Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

If she’s being honest, Michelle Jones doesn’t understand why she has to take Introduction to Programming as a pre-law student. Yes, she fully understands that she needs to fulfill a tech credit, and yes, it’s easy as hell to get an ‘A’ in, but it’s the group work that trips her up. 

Apparently Professor Octavius, whose reviews were overwhelmingly positive and who gave out scores of 95 and above like candy, was secretly a supervillain, and after Spider-Man locked her up about a week before classes started, ESU had taken some random business teacher to teach the class. 

There’s nothing wrong with the new teacher, of course, but they clearly aren’t prepared to teach anything related to Computer Science, and the TA takes up most of the responsibility, something he seems fine with. Ned, the poor TA, basically rewrote the curriculum over the course of the weekend, and somehow the teacher does okay with it. 

There’s a lot of group work though, which would normally not be a problem, if not for the choice of partners: pretty much everyone else in the class is a freshman who is actually majoring on Computer Science. As far as she can tell, this means that they seem to have traded social skills and prior experience speaking to girls for axe body spray and the tendency to do things like mansplain what an integer is even as if Michelle hadn’t taken AP Calc during her junior year of High School.

She somehow makes it through the semester though, and according to her calculations, she only really needs an 80 on the final exam to get an A in the class. And yes, that’s an exact number, because the final is worth 35% and she’s got a perfect score on everything up until now. What surprises her, of course, even though it shouldn’t, is that the final is also a group project, which seems a little unfair to her, but she’ll power through. 

Frankly, so long as she doesn’t have to do all of the work she doesn’t really care, so long as her partner isn’t complete deadweight.

It’s a small class though, almost 20 people, and most weeks almost everyone makes it to each lecture. (To Michelle, the number seems high - she makes it a point to never miss a class, even a useless one, but she’s surprised so many first semester freshman feel the same way.) Maybe it’s the fact that 5% of the grade is participation - a number that wouldn’t do much to scare anyone but impressionable freshman. By now, she can recognize everyone in the room, and has a decent grasp of how likely each of them are to actually be helpful. 

Ned adds that groups will be assigned that night in a post on Google Classroom before going on to explain the actual project. They have two weeks and Michelle doesn’t think it’ll be that hard, but there’s an additional writing component, which means that she’ll probably want to get done with the actual coding work earlier. 

With two weeks left, though, she puts the assignment on her Google Calendar, and turns her focus to her other classes. 

Michelle forgets about the assignment over the weekend - she has plenty of other work to do, and she doesn’t have class again until the next Monday, so she dives into old case rulings and focuses on her end of term papers. On Monday, she wakes up to an email, and realizes that crap, she hasn’t even reached out to her partner, whose name she doesn’t recognize at all. 

CS1001 Final Project                   Mon, Dec 14, 2020 at 3:47 AM

From: [email protected]             To: [email protected]

Hi Michelle,

This is Peter Parker, your partner for the CS1001 Final Project. I took a quick look at the assignment and it looks like the easiest way to get everything done will be for one person to do the coding part of the project, and the other to do the slides and script for the presentation. Do you have a preference on which you would do?

Peter Parker

ESU Biochem ’23

Freelance Photographer

Michelle really isn’t sure what to make of the email, especially since she hasn’t ever seen Peter in person. At least, she’s pretty sure. His email doesn’t have a profile picture, instead just his initials show (unfortunate on two counts, really) where most students have a headshot or something. But she’s pretty sure she would recognize him, and it looks like he’s a sophomore as well. 

Add in the fact that Peter apparently feels that sending an email at nearly four in the morning is acceptable, Michelle’s hope aren’t high. Besides, it doesn’t seem like Peter can be bothered to show up to class to begin with. Put it all together, and especially given the fact that she’s dealt with too many situations where a partner takes too long to get their half of the work done, Michelle is not about to take that chance her so far perfect 4.0 on a random partner actually following through. 

Re: CS1001 Final Project           Mon, Dec 14, 2020 at 10:13 AM

From: [email protected]            To: [email protected]

Hi Peter,

Thanks for reaching out. I’d prefer to split the work on both the code and presentation/script, and typically I’ve found that working in person works best. 

Do you have some times that you’re free this week? 

Michelle Jones

There. Good enough. Hopefully Peter can get back to her at some point today, and they can start to make progress. Michelle scans through the assignment and sets up her dev environment before going back to normal work. 

Peter doesn’t get back to that day. 

He doesn’t respond the next day, either. 

Michelle does, however, wake up to a monstrosity of an email the next morning, once again sent at a time when even the city that never sleeps probably deserves some shut eye. She’s still blinking sleep from her face as she sees the email preview from her phone. She pulls herself out of bed and to her desk to read Peter’s response on a large enough screen to read without straining her eyes. 

Re: CS1001 Final Project           Wed, Dec 16, 2020 at 2:31 AM

From: [email protected]            To: [email protected]

Are you sure? It seems like just doing the code or report is going to be easier than try to do it all together. I don’t mind doing either, if you want to just do whichever you think is easier. 

If you do want to meet in person, I’m available from 9:30pm-11:00pm on most nights, or from 6:00am-8:30am on Tuesday and Thursdays. I’m also free most of the day on weekends. I know this isn’t a great schedule, but it’s not particularly negotiable on my end.

Peter

Well, at least Peter is aware that his schedule is garbage, Michelle decides as she rolls her eyes. There’s not much that can be done though, and she did insist on meeting in person, so she types out a response. 

Re: CS1001 Final Project           Wed, Dec 16, 2020 at 9:32 AM

From: [email protected]            To: [email protected]

Peter,

I’m not sure how you make it through school while clearly nocturnal, but 7:15 does work for me. I’ll meet you at Jitters? It’s only a block or two away from campus, and is open 24/7. 

