Chapter Text
“I saw MJ today,” Peter says with his mouth full of donut. He wipes his face with the back of his hand.
“She’s got a red streak in her hair, it looks really good, obviously. She’s back in town for Christmas break so you know I just happened to walk past Peter Pan’s in case she took her old job up.” Obviously, she did because he’s eating his third pastry of the day. The last one in the bag was the lemon yum yum he bought for May. She won’t mind that he’s going to eat it - because at least he’s eating something.
“I told her it was good to see her again, but I stuttered over my words, you know how I get,” he laughs, running his hand through his hair and then grimacing because his fingers are covered in sugar.
“I’m not sure she remembers me from the embarrassing amount of times I went in last summer. Probably purged the weirdo who only ever ordered a coffee and stared at her a little too long from her memory.”
Peter leans his head back, the stone feeling ever heavy and empty under his hair. He needs to leave, he knows there’s a police mission in a few minutes a couple of blocks over but he hasn’t been to see May in a few days. So he stays as long as possible. Just listening to the sound of her voice in his head, the way she’d tell him not to be too hard on himself, to wear the black jumper to the coffee shop because MJ liked that one. To just ask her if she wants to get dinner.
But he can’t. Because when he went there today, flowers under his arm and ready to finally speak more than eight words to her. She had her apron off, changing from a thick jumper to a thinner one. And it’s not like that the sight of her shoulders rendered him unable to speak like they did when they were fooling around together for the first time. But because he could see so much skin, her clavicle, her neck, the shallow curve of her chest.
So he could see what was missing.
“She’s taken it off,” he whispers, finally standing up and wiping the sugar and grass from his trousers. He rearranges the flowers he bought for MJ, picking out the broken ones and placing them to the side.
“The necklace isn’t there anymore and I suppose that’s fair - it was broken long before I even managed to give it to her. But, I dunno. It was the only thing she had that tied me to her - and it’s gone,” he says, turning to face the gravestone.
May Parker.
He runs his fingers along the stone, begging it to cut him just once so he can figure out if he still feels anything at all. It doesn’t. May could never hurt him.
“All the best things are gone.”
“Hey, Mr criminal,” Peter says, testing the waters with a joke now and again. He doesn’t feel like it today though. The police mission went fine - it’s not like the police are overly glad he helps them out but also they can’t get to the eighth floor of an office building to save someone being pushed out, so. But it’s over now and he can’t face the thought of going back to his apartment yet.
So, he swings behind a guy running away with a woman’s bag in his hand. He flips in the air if only to keep the chase going longer, so he doesn’t have to think about going to his apartment and microwaving some three day old food.
“Aww man,” he hears the bag snatcher sigh. Peter knows they’re trying to figure out if they should just drop the bag and go - or if they're going to try and outrun him. They drop the bag. It’s the right thing for them to do and yet Peter was excited about something. Somehow he can use his powers for something non threatening, for something that doesn’t result in him saving someone's life.
But he figures this is enough. He drops to the floor and turns to find the lady who’s missing her bag.
It’s not late, but it’s cold and he thinks he should just go back to his apartment. MJ would have left for the night so he doesn’t need to make sure she gets home safe but what if someone else trips and needs him? What if someone gets killed when he should have been watching? What if what if what if.
He stays out for a few more hours until he misses the heater from his old suit and the chill settles into his bones. He takes the long way to his apartment though, dropping into the alley to shove his clothes back on.
Peter lifts the door as he spins the handle because the frame is slightly out of whack since his roommate accidentally threw a basketball at it the other day. Peter is pretty sure the building should be able to take a basketball throw every once in a while without borderline collapsing but he doesn’t want to ask the landlord to fix it because he’s in trouble for breaking the windowsill last month.
“Hey, man,” Peter says as he slams the front door. It’s the only way to get it closed.
“Do you have to make so much noise?” Harry replies. He’s an arsehole. One of the worst people he’s ever met but he pays double the rent Peter does because he’s rich as fuck and Peter lied to him when he asked if he could move in. He should feel bad about it but he can’t find it in him too.
“Sorry,” Peter grumbles. He shoves his shoes next to the door, moving to go to his bedroom. Peter doesn’t leave anything lying around because Harry is nosey and pretentious and makes snide remarks about Peter’s things and he doesn’t have the energy to be polite with him today. Once he said his Palpatine lego figure was lame because he's no longer eight and Peter almost choked the life out of him but he refrained. He's been relearning how to pull his punches and how to sleep more than three hours a night. But he's not sure he ever wants to learn how to deal with people being mean about his friends. Because all he has is memories and he misses them like hell - and he doesn't want that feeling to go. Because it's all he has.
But he has been learning the basics. So he can’t linger in his room like he wants to because he’s starving, so he strips off his outdoor clothes, his suit and pulls some sweats and MJ's top and he makes his way back to the kitchen.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” Harry asks around a mouthful of food and Peter opens the fridge. He's now pretty sure Harry is eating his leftovers. Great, now he'll have to spend money he doesn't have on food he doesn't have the appetite for. He should say something but he figures Harry is his penance for letting everyone down. He deserves to not like where he lives because it's not like it could ever be a home.
