Work Text:
- Even though it’s the brightest night of the year in Prague, Peter can’t help but feel as if he’s stumbling around in the dark
- After his quick departure from his hotel room, he did manage to contact Happy, who assured him that Mr. Fury would be alerted about Beck’s deception
- It’s something, at least, but Peter knows the fight is far from over
- Beck isn’t going to let it rest that easily, and figuring out the next move while keeping him in the dark will be a bit difficult now that he has access to E.D.I.T.H.
- To top it off, Happy will be arriving the next day to get Peter out of the field, where Beck is certain to be searching for him
- Which means that Peter is going to go far away from Prague, far away from the trip he has been looking forward to for ages
- And far away from black dahlia necklaces and the girl who has seen right through him for months
- The girl who has been watching Spider-Man so intently that she fooled him into thinking that maybe, just maybe, she might have been looking for Peter Parker
- Peter shoves the thoughts out of his mind as he swings over the rooftops, paying no mind to the lights that flicker in the streets below
- He doesn’t want to think about how they smolder just like the destruction of the carnival, burning as a reminder of his failure
- It is only as the glowing lights of the hotel come into view that Peter realizes he can’t go back into his room
- Mysterio may have bugged it, so returning there would be putting himself in harm’s way
- He really only has to make it one night until Happy comes to get him tomorrow, so Peter decides to room with Ned
- After all, he memorized the number of Ned’s room off of the list of room numbers that came out on the bus
- So, as Peter slides through an open window down the hall and climbs the ceiling to keep out of view of any cameras, he knows which door he is looking for
- There’s only one problem
- When the door does come into view, Peter already recognizes it– and it’s not because it’s Ned’s
- He knows it because this is the door that he saw MJ leave through earlier, and it’s the same door he knocked on after to suggest they go for a walk
- Peter’s heart skips a beat at the thought of showing up at her door at two in the morning, but he’s out of options
- So, after steeling himself, Peter knocks on MJ’s door for the second time that night
- The door opens unexpectedly quickly, and Peter doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it isn’t this
- Because, when MJ answers the door, she seems to be wide awake
- The slightly taller girl is wearing a large, comfortable-looking grey hoodie with a faded picture of Rosie the Riveter on it, as well as a pair of black leggings and black socks
- Her hair is loose, completely free of the style she had worn earlier that evening, and her dark eyes are alert as they find his
- Peter is rather grateful for his mask at that moment because he can feel his eyes widening and his cheeks heating up
- It takes a moment for him to finally find words, and when he does, Peter just barely keeps himself from becoming a stammering mess
- “I, uh– Sorry? Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up or anything–”
- Before he can continue, MJ cuts his off, blinking a couple times before she does so
- “Um, it’s cool. You didn’t. Wake me up, I mean.”
- Peter lets out a quick breath in relief as she glances away from him, fiddling with the cuff of her sleeve
- “Right, okay. Good.”
- MJ glances up at him, raising a brow in question, and this causes him to continue
- “Uh, I thought this was the room Ned was assigned.”
- A gleam of understanding enters MJ’s eyes, and she nods slowly as she replies, “Oh, right. Yeah, he traded me for a room closer to Betty. I think they’re right next to each other.”
- Peter nods quickly, several times in succession, as he rambles, “Yeah, that makes sense. Do you, uh, remember your old room number?”
- MJ’s fingers tuck a few stray strands of hair behind her ear as she seems to ponder the question for a moment, eyes wandering upwards
- Peter is almost glad not to be the object of her piercing gaze for a moment since his face currently feels like it’s hot enough to melt into the mask
- “Well,” she says slowly, “I remember the last room I was in. But that was after I traded with Charles for the Wi-Fi and with Abe so he could have the corner room, so…”
- “Oh. Okay.”
- For a moment, there is an awkward silence as Peter’s mind races, and he tries to think about any possible alternative
- He could pretend to be sick and spend the night in Mr. Harrington’s room, but then he’d probably have to fake throwing up or something, and he doesn’t think he’s a good enough actor for that
- And spending the night on the roof doesn’t exactly seem brilliant when Beck has access to a host of flying, killer drones
- “You can’t go back to your room.”
- Peter’s eyes flicker to MJ’s as she says it, finding that her gaze is locked on his again
- “Um, yeah. I don’t think I should, with Mysterio’s tech and everything,” Peter admits, a hand rising to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly
- “But, I mean, I’ll figure something out. There’s always Mr. Harrington-”
- “Or you could stay here.”