Michelle Jones

She gets an affirmative response and Peter’s phone number a few minutes later, and sets her alarm for 6:30 instead of the normal 7:30 for the next day, sending him a text so he has her number as well. With that, she gets ready for her day, which does include her section of CS1001. 

Peter doesn’t show up, which shouldn’t be a surprise, but Michelle is annoyed nonetheless. It doesn’t sound like anyone has ever seen Peter attend a class, she finds once she asks around, although a few people do say that he was really helpful on their group projects. 

That at least is a relief, because Michelle doesn’t have the time to do all the work, nor would she be willing to even if she did have the time to do so. (Instead, she’d sell him out to Ned and the professor without remorse, although she knows from experience that neither are willing to do anything about a useless group-mate.)

She’s able to get a little work on the project done, but decides to go to bed a bit early to make sure she’s ready for the next morning. 

Jitters was recommended to Michelle by a grad TA she had, and it’s perfect - open 24 hours, always quiet enough to work, but not so quiet to where you’ll be judged for talking. She arrives a bit early, orders herself a coffee and a blueberry muffin, and sets herself up in the corner. As she pulls off her gloves and sets up her computer, a text flashes across the screen.

Peter Parker

Wednesday 9:38 AM

This is Michelle. I’ll see you at 7:15 at Jitters to work on our project. 

Yep! I’ll see you then. 

Today 7:12 AM

Hey, I just wanted to let you know I’ll be a few minutes late.

God damn it. Michelle holds back a grimace as she takes a sip of her coffee. By 7:20, she assumes Peter isn’t coming. Chances are he has plenty of other open times to have met, too, and that he’s just fucking with her. She imagines some frat guy in boat shoes and a too-expensive button down laughing with a herd of douchey frat bros at the fact that he stood her up. 

What she doesn’t expect, is for a baby faced college kid to run through the door a few moments later, clearly out of breath. “Is Michelle here?” He asks to the room, as if anyone other than the underpaid barista would have any idea who Michelle is. 

“Over here,” Michelle calls out, raising a hand and humoring him. He offers and smile and tugs down his hat, curly hair springing out from beneath it as he drops a ratty backpack onto the seat across from her. He pauses for a moment, tilts his head, and then turns on his heel. 

“Let me go buy something,” he explains, which is fair enough. Michelle studies him for a moment, watching as he shoves a 5 into the tip jar, and tries to figure out just who Peter Parker is. He’s wearing a too-big winter coat and is admittedly pretty attractive, but the whole near-nocturnal thing still stumps her, as does the water he sets down next to a protein bar. 

“No coffee?” Michelle challenges, looking up at Peter. He paused for a moment before he speaks. 

“Nah. My Uncle always said that the best thing to wake you up in the morning is excitement for your day,” Peter finally replies, maintaining a small smile. Michelle can tell that there’s more to it than that, especially since that was the sort of sentiment she expected from a classics major who brewed their own tea and not from a biochem major who looked a bit like he had just rolled out of bed and a bit like he had been awake for hours. 

“Well, I prefer the caffeine, but to each their own,” she smiles, and really, there’s no reason for Peter to be likable enough for her to smile, but she can’t help it. “Let’s get into the work?” She suggests. 

Peter has no qualms doing so, and she can understand exactly what her peers meant when they talked about how good of a partner he was. Peter is incredibly bright and he makes it clear, while still managing not to make her feel bad about the concepts and ideas that don’t come natural to her. 

Peter does have a habit of looking at his phone more often than he probably should, but only for a few seconds at a time, more like he’s expecting an important call than he is ignoring her in favor of checking sports scores or whatever it is unfairly attractive biochem majors do. 

They get through so much in the fourty-five minutes they work together that she lets it go, and one emailed .py file later they both have a pretty solid idea of what the next steps are, at least until the next meeting. 

As far as the next meeting, Peter does apologize that he was late, and promises to send another set of times that he’s free as soon as he figures it out. He’s out the door a few seconds later, hat hastily tugged over his head and only one strap of his backpack actually over his shoulder. By the time Michelle makes it out the door, Peter is nowhere to be seen. 

At this point, Michelle is having a hard time figuring the guy out. He’s clearly smart and is getting good grades, he’s far better than most of his peers at interacting with people, but he seems to be nocturnal and doesn’t show up to class. Or at least, he doesn’t show up to CS1001. 

In her experience, most people are pretty easy to understand, and if they aren’t, there’s usually one or maybe two pieces of information that help everything slot into place. With Peter, Michelle couldn’t imagine anything that would make that happen. 

Chapter Text

After the first meeting, the work Michelle needs to get done comes easier than pretty much anything since the start of the semester. She and Peter had decided to make a website that made a word cloud based on tweets, which left two obvious parts to code - the tweet getting, and the actual presentation of the data. 

Most of Michelle’s group partners thus far would have perpetuated unfortunate stereotypes and pushed her towards the presentation, but Peter had been more than happy to take that role on. 

Peter Parker

Thursday 5:23 AM

I put my work so far in the Google Drive. If you could let me know how it looks I’d appreciate it.

Michelle is primarily concerned about one aspect of Peter’s texts: the time they were sent. As far as she can tell, Peter’s sleep schedule is clearly just broken. That said, as long as he gets things done though it’s not like his health is really Michelle’s problem, so she has decided to ignore it and just try to do what she can. That said, she’s working on being less rude.

She doesn’t have any classes on Thursdays (or Tuesdays for that matter), so she pulls up the shared Drive Folder she made for them and clicks through what Peter sent. It’s a bit of a hassle to get it all working, but she does so eventually, and Peter’s work does look decent.

