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Peter clicked opened his apartment door, and peaked his head inside. “May?” He squeaked.
Waiting a few seconds, Peter smiled with satisfaction when there was no response. He pushed open the door further and carried two heavy bags of groceries inside.
“It’s all clear. See I told you she wouldn’t be home.” He said to MJ, who followed him inside with the same number of grocery bags.
“Are you sure she’s not going to mind?” MJ asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
“Nah. Just as long as we clean up afterwards, and we will.” Peter said making his way over to the blue kitchen and setting the heavy bags on the counter. Standing on his tip-toes, Peter peered over the large black reusable grocery bags, and started digging into them.
MJ grabbed a red and white plaid apron out of one of the bags and covered her chest with the cloth. Her unruly dark hair was tied in a sleek ponytail and a few loose strands fell in her face. She turned towards Peter while fastening the apron behind her back.
“Are you sure you want to bake a cake?” she asked “You know, it’s not too late, we can still go out and just buy one.”
Peter clicked his tongue in disapproval, “And where’s the fun in that?” He said, pulling his grey t-shirt down since it rose up on his body thanks to lifting the heavy bags.
“Do you even know how to bake a cake?” MJ asked.
Peter grinned, “Definitely not.”
“This is going to be a disaster.”
“That’s why you’re here! You can bake. Plus, you love Ned as much as I do.”
“I said I can cook. I never said I was good. I heat frozen dinners, and I’ve made pasta. That’s it.”
“That’s a start.” Peter exclaimed.
“I never baked a cake before.” MJ huffed, frustrated at his excitement. She wasn’t going to be good at this, and then he was going to see her as a failure just like everyone else. This is exactly why she preferred her guarded sarcasm over opening up to people. She was only going to let them down in the end.
“How hard can it be?” Peter asked, leaning his palms against the granite surface of the countertops. He was spreading out the ingredients while MJ pulled out her smartphone.
“Very hard.” The girl grumbled in disbelief. “Ned better love us for this.”
Peter ran a hand through his thick brown hair. “He will. Okay, so what do we need?”
“Uh...” MJ scooped her phone from the countertop and tapped it a few times. “Okay here it is. The recipe calls for flower, white sugar, baking powder, salt, butter, eggs, milk, vanilla extract and ground cinnamon.”
A smile made it’s way onto her face as she noticed the perplexed expression on her boyfriend.
“Can you repeat that?” Peter requested, looking anxiously at the ingredients he had spread out on the counter.
She waved her hand in dismissal. “We’ll take it slow. Let’s start with the eggs.”
Peter nodded, going to the carton of eggs they had bought and opening the lid.
“How many?”
MJ looked at her phone. “A dozen.”
“A dozen!?” Peter replied with both his eyebrows shooting to the sky.
“Yeah, you know, twelve.” She quipped.
“I know what a dozen means, you jerk.” Peter snarled, “But there’s no way this cake requires a dozen eggs.”
“That’s what it says.”
“Well then you read it wrong.”
“Excuse me?” She crossed her arms over her apron.
“I said, you read it wrong.”
“I did not read it wrong! It said -“ MJ picked up her phone, and went silent. “Oh.”
She felt her face heat, as Peter stood there smirking at her. She closed her eyes and brushed a few stray hairs out of her face before clearing her throat. “My bad. It calls for three.”
“How did you get a dozen outta three?” He laughed, his nostrils growing wider.
MJ lowered her phone. “You know what? Just grab three eggs and put them in the bowl!”
The laugh died on Peter’s lips, “You’re bossy.” He mumbled, but did as she instructed.
He took the egg and knocked it against the side of the bowl, hard enough that the eggshell completely shattered, and the yolk dripped off the counter and onto the floor, while some of the fluid dribbled down his fingers. Peter winced, hunching his shoulders timidly as he turned to her.
“Whoops. Super-strength.” He chuckled nervously, afraid she might yell at him the way May did sometimes.
MJ held out her hand, unable to resist a smile as she did so, and Peter handed her an egg from the container. Gently, MJ cracked it open.
Grabbing his girlfriend’s phone, Peter read the next set of instructions. “All right, next on our list is one and four quarter cups of white sugar. Awesome.”
