuits a lot and doesn't really wear makeup, and everyone respects her.” He bit his lip. He had to admit that he was one of the ones who only saw Mrs. Thompson as a pretty face. Reading that book really opened his eyes to the little ways society demeaned women.
“And gender roles?” MJ asked. “What did you make of her stance on that?”
“I never really thought about it until I read that part. Guys are raised to be, like, emotionally detached and fearless and stuff. Like, people legit think that if you show fear, you're a pussy, and if you're in touch with your emotions, you're gay.” He shook his head.
“Yep. It's like I always say – the patriarchy is bad for everyone. The sooner men realize that, the sooner we can start making some real progress.” She shrugged.
“Yeah, well, I don't see that happening. A lot of us have cushy seats up at the top of the hill. Letting go of all these stereotypes would mean letting all that go.” Those pre-assigned gender roles that boys had no choice but to fall in line with really screwed a lot of guys up. If they couldn't live up to those archaic expectations, they were seen as failures, no matter what. Some were obvious, like providing for their family, being a successful member of society, and the like. But, a lot of the other stuff – like the aforementioned fearlessness, being detached from emotions, being solution oriented, authoritative, and so on – really messed guys up. “No one has it harder than us straight white guys,” he concluded with a decisive nod, struggling to hide his smile.
“Excuse me while I go throw up.”
He laughed, covering his mouth with his fist to keep from disturbing the other patrons.
“But, seriously. Gender roles are just another fucked up social construct that we force on our kids so they'll act 'normal', when that 'normal' had been defined by assholes that've been dead for hundreds of years. The sooner you break them, the better.”
“So, does that mean you'll be paying for dinner?” he inquired with a cheeky grin.
“My half.” She leaned forward against the table and smiled. “May didn't give you any money?”
“No, of course not. I have a job.” He totally didn't, and she gave him forty dollars.
She squinted her eyes. “Where?”
“Uh. The store.”
“What store?”
“It's called The Store. You've probably never heard of it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Hipster dweeb.”
The waiter stopped at their table to take their orders. For an appetizer, they ordered deep-fried zucchini and peppers. For the entree, Peter ordered kokoretsi. He didn't know what that was, but he wanted to impress MJ with how cultured he was. He really hoped that didn't backfire. MJ ordered Fasolakia – when were fresh green beans stewed with potatoes, zucchini, and tomato sauce – and a lentil soup with vinegar and olive oil.
“I'm watching my figure,” she explained. “I'm also a vegetarian.”
He wanted to say something smooth, like how she didn't need to watch her figure, but relented out of fear of messing that up somehow. “I've never had Greek food before,” he admitted. “This ought to be interesting.”
Her lips curled into a smirk. “You have no idea what you ordered, do you?”
Watching her smirk immediately brought him back to when he kissed her at her door. He remembered clearly how soft and wet her lips were, and how good they felt being pressed against his. “Uh, what? Uh, no. No, I don't. Why? Do you?”
“Lamb intestines wrapped around lamb heart and lungs, then spit-roasted.” When he turned a ghastly pale, she laughed. “Sounds delicious, actually.”
“Y-yeah. So good.” Oh, yeah. Peter's attempt to impress MJ was going to die in a burning heap. May's words of keep it simple rang in his head. He should have just ordered a hamburger.
Minutes passed with them making small talk about schoolwork and other stuff. They were talking about geometry when MJ let it slip that her mother was pretty good at it. That reminded him that he had been hoping to meet her parents. “You know, I was hoping to run into your parents when I got to your place,” he noted casually. It was clear that her family was a touchy subject for her, since she literally never talked about them outside of a casual reference. While he didn't want to pry, he knew that they were going to have to talk about them eventually.
She shrugged. “Mom's at work. She told me to tell you hello.”
“Oh, cool. Tell her I said hi.” He noticed she didn't mention anything about her father. That could have been for a myriad of reasons, but he didn't want to pry. He could have been dead for all Peter knew, and he wasn't about to open that old wound.