(This already puts him in the upper echelons of group partners, which is in itself kind of ridiculous. There's a reason she hates group work.) 

Thursday 8:45 AM

What is wrong with your sleep schedule?

That said does looks good - I’ll be working on my part today.

Thursday 1:32 PM

I did go to sleep. And thanks! :)

Thursday 2:13 PM

  At least you did sleep, I wasn’t sure if you did that. 

She’s working on setting up the project to read tweets when Peter taps back a sad face, which was as clear an indication as any that he isn’t appreciative of her judgement. He’ll have to deal with it, though, she decides, putting her phone away and turning her attention back to the project. 

Peter Parker

Thursday 8:19 PM

Will I be seeing you in class tomorrow?

The text feels petty. Even so, she was honestly curious. As group partners, it made sense to want to know if Peter would be in class today. She didn’t expect to see him, and she admittedly didn’t need to be so passive aggressive about it, but she did kind of want to see him. 

Still, there was, infuriatingly, no response. She didn’t assume that he would respond immediately, of course, but for someone who seemed to check his phone often she was admittedly irked, even if she tried to ignore it as she went back to her work. 

Did she check her phone more often than normal? 

No comment. 

Finally, her phone does buzz, and she checks it without hesitation. 

Peter Parker

Thursday 10:27 PM

I can show up if I need to, but I was planning to catch up on sleep. 

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. 

That tends to be the norm for you.

Peter doesn’t reply, and Michelle rolled her eyes at the lack of a response. She supposes that she should expect that much, at this point. She reviews her notes for a few minutes, before getting ready for bed.

Peter Parker

Friday 3:56 AM

I can be there, sorry. Just been busy. 

Against her better instincts, Michelle decides to be nice to Peter, and not give him that much shit. It has nothing to do with the fact that he’s clearly just earnest, if a bit of a disaster. 

Peter Parker

Friday 8:10 AM

I’m messing with you. You don’t have to. 

Catch up on some sleep instead or something.

I’ll be there. 

In hindsight, maybe Michelle’s tone isn’t perfect, but that’s okay. 

Well, there wasn’t much that could be done about it from there. What she know of Peter didn’t exactly mesh well with what Michelle though of when she imagined the class. (Was there even going to be a chair for him?) Either way, she worked a bit more on the project, managing to get a few aspects of it to play nicely with one another before heading off to her classes for the day. 

Michelle had a short break just before CS1001, and she would typically spend it outside or grabbing lunch. Her choosing to spend it in the empty classroom was for no reason other than that she wanted to leverage the quiet to get a bit more work done. 

Obviously, no other reason. 

Peter Parker

Friday 3:15 PM

I’ll be a few minutes late to class, sorry. Where on campus is it? 

Nevermind.

Michelle couldn’t tell if the ‘Nevermind’ was because he was no longer planning to show up, or because he figured out the room number. Either way, she tried to push the thought out of mind, and focused on the work in front of her. Students slowly trickled in as she tried to focus, and the room was as full as ever by the time class began. Aside from Peter, who Michelle had decidedly not seen walk through the door like she had been expecting and hoping him to. 

Somehow, as if by a miracle, Peter ran through the doors just before class began. It was almost comical the way he looked around the room, eyes narrowed before he hurried to take a seat beside Michelle. 

“Seat’s taken,” she joked just as Peter dropped his bag to the group with a thump. 

“Oh, uh, I’m sorry,” Peter stuttered, clumsily moving to pick up his bag as the teacher started on whatever speak she had prepared for the day. 

“By you, dumbass, sit down,” Michelle finished, smirking as she turned back to pretending to listen. 

Peter was a good sport about the joke, at least, or maybe he was just too tired to care. He more or less fell into the seat, pulling off his beanie and letting his hair fly loose as he watched the slides with far more interest than they warranted. 

Eventually, the lecture slowed to a stop, and the remainder of the class period was set aside for group work. Peter freely admitted that the mockups were most of what he had time for thus far, and he didn’t have his computer with him (who didn’t bring a computer to a CS class?) but did promise to get things done by Sunday morning. 

Michelle decided not to ask whether Sunday morning meant three AM or nine AM, but either way there would be plenty of time to get the project done. She worked a bit with him on figuring out how to send the right data to his half of the work, before showing what she had already done. 

“So for instance, it’ll look through all these tweets, based on some search term,” she explained, pointing to the white text in the terminal of her MacBook as she explained. 

“And all of these are related to what term right now?” Peter asked, narrowing his eyes as he scooted the chair a bit closer to the laptop screen. 

“New York Times right now, but it looks like most of the tweets showing up are from them and not about ,” Michelle murmured. 

“That might be tricky to fix,” Peter agreed. “Maybe we can just demo with search terms that won’t do things like that?” He suggested. 

That made… a lot of sense, although Michelle was probably still going to at least try to figure it out. She considered a few concepts, before Peter’s voice brought her back to the present. 

“Uh, Michelle? Is this current?” He asked, seeming a bit worried. 

“Yeah, it should be. Here, I can re-run it,” she offered, doing so and watching as pretty much the same results filled the screen. 

The New York Times @nytimes • 2hr ago

Neptune boasts some of the strangest weather in the solar system. While observing the planet’s large inky storm, astronomers spotted a smaller vortex they named Dark Spot Jr.

35s on Today’s NYT Mini @crosswordking • 35m ago

Anyone else annoyed that you can’t access old mini puzzles without paying for an account? I know I should at this post but even so. 

The New York Times @nytimes • 3min ago

Olivia ‘Doctor Octopus’ Octavius escapes from the Raft, making her way towards the campus of Empire State University, her former employer. 