He went through the list of ingredients, checking them off one by one as he went.
“One and a half cups of flour.” MJ said and Peter put his hands on the flour bag. “Got it right here.”
“All righty, that’s the last thing on the list, just add it to the bowl and we’re good.” She said.
When Peter placed the flour into the bowl, he jumped back with excitement. “Look MJ, I’m doing it! I’m baking a cake.”
“Oh yeah,” MJ clapped slowly, “I’m so impressed that you can follow simple instructions from a phone. Real hard stuff, dork. Real hard stuff.”
Peter’s jaw dropped open. He was so done with MJ’s sarcastic jabs for the day. “Okay, you know what? That’s it.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “What?”
He grabbed a fist full of flour and hurled it at the impudent girl with all his might. The white flour landed square on her forehead, sprinkling down into her eyes.
MJ gawked. She actually dropped her mouth open, before swiping her hands over her eyes to brush away the powder.
“No, you did not just do that.”
Peter gave her an arrogant smile. “I think I just did.”
“I know you did not just do that.” She said, a smile reaching her cheeks.
“Um yeah, I did.” He said, equally as amused.
“Okay. Okay.” She turned and started digging thought the grocery bag. “I see how it is.”
She pulled a can of whipped cream out of the bag, and Peter’s eyes grew wide. “Two can play at that game.” She mused.
“MJ!” Peter warned, backing up until his butt hit against the blue cabinets, “Don’t you dare.”
MJ just continued to smile, shaking the bottle of whipped cream.
“I’ve got you cornered.” She flinched her hand forward, causing Peter to flinch back. Once he realized she hadn’t sprayed him yet, he shot out a web and captured the bottle.
“Oh that is so cheating.” MJ shrieked.
“I’m Spider-Man, what did you expect?”
“You can’t just -“
Without giving her a chance to finish her thought, Peter charged forward with the bottle in front him, and MJ sprinted across the apartment. There was no way she was going to end up drenched in a creamy dessert topping.
She darted across the couch, disturbing the pillows in the process. He followed like a puppy, jumping off the couch after she did. Running around the apartment with Peter on her heels, MJ screamed playfully. Then she shot around the coffee table before heading back into the kitchen.
Peter went around the counter, prepared to cut her off, but she caught him and stopped on the other side of the counter. He flinched left, and she flinched right. They kept moving in opposite directions waiting for the other one to slip up.
“Give it up, MJ.” He cooed with a smile.
“Never!” She laughed.
Peter could see that she wasn’t going to move any time soon, so he aimed the bottle and sprayed whipped cream across the counter, but MJ dodged it with a scream.
“Looks like Spider-Man’s not the only one with super agility.” She mocked, running towards the refrigerator.
Peter was onto her quick. He grabbed her shoulders and spun her around, slamming her against the refrigerator door.
“Got you now,” he said, tilting the can over her head. MJ glanced up, then back at him.
“Are you sure about that?”
Peter raised an eyebrow as MJ reached up and grasped the can, spraying it in his direction.
Peter quickly pushed the bottle back in her direction, smiling as whipped cream sprayed all over both of them.
“Ahhh,” MJ cried with glee. “I’m covered in it!”
“Stoooop!” Peter cried when whipped cream got in his eye. “Ahhh, I’m dying.”
“You stop and I’ll stop.”
“Deal.” He agreed, releasing the can. Luckily, MJ kept her word and dropped the bottle onto the floor.
“At least it tastes good.” Peter said, licking around his face.
MJ locked eyes with him, one of her hands rose to his cheek, and she swiped a glob of cream off and stuck it in her mouth.
“Yup. It does taste good.”
She barely had time to register anything before his lips touched hers, gentle and slow. His hand rested below her ear, and his thumb caressed her cheek as their breaths mingled.
MJ’s hand moved to the back of his hair, tugging slightly at the sweaty strands, as they moved their heads together in sync, the kisses growing more passionate.
“Peter,” she breathed as they broke apart.
“Yeah?” He asked softly.
“You taste like whipped cream.”
He giggled, kissing her again. “So do you.”
“So...um... we should probably get back to the...uh cake?”