- Peter’s eyes widen as he looks to her, surprise filling them
- He hadn’t expected her to say anything of the sort, and now he is certain that his face is burning holes in the Stealth Suit
- She, for the record, looks about as comfortable with the idea as he is
- MJ is religiously avoiding his gaze now, almost like she did earlier in the evening when they both suddenly became aware of the fact that he had stripped down in front of her
- But Peter knows he’s pretty much out of options, so he manages to mutter, “I-I, uh, I mean… Sure. Thanks.”
- MJ lets out a wordless nod and quickly turns around, entering the room and leaving the door open for him
- Peter glances over his shoulder, making sure that he’s managed to avoid the cameras in the hall before he disappears into MJ’s room
- The thud of the door behind them suddenly snaps Peter to reality
- All at once, Peter is very aware of the situation in which he has found himself
- Because, even though the plan went down the drain days ago, this possibility?
- It is not one that Peter would have even dreamed of considering
- And now, Peter is standing in the middle of MJ’s hotel room in nothing but a skin-tight Stealth Suit in the early hours of the morning with no idea what he’s supposed to say
- “Um, I can crash in the bathtub,” Peter offers quickly, shutting down the train of thought
- “But then I’ll have to reschedule my three AM bath,” MJ points out, voice deadpan as she stares at him
- There’s a little glimmer in her eyes, however, that tells Peter that she may not be as serious as she seems
- “Messing with me again?” he prompts, unable to keep a small grin from forming on the edge of his lips
- MJ tips her head slightly to the side, and a hint of a smirk creeps onto her lips
- “Yeah. You’re catching on.”
- Before Peter can let the warmth that’s fizzling in his chest spread too far, she’s turned away
- “But yeah, you probably shouldn’t sleep in the bathtub,” MJ reasons, her back turned to him as she walks to the chest of drawers and begins to rifle through them
- “I mean, you need sleep with everything that’s coming.”
- It’s the first time anyone’s vocalized it, and it’s kind of like getting a kick to the chest that he somehow really needed
- Even on the phone, Happy didn’t really talk about anything past getting Peter out of the field, and the discussion about Fury didn’t include any future involvement in the affair
- But deep down, Peter knows that he’s been a part of this from the beginning
- And whether he likes it or not, he’s going to have to see it through to the end
- It’s his fault Beck has the glasses, his fault that these Elementals are about to become more dangerous than ever
- So it’s his responsibility to remedy it
- Peter lets out a breath in a controlled exhale, nodding slowly as he says, “Right. Sleep is always good... I can take the chair, in the corner.”
- Peter gestures to the upholstered armchair by the window, and MJ shoots him an unimpressed look in response
- “You’re going to be sore if you sleep sitting up,” she counters firmly
- “You can take the bed, and I’ll take the chair.”
- Peter’s eyes widen as he stares into the unflinching gaze of his classmate, who appears so resolute that Peter is almost afraid to try to change her mind
- Still, the idea of taking MJ’s bed is ridiculous enough that he still has to try
- “I’m not making you sleep on the floor, MJ,” he presses, attempting to make his voice sound as insistent as hers
- MJ raises an eyebrow and Peter knows he’s not going to win this argument-- she is much, much smarter than him, much better at arguing, and has the added energy that comes from not swinging across Prague all night
- “You’re not making me,” she counters, crossing her arms, “I’m offering. And you are going to sleep in a bed because even if you don’t I’m taking the chair. So it’s the bed or the floor.”
- Peter is quiet for a minute, brow furrowed as he looks at her
- She’s infuriating, but as they stand opposite one another, squabbling over something as stupid as sleeping arrangements, the sight of her sharp eyes and each word from her quick tongue is enough to make his heart race
- “I just don’t want to take your bed from you, since you’re letting me sleep here and everything.”
- Peter’s words are honest, just like she is: they’re tired, and they are earnest, and they reveal the truth
- Which is that Peter is too tired to fight this fight right now, but he’s not still going to try because he knows he owes it to her
- For a moment, MJ’s eyes widen, but she quickly recovers
- And then it’s Peter’s turn to be surprised, because she tips her chin up and says:
- “I mean, we could share it.”