Peter looked incredibly nervous, and judging by the most recent of those selected tweets, that was probably a smart way to feel. ‘Doc Oc’ had seemed absolutely crazy towards the end of it. 

“I’m gonna uh, get going. I’ll email you about the project or uh, something,” Peter stuttered, practically dashing out the door. That seemed to be a pattern with him. 

Somehow, pretty much as soon as Peter was gone, Ned had taken his place. Ned had probably been one of Michelle’s favorite parts of the class - he was always helpful, and didn’t give off the same rude energy that most of her group partners did. Today, it seemed like he had been helping a number of the less prepared groups. 

“How is your work going so far?” He asked, taking an awkward seat on the desk, clearly not sure if Peter would be back.

“Doing alright. Not sure why Peter left so quick, though,” she spoke. “Bit of a flake, really,” she added. 

“Yeah, he’s uh, kinda like that,” Ned replied, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m surprised he showed up to be honest, he normally works all night.” That at least, made some sense to Michelle. It explained the odd sleep schedule, and the fact that he seemed to get most of his work done while the moon was up and New York was quiet…er. 

“What’s he do?” She asked idly, as if Ned would actually know. 

“He, uh, takes pictures!” Ned exclaimed, miming a camera as if Michelle didn’t know what one was. “He takes pictures of Spider-Man for the Daily Bugle, so he has to leave at weird times when he sees Spider-Man will probably be there,” Ned continued, like what he already said hadn’t shattered Michelle’s worldview. “He tries to get pictures of him at night, too.”

Well, at the very least, that explained Peter’s odd hours and why he had left so suddenly, Michelle realized, the headline concerning ‘Doc Oc’ a pretty clear indication of what Peter expected would occur. 

“He’s taking pictures right now, then?” She asks, just to confirm what she already knew. 

Ned takes a minute to consider. “He’ll try to. It depends on if he can get near or not, and with someone as dangerous as Doc Oc, he won’t unless he’s sure it’s safe.” 

“You know him well, then?” Michelle asks, distracting herself from the realizing that her new crush group partner was throwing himself into danger. 

“Uh, yeah. Don’t tell anyone, since I’m your TA,” Ned hedged, waiting for Michelle to nod before continuing. “We’re actually roommates, we’ve been best friends since middle school,” he added. 

“His sleep schedule always been this bad?” Michelle asked. 

Ned shrugged, and Michelle raised an eyebrow as he turned his attention to a text message. 

“We should uh, maybe evacuate from here. This used to be Dr. Octavius, uh, Doc Oc’s classroom…” Ned trailed off, the implication clear enough. He hurried over to the teacher, seeming to explain the situation as best he could, but Michelle wasn’t exactly interested in waiting to see what they decided. She slammed her laptop shut, grabbed her jacket by the sleeve, and hurried out of the room as soon as possible, hurrying down the stairs to the lobby space as quickly as possible. 

Spider-Man was there, perched on the side of a support pole, tense. The next second it was like he wasn’t, kicking off of the door and practically flying towards the door. As Michelle’s eyes followed him, she took in the scene of destruction in the lobby.

She shouldn’t be that surprised by the shrieks, or by the sound of glass breaking by the doors, or by a supervillain, even if she does look much stronger than she did in prior pictures. Michelle is woman of action however, which means she knows exactly what to do - she turns heel and heads toward the fire exit as quickly as possible, leaving the fight between Spider-Man and Doc Oc behind her, at least for the time being. 

Chapter Text

Alright, that last bit was a lie. Michelle’s decision to get away from the fight is not a short term one - she’s just getting the hell out of there. She hasn’t run in ages, probably not since gym class sophomore year of high school, but she books it. She doesn’t even know where she is going, at this point, aside from away. 

Michelle has never thought that she would be the type to run from much of anything. But in that moment, when a crazy supervillain had been ready to wreak havoc within a few hundred feet of her, that was the only thing she can make herself do. 

So Michelle ran, and she kept running, all the way to the coffee shop that smells like burnt coffee and has fake vines on the wall, right into that spot she likes in the corner where the wall slopes a bit and where the cushions are a little bit more worn. She tries to take a few deep breaths, only to realize that she is panting, sucking in air as her adrenaline wears off. Damn. She sucks in a few deep breaths, before shuffling to the counter, buying an overpriced gatorade from the fridge below the cash register. 

It’s weird, trying to pretend like things are normal even after how scary the last half hour or so had been. Yes, New York as a whole had gotten used to Spider-Man and the various supervillains he somehow ended up fighting, but most of New York’s nearly nine million people had never actually interacted with Spider-Man. Given the fact that her heart rate still hasn’t slowed down from even seeing what was probably an insane fight, that’s likely for the best. 

Michelle practically chugs the gatorade before taking a moment to pull out and organize her notes, trying to focus on Marbury v. Madison instead of Spider-Man v. Doctor Olivia Octavius. She also tries to block out the fact that said  supervillain was almost her teacher. She fails at both, and her phone is out less than a minute later, and she’s scrolling through twitter looking for live updates as to what happened in the fight. It seems like it’s still going on, and eventually some of the big hero watch accounts are tweeting blurry footage of a robotic arm smashing a statue and a second slapping Spider-Man into a wall. 

It’s hard to watch, and harder to follow what’s going on as the information comes in. From what Michelle can tell, Spider-Man had been able to handle Doc Oc without too much trouble (a few tweets were saying Spidey had even been rougher than normal, but Michelle can’t tell the difference from grainy, fifteen-second twitter clips). 

