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He had a full time job. A grown up, scientist job. The Daily Bugle gig was less about money at this point and more about keeping an eye on the public’s perception of Spider-Man.
Oh yeah, Spider-Man.
So really, it was like he had two full time jobs. Plus the Bugle gig.
But as far as Mr. Jameson knew, he had the one full time job. So when he was asked to cover the red carpet for the Tony Awards…he really should have said no.
He wasn’t really sure why he was there. Not just in a ‘definitely unqualified for this’ kind of way, but also in a ‘The Daily Bugle is not a major publication’ kind of way. Sure, lots of people in New York read it, but they weren’t the Times. What was he doing here?
And then a certain leading actress nominee stepped into his sightline. Red curls practically bouncing, the royal blue silk of her gown hugging each curve just right…
…oh yeah. That was why. That was why he was here. Why he agreed to it in the first place.
MJ Watson. Professionally.
Jemma Davis to those who knew her.
MJ had been his suggestion, technically, when they had found out there was already a Jemma Davis registered in the Actor’s Equity. Watson was her mother’s maiden name. In about 36 hours, a stage name was born. It was better than perpetually being billed as Mildred.
“Since when does The Bugle cover Tony night?” her laugh was just as mellifluous as he remembered.
He had to put the camera down, his perception through the viewfinder forced to be replaced with his own two eyes. “I think we always have. Just nobody bothers to read it.”
“So I shouldn’t bother asking if you got my good side then?” she teased.
“You like to be shot from the left.” He laughed. “I do my best to honor that. But you don’t have to stay here and chat with me, Jem. There’s a ton of big outlets-”
“I don’t want to talk to them.” she interrupted. “I want to talk to you, Peter.”
“I have no questions prepared.” he admitted honestly.
Jemma tilted her head to the side “Why? You didn’t think you’d get to see me?”
“More like I felt like you’d probably avoid me.” he chuckled awkwardly.
“Why would I be the one avoiding you ?” she slyly raised one eyebrow.
“Hey,” he tried to smirk, tried to chuckle “I thought I was supposed to be the one interviewing you.”
“Well you weren’t exactly prepared.” her lips twitched up into a smarmy smile. “And one of us needs to be asking questions.”
“So let me ask a question!”
“I thought you didn’t have any.”
Peter couldn’t stop the laughter from bubbling up out of him. She always made him laugh. Even when he didn’t want to. There was something so natural about it. About conversations with her. “Is it truly an honor just to be nominated?”
“Is that the best you can do?” her eyes were practically twinkling as she giggled along with him.
“Excuse me, Jemma, but I’m-”
His fake offense was cut off by a polite correction “MJ. If it’s in the press.”
“Right.” he nodded, swallowing a newly formed lump in his throat. She was MJ. His MJ. That he spent so long looking for after he’d returned from the younger Peter’s universe. His apparent soulmate that he let slip through his fingers… “And who is escorting you this evening?”
“Well, you know, I had a plus one saved for my boyfriend, but he dumped me, kinda out of the blue, if we’re being honest,” she was delicate in her conclusion of “so I’m here alone.”
“I bet he regrets it.” he found himself confessing. “I bet, he lies awake in bed, every night, thinking that even though it was to keep you safe, he misses you so much it physically hurts, and-”
“This is a very profound hypothetical, random reporter.” she gave him a knowing smile.
“Yeah, well,” he looked to his feet bashfully. “You look…gorgeous…tonight. Anyone would be an idiot to even pretend they didn’t want to be with you.”
“You don’t clean up too badly yourself.” she smiled coyly.
He found himself… blushing . God, the grip this woman had on him. “Thank you for noticing! I took a shower and everything.”
“You took a shower?!?” she gasped dramatically, a hand flying up to her chest.
“Don’t act so surprised!” he laughed.
“Hold on, hold on,” she pushed past him, right to his camera “This just in, Bugle’s own Peter Parker has taken a shower. We will keep you updated on this unlikely, world-shattering event. Back to you, Peter.”
He didn’t have a response. He just laughed. Laughed with her. It felt warm, fuzzy…like nothing had changed. The only thing that made the feeling diminish was that the other, larger news outlets that seemed to have picked up that a Best Leading Actress in a Musical nominee was on the carpet, each one eyeing them like they were ready to pounce as soon as Peter let her go. “There are more important people who want to talk to you, Jem, I should-”
“I don’t want to talk to them, Peter.” she repeated, just as she had when he first saw her “I want to talk to you.”
“Why me?” he laughed, thinking this was still a bit. “Out of everyone on this carpet…”
“Because I don’t know when you’ll ever talk to me again.” She was surprisingly candid. “And I don’t want it to be over yet.”
It took every impulse in his body to not drop the expensive Bugle equipment, take her in his arms and kiss the living daylights out of her. He wanted her back, of course. He didn’t really want to break up with her in the first place. But it was dangerous, and he loved her so much , she didn’t deserve the life Spider-Man was causing her to have. So he cut ties. Didn’t mean he ever stopped thinking about her. “Jem, I-”
“Ask me another question.” she interrupted, her voice soft, pleading “Please.”