MJ grew quiet, which was what he did not want to happen. Damn it, Peter. He reached over and nudged her hand with his. To his relief, she smiled softly and nudged him back. Okay. No more stupid decisions, Peter. Think before you say or ask anything else, got it?
Their main courses arrived shortly after their appetizers; and with it arrived Peter's fate. He literally had never eaten a heart before, let alone a set of lungs. It looked kind of like a burnt egg roll, but it smelled awful. He didn't think he was going to be able to take a single bite, much less eat the entire thing.
“Mmm, yummy,” MJ remarked snidely. “Looks awfully tasty, right, dork?”
“Yeah, totally. May made something like this just the other day, and I ate the entire thing.”
“You're full of shit. I mean, literally, you're about to be full of shit.”
“Shut up.”
“Because the intestines are where the shit goes through, you know.” She could barely contain her laughter when Peter started fuming.
He flipped her off and picked it up. “Watch this.” He bit into it. It was like a taste explosion had gone off in his mouth. He could detect several spices and the salt used to season the meats before they were grilled. It... wasn't as bad as he feared, but not nearly as good as he hoped. Now, he was stuck with a mouthful of bad but not terrible food in his mouth, and MJ wouldn't stop smirking at him. “Delicious,” he said with his mouth full.
“You're disgusting.”
He swallowed that bite and drank down a hearty sip of his drink to wash the taste out. “Not bad. Want some?”
“I'm good, thanks.”
He plucked a green bean from off her plate. “Pretty good.” He stole another one before she could smack his hand away.
“Quit putting your gross fingers in my food.”
“But, your food is so much better than mine.” He stole another bean.
MJ narrowed her eyes menacingly. “Don't think I don't know what you're trying to do. Dick.”
“What am I trying to do?” he inquired with feigned innocence.
“Trying to goad me into taking some of your food.” She rolled her eyes and scoffed. “I'm not that petty, Peter.”
“You steal my food all the time at school,” he pointed out.
“That's different. That's lunch and this is a date. You're not supposed to steal your date's food, doofus.”
“How do you know? Have you ever been on a date?”
“Nope. It's common sense. Everyone knows that. Just like everyone knows that you have the cutest smile. Like, ever.”
It came at him so quickly that he missed it entirely. It was a full ten seconds before he realized what she said. After that, he couldn't stop the smile from forming on his lips.
“Ugh.”
“Wow, MJ. I didn't know you thought that.” He reached over and placed his hand over hers. When she didn't stop him, he dared to curls his fingers. “I think yours is pretty cute, too.”
She rolled her eyes, which he was pretty close to determining was her way of blushing. “Whatever. It's alright.”
“No, I mean it. It's beautiful.”
She was rendered speechless. Which in and of itself was amazing. Even more amazing was how it looked like she was struggling to keep the smile from forming on her lips. “Dork,” she eventually muttered. It didn't sound anything close to an insult.
May picked them up twenty minutes later. As promised, MJ paid her half of the bill, and Peter paid his. He was grateful, since the combined bill would have been too much for the forty bucks May gave him to cover.
“So, how was dinner?” May eagerly inquired.
“Eh, it was alright,” MJ shrugged.
“Eh, it was okay,” Peter stated at about the same time.
May might have believed them if she hadn't spotted them holding hands in the back seat. She smiled to herself.
“I had a fun time, Peter. Thanks,” MJ said when Peter walked her up to her apartment.
“Me, too, MJ. So, um, I guess I'll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah.” She paused for a moment, then leaned down to kiss him. The first time she kissed him, it was just a brief peck on the lips. This time was just as brief, but much deeper. It was over before it began, but Peter was frozen in place all the same. “Goodnight,” she said before vanishing behind her door.
“Goodnight.”
His heart was racing all the way until he climbed into May's car. He breathed in deeply to calm himself down.
“Everything okay, sweetie?” she asked.
He licked his lips. He could still taste MJ cherry lipgloss. “Yep. Never better.”