- A lump immediately rises in Peter’s throat, and his eyes feel like they must be bugging out as he looks at her, blinking rapidly
- His voice, when it leaves his throat, is higher than usual as he stammers, “What?”
- “I mean, it makes sense,” she says quickly, turning around
- As MJ moves to the drawers beneath her TV and begins to open them, Peter thinks her words might be coming slightly faster than usual
- Still, her tone is nonchalant as she reasons, “You need to sleep for tomorrow, and you aren’t going to sleep well if you’re freaking out about me being in the chair. So it’s kind of a convenient solution.”
- When she turns around, MJ has a pair of flannel pajama pants in her hand, as well as a t-shirt that says “Feminist AF” on it
- “But if you’re not cool with it, I guess we could-”
- “Wait. Wait, uh, no. I-I’m cool.”
- MJ arches an eyebrow as she looks at Peter, and he is grateful for the moment to collect himself
- Because, due to the fact that his heart is currently trying to chisel its way out of his sternum, he barely remembers even choosing to speak
- Maybe she hasn’t been watching him for the right reasons, and maybe she doesn’t like him the way he likes her, but Peter knows that he’s still head over heels for Michelle Jones, even if he doesn’t have the right to be
- He’ll get over it, because he knows it would be disrespectful to keep pursuing someone who isn’t interested
- But he can start getting over it tomorrow
- Because tonight, with a battle looming over him and exhausting dogging his every step?
- Tonight, Peter can’t deny himself one last night imagining he has half a chance with the most incredible person he’s ever seen
- “Then you should go change,” MJ replies slowly, dragging Peter out of his thoughts and extending the bundle of clothing in her hands to him
- “Huh?” Peter stammers, a few seconds delayed in realizing what she’s doing
- “You’re- you’re gonna want pajamas.”
- “Oh. Right... Thanks.”
- “Uh, don’t sweat it,” MJ murmurs, the corner of her lips quirking upward slightly
- Still, she appears slightly stiff, and Peter can’t help wondering... Is she nervous?
- Rather than trying to puzzle that out, Peter takes the clothes and turns to enter the bathroom, shutting the door a bit too quickly behind himself
- It takes a few moments to catch his breath, and then a few more when he realizes, as he’s changing, that the clothing smells like lavender soap
- The fabric is soft against his skin, and as he steps out of the bathroom Peter realizes he finds the slightly-too-long pants comforting
- He’s so caught up in having his enhanced senses overwhelmed with MJ that it takes Peter a moment to realize she’s turned off the lights
- Prague is still bright outside the window, and the lights from the city combined with the light of the moon keep the room illuminated enough that Peter can see pretty much everything with his sharp vision
- This is how he spots MJ, who is standing by the bed
- She has turned down the sheets, something strangely particular that fits perfectly among her other quirks, but she is currently staring out the window, at the city below
- A few of the lights have flickered out due to the time, but the city still sizzles and sparks below her, and the lights cast a warm glow that bathes her face
- The soft light illuminating the curves of her features causes Peter to catch his breath, a sound that alerts her to his presence
- She glances his way, and immediately warmth floods Peter’s face, making him grateful for the low light
- MJ quickly tucks a curl away from her face, breathing, “Sorry. It just looks like...”
- She doesn’t finish the sentence as her eyes come to rest on his face, and Peter watches as she swallows uncomfortably
- For a moment, uncertainty flickers in her eyes, as well as an apologetic gleam, and Peter realizes she’s worried she said the wrong thing
- “No, you’re right,” he murmurs, glancing at the window and back to her
- “It does. Uh, but I’m not gonna let that happen anywhere else.”
- For a moment, MJ stares at him across the room, and her dark eyes gleam with the reflected shine of the streets below
- Peter catches his breath and wonders if he is imagining the gleam of something else that he can see, the little spark that seems to be lit as she looks at him
- “I know.”
- Her voice is filled with quiet confidence, and for a moment neither moves
- And then MJ turns to the bed, letting out a breath
- “Uh, I normally would close the curtains, but...”
- “No, it’s okay,” Peter says quickly
- He understands: it’s too easy to imagine, in the dark, that they are cornered in the room
- And it’s also just a bit too easy to imagine other things, things that Peter knows will have everything to do with the girl he’s crazy about on the other side of the bed
- MJ hesitates at the side of the bed, then swallows
- “I, um, normally sleep on the left side of the bed...”
