Chapter Text
Ensconced in their booth at the Bean, Gwen and Peter were too engrossed in their conversation to notice when the rest of the gang walked in. They were smiling, heads bent together so that their noses almost brushed. Peter said something that made Gwen's shoulders shake with laughter. She reached up and tucked a curl of her platinum hair behind her ear, looking ethereal through the steam curling around them. Peter's hands danced between them, enunciating something. They had already ordered for five.
"Aren't they just a picture, fellas?" drawled MJ, brushing snow off the shoulders of her smart green coat.
"Gwen's always a picture," said Flash, uncurling his scarf and breathing deep of the warm café air. "Parker's half-finished graffiti at best."
"Pete looks alright," said Harry, who seemed content, for the moment, to stand upright and shivering in his expensive greatcoat and thaw. His voice came out stiff and reedy, teeth chattering slightly.
"They're gonna get mar~ried," MJ sang, with more laughing relish than could be considered normal of someone carrying an obvious torch for at least one member of the couple in question.
"Seriously?" huffed Flash, eyes following hers dubiously. He whacked his hat on his knee, trying to flick the water of already melted snow off of it. Harry flinched when some landed on him and kicked at Flash's leg in playful retaliation. (He missed by several inches.) "Some days I'm not sure whether they don't still hate each other."
"They're gonna get married," insisted MJ. "You'll be the best man, I'll be the maid of honor, it'll be great."
"What about me?" asked Harry dolefully. He had bypassed the question of whether this hypothetical future was likely in favor of focusing on its equally hypothetical anxieties.
"You'll be a bridesmaid," said MJ, blasé as ever. "Gwen has dibs on you."
Harry visibly struggled with whether he was happy or upset about this.
Peter finally noticed they'd come in and raised an arm to wave them over, favoring them with an eye-dancing beam that manifested on him almost exclusively in the presence of Gwen. Who, spotting them at Peter's cue, gave a crooked, lidded smile and flicked her fingers at them like a queen summoning her subjects.
"Trust Uncle MJ, boys," said Mary Jane, shucking her coat and draping it over her arm before leading them over. "I always know these things."