In theory, of course, knowing that the fight had been finished and the good guy had won should have been enough to calm Michelle down, but she can’t. She tries to take a few more deep breaths, and tries to focus on what Madison has to say for a few more minutes before finally giving up. It’s pretty clear that she’s not going to get much done today. 

She’s starting to pack up to head home, looking out the front door when she sees Peter Parker of all people arrive, hunched over out of breath before he spots her. As soon as he does he seems to sigh of relief, for a reason that Michelle doesn’t quite understand. He hurries over to her, all but collapsing into the chair beside her. “You’re okay,” he breathes out, like he’s surprised. 

“Uh, yeah?” Michelle asks, because why wouldn’t she be? She feels like a bit of a hypocrite as she says that though, because she certainly doesn’t feel okay, but Peter doesn’t need to know that. 

“You, uh, weren’t answering your texts,” Peter says softly, and oh. That makes more sense. 

Michelle grabs for her phone in her bag, and glares into it for the moment it takes before the five missed messages and four missed calls swipe away and she can read what Peter texted her. 

Peter Parker

Friday 4:17 PM

Hey, the fight just finished, are you okay?

You good? 

Michelle? 

Did you go back to the classroom? 

Call me back if you can

“Oh. Uh, I’m sorry, I didn’t hear my phone,” Michelle says as she reads the messages, Peter’s concern evident through the texts. She pushes her finger to the left a bit, and each of Peter’s texts is spaced just a few minutes apart. She looks back up again at Peter, who seems tired beyond belief. He’s a bit scratched up as well, a little bit of dried blood trailing from a split on his lip down to his chin. 

“It’s okay,” Peter rushes to reassure her, taking a long, slow breath as he pulls a metal water bottle from his backpack. “I was just worried, I didn’t see you and it can be dangerous, is all,” he explained. 

“Yeah,” Michelle says, haltingly. “It was just a little much, I decided to just put some distance between me and it all, you know?” She asks, not sure why she feels such a need to justify her cowardice actions to Peter Parker, flake extraordinaire. 

“Yeah,” Peter agrees, softly. “It can be… a lot. You’re okay?” He asks, putting a gentle hand on her knee, grounding her. 

(It’s weird, she’ll realize later. She hates when anyone, even family touches her, but with Peter it felt nice, far more so than she would have expected)

“I will be,” Michelle says softly, her own hand gentle as she placed it over Peter’s. “Are you good?” She asks softly, pointing her free hand towards his split lip. 

“Yeah, some rubble got me while I was trying to get a picture,” Peter shrugged, apparently unbothered. Judging by the faint outline of scars that went up and down his arms, the fact that he was ignoring his injury shouldn’t have been a surprise. 

“Did the pictures turn out okay?” She asks, eyes following Peter’s as he looked towards his bag, pulling a digital camera out and discarding some device attached where the flash would be.  

(She ignores that fact that he moved his hand from her leg to do so, and how weird it is to no longer feel his touch.)

“I’m not sure,” Peter replies, clicking the camera on and turning the screen towards her. “Help me look through them?” He asks, furrowing his brow as he studies the small screen. 

“Sure,” Michelle agrees, moving to sit next to Peter, her hand awkwardly finding its way to his knee as she steadies herself, and then just because. 

They scroll through the pictures and she ignores how intimate it is, hand on Peter’s knee as they speak in hushed tones in the corner of the coffee shop. 

Most of the pictures are pretty blurry, but a few of them are absolute gems, frames that perfectly seem to capture the grace of Spider-Man as he flips through the air. Strands of webbing frame a few of the pictures at one corner or another, and one photo perfectly captures a punch that one of the metal arms of Doc Oc lands on Spider-Man’s chin, knocking him back into the air. 

The photos are almost all exceptional, but Peter seems far more critical of them, deleting the blurry ones with practiced ease before settling on a few that he seems to like. 

“I’m pretty sure Jay-Jay will only take two of these,” Peter mutters, flicking through a few of the remaining photos. Each of them are jaw-dropping, and Michelle can’t help but feel like any could sell for way more than he probably gets from the Bugle. 

“Jameson?” She clarifies, raising an eyebrow. 

“Mmhm. He, uh, paid me more than I probably deserved early on, and it helped cover some medical bills for my Aunt,” Peter explained. Frankly, that explanation left more questions than answers, but Michelle wasn’t going to interrupt. “I figure I owe him,” Peter explained. “And he pays me pretty well. Doesn’t try to make me actually sign any contracts too, which is appreciated.” 

As a budding pre-law student, Michelle is going to choose to ignore that, at least for now. She’s sure that some freelance photographers are in a similar situation to Peter (and a few of them do work to get pictures of Spider-Man, but most papers seem to push news about him to the third or fourth page now, if you even bother to buy a print paper). 

“I like all of them, honestly,” Michelle says, steering the conversation back to the photos. A few are from the middle of the fight, one is from before it even really began, and a few are from after. All that’s left is the rubble left by the combatants. Together, they tell quite the story, but Peter furrows and eyebrow, and removes the one from after the fight, Michelle’s favorite, without too much thought. 

“You’re choosing the ones that make Spider-Man look bad,” Michelle accuses, watching as Peter continues to eliminate a few more photos. 

“Mmhm,” Peter says, exhaling through his nose. “That’s what JJ wants to see, unfortunately.” That… makes sense, Michelle supposes. The Bugle has backed off of the anti-Spidey rhetoric in the last year or so, but they do seem to like to push the narrative at least a bit. 

“You agree with him?” She asks, and Peter’s snort of laughter speaks for itself. 

“Nah,” Peter agrees, “Spider-Man is a good guy.” He trails off for a second, before adding “as far as I can tell, you know?” He laughs. 