- “Right, okay,” Peter agrees, slowly coming around to the right side
- He hesitates for a moment, heart hammering, and then before he can tell himself this is a bad idea, he pulls back the covers and slides underneath them, then turns his back so that he is facing away from her
- Across the bed, he can hear the rustling of blankets, and then after a moment the bed creaks slightly as she slips in
- Peter catches his breath, and he seems unable to let it go as they sit in silence for a moment
- He tries to shut his mind off, but it’s extremely difficult to think about anything but the fact that, an arm’s length away, MJ is bundled up in the blankets
- His enhanced senses make it even more difficult to focus on sleep, because every inhale and exhale from across the bed is loud and booming in the relative quiet of the room, and he can hear the sound of her curls brushing the pillow as she adjusts her head
- A million hypotheticals race through Peter’s head
- What if he sleeptalks? What if he moves in his sleep, and like, punches her in the face or something? What if he does something super embarrassing, like drooling or stealing all of the blankets?
- What if he is thinking so loudly that she can hear every single one of these hypotheticals?
- After a few minutes that feel like hours, however, Peter relaxes as MJ’s breathing deepens and evens out into a rhythmic cadence, and he finds that knowing she’s asleep is starting to make him sleepy, too
- Because the blankets are thick, the mattress topper is soft, the room is cool, and the lavender soap on the clothing paired with the cinnamon shampoo scent that his senses are picking up from the other side of the bed are soothing
- Peter is just about to drift off when MJ’s breathing begins to speed up
- The change is gradual at first, but Peter’s senses pick it up almost immediately as the time between breaths speeds up and the breathing becomes shallow
- Peter barely has time to wonder if she has woken up before her inhales become ragged and desperate, and he slowly rolls over in the bed, cautious in case he wakes her but swift in case something is wrong
- “MJ?” his whisper is soft and careful, but it doesn’t seem to have any effect on the girl across the bed
- His eyes adjust quickly, and his heart sinks as he finds MJ’s face
- Her brow is furrowed, and though her eyes are closed, the expression on her face is pained and fearful in a way that makes him feel sick
- Her breath is coming in uncontrollable bursts now as her eyes roll beneath their lids, and a few sounds somewhere between whimpers and strangled gasps leave her lips as she silently mouths words, almost like she’s crying or calling for help
- The sight is one that causes Peter’s heart to ache in his chest
- Never has he seen such pain in the eyes of the girl who isn’t afraid of anything, the one who discusses true crime and conspiracy theory like the weather and who walks backwards into every fire armed with a well-aimed retort
- Peter doesn’t know what he’s doing as he reaches for her shoulder, but her name leaves his lips in a whisper that is laced with concern
- “MJ?”
- The murmur is not enough to wake her, but it seems that there is no need
- Because as soon as his fingers find her shoulder through the hoodie, her breaths pause
- And then, slowly, the expression of pain begins to melt to one of exhausted relief
- Peter doesn’t know why he suddenly can’t breathe-- maybe it has something to do with her soft, worn hoodie beneath his fingers, or the slim, strong shoulder he can feel beneath that
- But he knows, as she slowly turns so that she presses further into his touch, that it is the contact between them that has calmed her
- To test this, Peter begins to withdraw his hand, and immediately an incoherent groan leaves her lips as MJ turns her body in search of it again
- Peter hesitates for half a second before carefully returning his hand to her shoulder, struggling with what to do next
- Because on the one hand, he knows she is asleep and he doesn’t want to take advantage of her
- But she’s also in pain, and he doesn’t want her to have to fight it off alone
- So, slowly, Peter begins to slide just a bit closer under the blankets
- As he does so, MJ angles her sleeping body towards him, burrowing slightly closer to him
- The action brings a small, reverent smile to Peter’s lips, but it fades as he focuses entirely on getting closer without waking her
- Peter manages to close the space between them, moving so that their bodies are a few inches apart
- Just when he is about to settle, though, sleeping MJ decides that this is not enough for her
- Peter’s heart just about shoots out of his chest as her willowy frame presses against his, as MJ tucks his head into the crook of her neck and brings them to close that one of her arms is pressed against his chest at a slightly awkward angle, while the other comes to drape haphazardly across his torso
- For a moment, Peter doesn’t breathe at all
- But then a long, quiet sigh of relief is breathed from just a little bit above his head, and MJ’s breathing returns to normal
- And before he can stop himself, Peter slowly brings his arms to circle her torso, keeping them innocently positioned so they are wrapped around where her ribcage meets her abdomen
- She is warm, against him, and the rise and fall of her chest is rhythmic again
- Warmth of a different time floods Peter’s chest, and he savors the moment of quiet peace so long that he doesn’t even realize he’s slipping into a deep sleep
- Peter hasn’t slept this long or this peacefully for a long time, since before the Blip entirely, so when the sun streams through the window, waking him, he finds himself extremely disoriented
- For one thing, he isn’t in his bedroom, and for another, he’s not wearing his clothes...