Peter thinks about MJ when Harry asks his question. He’s always thinking about MJ. But she’s not his anymore - she never really was.
“Er, no,” Peter says, his face not crumpling but his chest does threaten to split in two. He grabs a carton of chinese hidden behind the milk - it smells fine if he doesn't hold his nose too close and he can’t be bothered to heat it up so he decides to just eat it leaning against the kitchen counter.
“Thought so,” Harry says, neither smiling at his harsh joke nor taking it back. Peter begins to think he wasn’t joking at all.
“Well, mine is coming around tonight,” Hary states. It’s not like he needs to ask Peter’s permission even though his name is the only one on the lease - but it’s cursory to check if he minds. Whatever.
“Oh, cool. Are you going to be in here?” Peter asks, not wanting to be anywhere near Harry and whoever is foolish enough to date him.
“Yeah, it doesn't matter if you’re here or not. We’re going to watch some shit documentary and then she won’t stay over anyway.”
Peter doesn’t ask why Harry is so annoyed she’s not staying over unless he finds the need to punch him in the face. Sometimes Harry says things and Peter can’t tell if he’s trying to wind him up or if he genuinely thinks like that - he thinks the latter is worse.
“How long should I stay with her?” Harry asks, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. Peter rolls his eyes, walking over to the couch because he can’t stand Harry - but he’s the only conversation Peter ever has. He’s the only person who knows who he is, so he deals with it anyway.
“I dunno, man. Do you like her?”
“She’s great. Super funny, the hottest chick I’ve seen in a while and she makes my dad furious.”
Peter thinks the latter is a weird point to make it into a top three but fine.
“Okay… so why would you want to break up with her?” Peter asks, thinking back to his super funny, super pretty girlfriend. Ex girlfriend. He never got to introduce her to anyone really, bar the quick bedroom interaction with May. God, they would have got on so well. And now he has neither of them.
He doesn’t have time to spiral about it because Harry is talking with his mouthful.
“It’s been four weeks and we haven’t fucked yet, she won’t even let me get her off.”
Peter's hands tighten on his food container slightly. God, Harry is an arsehole.
“Dude, you can’t - you can’t just talk like that. If she’s not ready she’s not ready. You either like her enough to wait or know she might never want to or you don’t - and if you don’t, break up with her.”
“Parker you’re such a wet blanket,” Harry groans, then, “no wonder you don’t have a girl.”
“Yeah, god forbid I don’t have someone I can pressure into sex, Harry.”
There’s a tense silence before Harry rolls his eyes and goes to clean his plate. He’s a prick but he is a spotless housemate. It’s obvious to Peter from the month that Harry has lived there, that he’s richer than Peter will ever be and probably doesn’t have to do a lot to be that way other than deal with a father who is less than kind.
Peter understands the issues people face when they haven’t had a loving family. Anyone at all. But God, Harry is insufferable. Usually, Peter hides away in his bedroom and wallows thinking about how lonely he is. He’s been trying harder to stay out of his head - and whenever he’s in his room he does nothing but think about MJ and Ned and how they are and if they’d want to get to know him again.
But he knows May would hate how the last year of his life went, she said with great power comes great responsibility. And it’s one of the best things she ever taught him - he knew, of course. But it meant so much more coming from her.
It’s not the only thing she taught him though. She taught him to be kind to everyone including himself. She taught him that you can only ever try your best and she’d forgive him if that wasn’t good enough for him. She taught him to love and be loved in return. She taught him how to be happy when everything in his life suggests otherwise.
So he stays on the couch. His fingers gravitate towards his lego set. He never built the death star without Ned - but maybe he can build it up to halfway.
Peter thought Ned might be back in his life by now, but he went away for summer like he always does and then he went off to MIT. It’s just the way it goes.
He didn’t think MJ would be in his life in the same way, though he was hopeful for some kind of friendship. He thought it possible with the looks she gave him over summer break when Peter frequented the coffee shop - but he was too terrified to ask and he knew she never would. He’s a stranger to her.
But he was determined to speak to her properly this Christmas. He was determined to keep his promise to her before a year was over. But she’s different now after a term away at college. Her face is brighter and her scar is non-existent and she probably cleared out her room so she has no evidence of Peter in her life at all.
And now the necklace is gone. And he thinks he’s too late.
The doorbell rings as he spins a lego piece in his fingers, imagining it was the frail petals on her necklace.
“Grab the door for me, Parker.”
“Alright,” he sighs.
He swings the door open and his heart stops because how did he miss the sound of her walking up the stairs? The way she breathes heavily if she has to walk past the second floor and they live on the seventh and the escalator has been broken since he moved in.
She’s flushed and she’s beautiful and he loves her and she’s here for someone else.
May taught Peter a lot of things, kindness being the main one.
“Hey,” he breathes.
And he thinks trying to steal someone's girlfriend isn't a very kind thing to do.
“Hey, Peter Parker.”
He's probably going to try anyway.