“Certainly seems to be,” Michelle agreed, “not that I’ve ever met the guy,” she added, as if she of all people would have met Spider-Man somehow. 

“Yeah, for sure. I’ve never, uh talked to him either, but he, uh, seems like a good guy,” Peter stuttered. 

Michelle personally tends to just ignore Spider-Man. He does his job, if you can call it that, but there isn’t much that really affects her day-to-day. Plenty of her peers had (and probably still have) huge crushes on him, which the abs make understandable, but still. 

She and Peter end up talking for a bit more, and agree that they can meet at some point on Sunday for the next meeting. Eventually they get up to leave, headed back towards campus. Peter keeps pace with her, like he knows that she still needs someone near her for at least a bit longer.

“Hey Peter,” Michelle spoke, keeping step with him as they walked back towards campus. 

“Hm?” He asked, shifting his backpack a bit as he slowed down to match her pace. 

“Thanks for checking on me, I really appreciate it,” she said, wondering if she could convey how much she really did appreciate it. 

“Of course. Thanks for giving me shit about actually getting the project done. I can be a bit of a disaster, as you can tell,” Peter spoke, like that wasn’t the understatement of the millennium. 

“Not a problem,” Michelle laughed, ignoring the urge to pull Peter into a hug. Michelle sucked in a breath as Peter moved to turn towards the right, opposite of the direction she would have to go. 

“I’ll see you Sunday?” She confirmed. 

“Yeah, I’ll see you Sunday,” Peter smiled, before pausing. “Are you the other way? I’ll walk you home?” He offered. 

Suddenly, Michelle felt very small, like Peter could just read her mind. “Please,” she said, turning towards the left and the crosswalk. 

The walk was only a few blocks and neither Peter nor Michelle spoke, but they eventually arrived outside of her apartment, and Michelle slowed to a stop. 

Before she could stop herself, Michelle pulled Peter into a hug, before pulling away and hurrying up the stairs. 

“See you Sunday,” she whispered to herself.

Chapter Text

Michelle’s alarm goes off at 8:00am, as usual, even on days she doesn’t have a class earlier. She’s read plenty of studies about consistent sleep habits, and it’s something she frankly takes pride in. Granted, she regrets the decision to hold herself to the same on weekends, but MJ is gonna force herself to get up sooner rather than later. That said, as she tries to blink sleep from her eyes, every bone is her body is begging for five more minutes. It takes a few more five minutes later, and she finally manages to roll out of bed closer to nine than to eight. 

It takes a moment of honesty with herself to realize why she’s so tired, and then it all comes back to her, and she feels her heart beat frighteningly fast as she recalls the fight the day before. She shouldn’t be this shaken up, she knows. She’s a New Yorker, and she’s seen plenty of videos of Spider-Man fighting villains, Doc Oc even. It’s different to run from that kind of thing potentially happening in person, though. It feels so much more real, and the idea of going outside into potential danger troubles her more than it probably should. Damn. 

She finds a video of the fight on YouTube, hunched over her phone as she brushes her teeth. The video’s runtime is three minutes and six seconds, starting nearly as soon as Doc Oc arrives on campus. Spider-Man is between Doc Oc and the crowd as they cower up against the corner. The hero seems distracted, however, scanning the crowds and taking every opportunity to keep Doc Oc away from the crowds, even if it means making riskier attacks and putting himself into harm’s way more than he tends to. If Michelle had to pick just one adjective for his behavior it would probably be feral, a word she never expected to describe New York’s favorite person since Babe Ruth. 

Typically Spidey is willing to take his time, Michelle knows, particularly to make sure that he limits damage to property and keeps onlookers safe. This time is different, though; Spider-man is brutal, and he finishes the fight far quicker than anyone would have predicted. Then, unexplainably, he swings off as soon as he webs the unconscious body of Doc Oc to the ground. Some autoplay compilation of other super-powered fights queues up and MJ swipes up on the app and closes it. Belatedly, she realizes she held her breath for at least two of those three minutes, and she lets out a slow exhale before closing her eyes. 

Okay, so that didn’t help, like, at all. She is terrified, and it makes very little sense. But fine, Michelle is a big girl, and she has shit to do today, classes or no. Laundry must be done, and groceries must be acquired. It’s only when she can’t force herself to turn the doorknob to her apartment to leave that she realizes that she’s not going grocery shopping alone. She can’t make herself do it. This is actually common, she knows, people needing a “buddy system” after close encounters with villains. She’d scoffed at the idea in the past, but now she gets it. 

She opens the messaging app on her phone, trying to figure out who’s free. Betty is not, she knows, and both of her parents have work. There’s only one name that makes sense, the most recent person she texted, too. 

Peter Parker

Today 10:18 AM

I have to go grocery shopping and don’t want to go outside. Buddy system?

There. She texted him. Shit. He’s gonna think she’s a wimp or something now, asking a project partner for comfort. She puts her phone back in her pocket, glad to have that over with. It’s not like he’ll respond anyways, and now she can at least say she tried. It’s a good excuse, really, to go mope on her couch and watch her favorite childhood shows and eat ice cream. Those plans, unfortunately, are interrupted by her phone buzzing. 

Today 10:22 PM

Yeah sounds good!

I mean, I can do it. Not good that you’re feeling shitty, of course. I’m nearby actually, I can meet you in like 5?

She snorts. 

Today 10:23 PM

Obviously, I know what you mean. 

See you in 5.

It feels silly to have asked, but she can’t find it in her to be disappointed that Peter said yes. She pulls on a coat and grabs her tote bag, and heads down the stairs of her walk-up to meet him outside. 

Peter shows up soon after, from the direction opposite of campus, which is a little weird, but so is he, so she’s hardly surprised. “Hey,” she greets, not sure what else to say. 