- It all comes back to him in one instant, and then Peter’s eyes shoot wide open
- His head is on his pillow, and one of his arms is folded beneath his head, clutching the pillow while the other is sprawled across an empty bed
- His heart hammers desperately as he remembers the events of the night before, and Peter sits up so rapidly that he experiences a head rush
- The sunlight is so bright that it takes Peter a moment to realize that MJ is across the room, packing her backpack
- She’s gotten dressed, in the dark green jacket she likes, and her hair is pulled back into a familiar ponytail
- Her dark eyes flicker to him immediately, and she quickly scans his face before commenting, “Nice hair.”
- Peter runs a hand through his mess of curls, swallowing as he struggles to find his voice
- It’s slightly husky from sleep, but he finally manages, “What time is it?”
- “Almost time for breakfast,” MJ replies simply, glancing at the hand in his hair before returning to her bag
- “But you were out late, so I didn’t want to harass you until I had to.”
- “Thanks,” he breathes, not looking away from her even though she’s not looking his way
- The only sounds are the rustling and swishing of her cloth bag for a moment, and Peter’s mind races
- Because all he can think about, in that moment, is the way that her curls felt against his cheek last and the smell of cinnamon and spices that he almost imagines still linger on the sheets where she slept beside him
- Finally, he’s brave enough to ask it
- “How did you sleep?”
- Her eyes snap to his so fast that Peter can’t breathe for a moment, and he wonders if they narrow just a fraction
- But just as he thinks he might have seen it, they are dark and inscrutable as always again, and he is convinced he imagined it
- “About as well as you can when there’s a drone threat snoring across the room.”
- Her deadpan relaxes Peter immediately, though he winces at the last comment
- “Did I snore? I’m sorry, MJ, I sleep alone so I didn’t know-”
- “Kidding,” she hums, returning to her bag
- “Oh,” he says slowly, exhaling in relief.
- “Yeah, you were fine.”
- “Good. Uh, thanks again. I should probably change and then go to the spot where I’m meeting Happy.”
- “Happy?”
- “Oh, um, he helps me out with... Mission stuff. He’s gonna get me out of here, and Harrington got a call that says I had an emergency at home.”
- “Right,” MJ replies, nodding in understanding
- For a moment, there is silence as Peter glances at her in the daylight
- It had to have been a dream, then
- She would have told him if he had overstepped with her, he was certain of that
- He should have been relieved... So why was some small part of him disappointed that, last night, she hadn’t fallen asleep in his arms?
- But Peter has bigger things to think about, bigger drones to fry
- So he pulls himself out of bed and crosses the room to the armchair, where he left the stealth suit
- “I’ll, uh, leave your pajamas on the bed,” he says as MJ crosses the room to the door
- She glances over her shoulder, nodding as she hums, “Sounds good.”
- There is a pause as Peter crosses to the bathroom and lingers in the doorway, and she says it so quickly he almost doesn’t hear her
- “Good luck, Peter.”
- He lets out a breath and nods in return, murmuring, “Thanks,” and then he has disappeared into the bathroom
- But MJ lingers in the doorway of the hotel room when he is gone for a moment, eyes wandering to the bed
- Her eyes take in the depression left in the very center of the mattress: a shape too large for just one person, but the perfect size for two pining high school students, tangled together
- With a glance to the bathroom, she crosses the room and quickly makes the bed, pulling the sheets so that they’re crisp and so that they erase the picture that the bed had drawn of the night before
- Peter still hasn’t come out of the bathroom by the time MJ reaches the door, so she casts one more glance over the room, which has been transformed by the daylight
- A soft smile crosses her lips, and it lingers there as she lets out a long breath, straightens up, adjusts her bag, and then disappears out the door so she can pretend with the others to be surprised by Peter’s“sudden departure.”