“Oh yeah.” Peter turned around, sighing contently until his eyes landed on the kitchen floor which was a mess of flour, egg, and whipped cream.
He gulped. His Adam’s Apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly.
“Aunt May is going to kill me.”
“I’ll help you clean up.” MJ said, sensing the tension radiating off of him. “You stir the cake batter. I’ll get the mop. Oh and preheat the oven to... hold on.” She grabbed her phone once again. “350.”
Peter shook his head at her, “You preheat, I’ll clean.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind cleaning -“
“I made the mess, I’ll clean it.” He insisted.
MJ let out a heavy sigh, knowing full well that Peter needed to clean or else he would feel guilty and blame himself. She was beginning to learn that he had the tendency to blame himself for everything that went wrong, even if it wasn’t his fault at all.
“Okay,” MJ turned around and went to the oven while Peter bent over with a sponge and disappeared behind the counter top.
MJ scrutinized the pan they were going to use. “Is this this right pan?”
“Anyone should work.” Peter called out from behind the counter.
MJ glanced over her shoulder, “It says nine-by-thirteen, and the bottom of this pan says seven-by-eleven.”
Peter stood up and frowned. “Wait, are we even supposed to use a rectangular pan at all? How are we supposed to get it circle shaped? You know... like a normal cake.”
MJ shrugged. “I think we’re going to have to work with what we got.”
“Huh.” Peter huffed. “Okay fine. Poor Ned is going to have to have a rectangle cake. Hope he’s okay with that.”
“Hey, at least we can decorate it nicely.” MJ said, looking at the bag with the various colored icing tubes they bought.
“Good point.” Peter agreed. He made his way over to the bowl and started mixing the batter as MJ greased the pan.
“We’re the best set of friends in the whole world.” Peter said, a little arrogantly. MJ completely agreed though. Ned was so lucky to have them.
After mixing the batter, Peter was covered from head to toe in cake mix. He proudly poured the batter into the baking sheet and popped it in the oven for an hour.
After, he turned to MJ, only to find her breaking into laughter.
“What?”
“You’re cheeks... oh my gosh.”
Peter shot a glare at her, “Don’t talk about my rosy cheeks.” He said defensively, noting how hot the felt.
“I’m sorry, it must be from the heat of the oven because they’re really... um... blushed.”
Peter stared at her with his reddened face and matted hair, silently fuming.
MJ straightened up, holding her palms out in innocence. “It’s a good look on you though. You pull it off really well.” She said. She would never tell Peter this, but he could pull off any look really well.
“Thanks,” Peter grinned sheepishly. He slapped some of the melted butter and measuring cups away, before hopping his butt onto the counter.
MJ did the same, sitting across from him, and wiping the remaining whipped cream off of her face.
“Thanks for coming over and helping.” He said quietly, staring at his hands.
MJ looked down at the messy floor, “You know I like spending time with you.” She whispered.
“I do too.” He said just as quietly.
“This was fun. We should do it again sometime.”
“We should, except, we can’t, cause May is seriously going to kill me.”
MJ winced. “Yeah, I guess we should start cleaning, huh? You did a shit job earlier.”
Peter nodded in agreement. “Hey don’t worry. A little music makes any chore bearable.”
“Is that what you do? Listen to music while you do your chores.”
“Mhm.” He hummed, jumping down from the counter. “Now what song should we listen to?”
“Ohhh, I’ve got a few ideas.”
And that’s how May found them: jamming out to music in the kitchen, slapping each other with wet dish towels, and scrubbing the dishes. They would occasionally dance with one another during slow songs, skiing around the wet, soapy floor, before going back to whacking each other with the towels.
When the cake was finally finished baking, May insisted on helping them with the decoration portion since the entire cake was squared and lopsided. Both kids reluctantly agreed.
At last, the cake was covered in blue icing, and had big red letters which spelled: “Happy Birthday, Ned” across the top. Naturally, the last letters of Birthday were smooshed together because they ran out of room, and Ned’s name took up half the cake, but other than that, it was perfect. It had whipped cream around the edges, and sprinkles on the sides. All in all, it was the best cake Peter had ever made, but he couldn't have done it without MJ.