“Hey!” Peter greets her back, with far too much enthusiasm for it being so early. He take a sip of coffee, and holds another cup out towards her. “It’s tea, I figured you might want some,” he babbles, which is more endearing than she anticipated he would be. He’s right, too: a sip makes her feel much better. 

“Thanks,” she says, not sure she trusts herself to say anything more. She smiled at him, though, and starts walking as Peter beams back at her. “Do you need groceries too?” She asks, determined to at least make some small talk. Peter hums, as if considering. 

“I don’t cook much, but I should pick up some granola bars or something I guess,” he decides. That’s more or less what Michelle normally does as well, which means they make quick time filling up the cart they end up sharing. 

Peter adds far more granola bars than she would expect someone his size to need, but Michelle isn’t going to comment on that. “Do you ever eat real food?” She asks him, raising an eyebrow at the fruit snacks he adds to the cart next.

(What? She isn’t going to judge him for the amount of food, but she also hasn’t seem him even look at a single real fruit or vegetable.)

“Not really, not much time to cook,” Peter answers, which Michelle rolls her eyes at. She shouldn’t be surprised by that, she supposes, given how busy the kid clearly is. The fact that he’s even awake right now seems like something of a miracle, with what she knows of him. 

“I’ll make you something after this.” She suggests, before she realizes what she is saying. “As a thank you. You have to help, though,” she adds, just to make sure it isn’t weird. (She thinks it still might be.)

Peter doesn’t seem to think so, though, and he just smiles. “Sounds good, Chef Jones,” he replies, before they both blush and break eye contact. She makes a point to pick up a few actual supplies to make a chicken parm, shamelessly finding a recipe online to make sure that her cart contains every ingredient required. 

The problem, of course, is that Michelle can’t really cook either. “You know how to cook chicken?” She asks, holding up her phone so that Peter can see the recipe she’s reviewing. He thinks for a moment, and then shrugs. “I can try?” He says, with what sounds like negative confidence. She has even less confidence, unfortunately. 

The chicken is a shared job and the two crowd the over her phone to read the recipe once they make it back to her apartment. They actually make a good team, barely needing to talk as they move around one another, and it doesn’t take long for them to finish and put the pan into the oven, and it’s time to wait. 

Michelle hasn’t thought this far ahead, and it quickly becomes clear that neither has Peter. 

“I was planning to watch avatar and eat ice cream today, want to do that while we wait?” She asks him. At least something to watch will give them both a distraction while they wait. Peter is fine with that, but takes care to sit on the other side of the couch from her.

Michelle turns her attention to the TV, determined to at least add some background noise to their slightly awkward quiet as she starts the show. 

“Hey,” Peter murmurs, just loud enough to be heard over Aang and Katara. “You feeling okay?” He asks. His voice is touched with concern and empathy, and Michelle can’t help but feel like he can read her mind as she looks back at him. 

“I will be,” she decides, and it’s true, so long as she doesn’t think too hard about what happens. Peter doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t push, which she is grateful for. 

It’s cute, how respectful he is, clearly not wanting to do anything to mess up the whatever-it-is they have going on, even as she catches his eyes go down to her lips every so often when they sneak eye contact while the show plays on.

She doesn’t mind, funny enough, and is a little disappointed that he chose to sit so far from her. “Chill out,” she advises him, observing his rigid posture as he sat up on the edge of the seat. Peter does so, thankfully, giving her a small smile as he leans back, tentatively putting his feet up on the ottoman. She does the same, watching Peter carefully. She pushes her foot up against him and smirks, and he pushes his back against hers before settling them down a bit away from her. Something about him just doesn’t add up, and she can’t tell if it’s a secret of some kind, or it’s just her having trouble dealing with this crush she’s finally willing to admit that she has. Peter is a bit of a puzzle, and Michelle can’t help but feel like she’s missing one piece that make it all fit together. 

“You’re thinking pretty hard,” Peter comments, and Michellege suddenly realizes that she’s been staring at him. 

“Sorry,” she mutters, and then he gently places a hand on her knee. Michelle can’t help but feel the same tingle she felt the day before.

“Hero shit is scary, I get it,” he murmurs, and it feels once more like there are pieces that she doesn’t get just yet. She’s determined to ignore them, at least for now, as she scoots a bit closer to him, not subtle it in the least. Something in Peters mind seems to click, then, and he moves a bit towards her as well, and gently places his hand up on the back of the couch, letting her fit up against him. She lets his arm rest around her shoulders, and gently takes his other hand with hers, gently rubbing her thumb with her own. Peter’s hands are well-callused and covered in small scars, one more puzzle piece that doesn’t quite fit with this man she feels totally comfortable being vulnerable with.

“No one should have to think about all the hero stuff going on out there,” he says softly, words a whisper in her ear like it’s a secret. 

“You do,” Michelle replies, suddenly struck with concern as she realizes just how normal it all must be for him. She feels a little silly, so worked up over something that Peter seems entirely unaffected by. 

“I do.” Peter agrees, and sounds resigned to the fact. Once again, it feels like a puzzle piece should have clicked into place, but the pieces are upside down, and Michelle has no clue what it means or how to interpret his words, as significant as a voice in the back of her head tells her they are. 

Cuddling feels nice, and Peter is quite happy to just sit and hold Michelle as they watch their show together. “Thank you,” she says, quiet. She looks up at Peter, and is surprised to see that he’s fell asleep, head rolled back at an angle that doesn’t look comfortable in the least. 

Peter looks peaceful like this, and Michelle’s mind jumps to all of his early morning and late night texts and decides to let him rest; the poor guy clearly needs it. She would drift off as well, she knows, if she could just calm down her beating heart. She has a crush, she can admit that now, but she didn’t think it would this bad this soon. She lets him hold her in his arms as he sleeps, and gently lets go of his hand. She shuts of the TV and opens her phone, trying to review some flash cards while Peter sleeps. She quickly finds that she can’t focus. 

Michelle is saved, thankfully enough, by the beeping of the oven. Peter seems to wake up sharply, and Michelle just gets up, gently moving out of his arms. “Morning, sleepyhead,” she teases, not willing to look at Peter even as she tries to project confidence. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Peter speaks, slowly getting up and moving to follow her to the kitchen. “It’s all good,” Michelle replies. She’s surprised that she means it, and didn’t even need to fight back a sarcastic quip. She certainly wouldn’t have been that way with Brad, she knows, back when they were actually dating all the way back in Senior year of high school. 

Peter gets out a pair of plates and a set of silverware for the two of them, and they move back to the couch thanks to the lack of a dining room table and Michelle and Betty’s tiny apartment. “This is really good,” Peter says between large bites, mouth still somewhat full. Once again, Michelle is struck by how endearing she finds it, despite the poor manners. She can’t help but agree, they somehow managed to do a great job. They eat in silence, making eye contact every so often between bites. 

When they’re finished, Michelle spots some tomato sauce on the corner of Peter’s mouth, for a reason that she would swear is entirely unrelated to the fact that she keeps looking at his lips. 

“You missed a spot,” she says, gently wiping the smudge of tomato sauce with her thumb. 

Peter seems to catch on, and scoots a bit closer to her, one hand moving to her waist and the other up to her own cheek. The two lean in slowly, and Michelle’s eyes close as they kiss, soft and gentle. She wants more, she knows, and it isn’t the time for that, but she moves to straddle his lap anyways.

They are interrupted what feels like seconds later, because of course they are, by the sound of a pair of keys in the door. “That’s my roommate", she murmurs against Peter’s lips as she hurries off of his lap, a moment too late. Betty, the angel that she is, pretends not to have noticed anything, but neither she nor Peter are fooled. Michelle begins to mentally prepare for an interrogation once he does leave.

“I should, uh, I should get going,” Peter stutters, and Michelle just nods. “We’re good though, yeah?” Peter continued, like his tongue wasn’t down her throat a minute ago. Michelle can’t help but laugh. 

“We’re good, Peter, promise. Plan us a real date and we’ll be even better,” she winks, unsure where her sudden confidence comes from. “You’ve got it,” Peter replies, pretty much instantly, and Michelle can’t hide her smile. She walks him to the door, and he picks up his own groceries from the hallway where he left them before heading out. 

Betty is on her the moment the door closes. “Plan us a real date and we’ll be even better? I didn’t know you had game, Michelle Jones,” Betty laughs, giving Michelle a look. Michelle just shrugs and grins; she can’t help but roll her eyes at her best friend’s antics, which she knows are totally well meaning. 

“Oh, shut up,” she grumbles. She knows it’s out of character for her, perpetually single Michelle Jones, to be talking to a guy at all, but she doesn’t want to deal with Betty’s teasing at this moment. 

“You’re not getting away from me that easy,” Betty smirks, waking down the little hallway to the living room and plopping herself on a chair, pointedly avoiding the couch. “If you’re gonna make out with my boyfriend’s roommate on my couch I deserve some details,” she snipes, which, fair. ~

“Boyfriend?” Michelle replies, because that actually is news to her. Last she knew, her best friend and the mysterious Ned that she’s never met were off again, in their on-again-off-again relationship. 

“My boyfriend, Ned Leeds? Ever heard of him?” Betty replied. “Quit trying to distract me though, spill.” She continued, cutting Michelle off. 

“Ned Leeds? I’m pretty sure he’s my TA,” she tries once more, but Betty doesn’t bite. 

“Why am I catching you in the lap of your TA’s roommate, then?” She snipes back. 

Betty’s directness is a big part of why MJ gets along with her so well. She loves it more when it’s not directed at her, though. “Didn’t know he was dating your Ned,” she answers. “But it just kinda happened. He went grocery shopping with me this morning, since I was scared out of my mind from yesterday,” and Betty has the decency to nod. 

“You’re not dating?” Betty asks, and Michelle nods her head from side to side. “You should be. He’s a catch, if you can get over his weird Spider-Man cosplay thing,” which Michelle had no idea about. 

“I met him like a week ago, it’s too early to think about that,” she mutters, since she really doesn’t have the energy to get into it right this second. 

“Not too early to christen the couch I carried up three flights of stairs for us, though?” Betty responds with a raised eyebrow, and Michelle is pretty sure she’s gonna blush. “I’m happy for you, really. Next time just keep that to your room, though,” Betty continues.

“Not sure there’ll be a next time, he ran off,” Michelle grumbles, “thanks for that,” she adds, as if it’s Betty’s fault that she walked into her own apartment.

Betty just rolls her eyes, staring Michelle down like she can see right through her. “Please. The guy was embarrassed, but I’ll bet he’s head over heels for you,” Betty smirks, just as her phone buzzes. 

Peter Parker

Today, 1:17 PM

Hey, let’s do something tomorrow? If you want. No pressure, but I had fun hanging out. :)

“That’s him, huh?” Betty teased, and now Michelle is sure she’s blushing. “Shut up,” she can’t help but smile back, and retreats to her own bedroom to avoid further interrogation. Betty is not the person to give relationship advice, though Michelle is starting to think she could use some. 

Today, 1:23 PM

I’m free in the afternoon. You’re in charge of planning our date.

A heart icon pops up on her message immediately as Peter taps back, and she can’t help but blush.