He nodded, thinking it best to follow her lead. “So word on the street is you’re quite into astrology,” he couldn’t help the smile on his face as she laughed “do the stars have anything to say about tonight's trajectory?”
“Apparently I may struggle being gracious.” she admitted with a giggle “Which makes me think I’m going to lose. Which is fine. I’m Tony Award Nominee MJ Watson in everything I do next, you know?”
“I have a feeling that’ll be Tony Award Winner MJ Watson in a few hours.” he smirked. “You are...amazing.”
“You’d know better than anyone how much work went into this.” she admitted. “It’s been a labor of love to say the least.”
“Now why would I, a random reporter, know better than anyone?” he teased. “I am merely a humble fan of your work, Ms. Watson.” his voice was more serious, more genuine as he added “But you are absolutely a star. It’s undeniable.”
“Thank you.” she gently murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“One more question?” it was less of a request and more…hopefully seeking permission. When she nodded, Peter tried to keep his face straight as he asked “There’s a musical being staged next season about the fictionalized life of New York’s own friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Is there any merit to the rumor that you’re in talks to play the love interest?”
MJ burst out laughing “I think I’d only do the show if the real Spider-Man was involved.”
Now it was Peter’s turn to burst out laughing “I don’t think he’s much of a singer.”
“Maybe he could do some consulting work with the director.” she teased. “Or maybe some of the stunt work.”
“What a typical Libra…” he shook his head, holding back his giggles.
“What?” she cried, laughing.
“Look at you, trying to find Spider-Man a home in your production-”
“I am not involved with this show-” she gently tried to remind him.
“Unless Spider-Man is? Then the contract’s signed, right?” he pressed.
She whacked him in the arm, but she was still laughing “So what if it is?”
“I’m starting to think you may have a crush on the Spider-Menace” he teased, cheesing it up for the Bugle’s tripod.
With a knowing look, she then dramatized. “Oh, how could you not? Big strong muscles under that latex, mmm…”
“That’s right.” Peter smirked. “You have some first hand experience. You’ve been rescued more than once.”
“And you’ve always been there to take the picture.” she countered.
“That’s my job!” he laughed.
Raising an eyebrow, she pressed “I thought you had a fancy research assistant job?”
“I can have more than one job!” he retorted, still chuckling.
“And you do!” she raised both of her eyebrows now, the smile on her face revealing she knew something that the daily Bugle readers - and even the other nominees and members of the press on the carpet - did not.
“Well you know, I actually lost one of my jobs, recently,” he started, trying not to eye her too carefully, to not give away his next move. “I am no longer providing boyfriend services. Maybe you could help me get that title back?”
Jemma’s face flushed. “I’ll see what I can do, if you play your cards right. I might be able to call in some favors.”
“Thank you.” he smiled graciously. “I, uh, I appreciate that.”
He watched almost breathlessly as the redhead blew him a kiss, winked, and walked away. Peter felt like he was melting. Maybe taking this assignment had been a good thing after all. It was such a cliche - but he loved to watch her walk away. His eyes never left until he lost her in the crowd. With a blink, he went back to awkwardly standing with his camera, pointing and shooting, trying to stop smiling thinking about seeing her again - potentially, god willingly, being with her again.
Once the actual ceremony began, it was…a bit boring, to be honest. He was stuck outside with the press covering post-acceptance interviews. He didn’t know much about the Broadway world - everything he knew about theater he had more or less learned from Jemma. He took his silly little pictures, ran his silly little Daily Bugle livestream…
…until it was passed onto them that the awards were about to announce the winner for best leading actress in a musical.
To be entirely honest, he was a little shocked. He fully expected to see a head of beautiful red curls. She was objectively talented. He didn’t expect to see Patti Lupone - a face he recognized but name he only knew through Jemma.
She answered all the questions with irreverent humor. Peter understood why theater people gravitated towards the performer so much. He did feel slightly disgruntled - thinking to himself that Jemma was just as funny, that this could have been the start of her rise to total stardom. She deserved it. She worked so hard. She’d see, maybe, finally, that she was way out of his league this whole time. She’d date some famous Hollywood actor, and she’d be kept safe from all the rogue science experiments that regularly threatened not just New York, but Spider-Man’s livelihood specifically.
Jemma’s co-star won. Her leading man. A charismatic but slightly airheaded man Peter had met a few times in passing. Like Jemma, it was his first nomination, his first time originating a role. Unlike Jemma, he had a few replacement credits under his belt heading into the project. Maybe that was the key to all of this. He never really understood the politics of the theater world, no matter how many times Jemma explained how Disney Theatrical killed Bonnie and Clyde to him.
Her show lost best musical. He wasn’t entirely surprised. Jemma…and her co-star, he guessed…really carried the show. The music was good but the writing…what did Jemma call it? The book?...needed a lot of work, in Peter’s humble opinion.
As soon as the equipment was dropped back off at the Bugle, he took off swinging. Not in his Spider-Man costume, though. No, there was another, more urgent matter to attend to.
“Peter?” Jemma was confused, taken aback, and hardly dressed appropriately. Gone was the glamor, the satin blue dress, the makeup and perfectly styled hair. Instead, she stood in front of him in pajama shorts, and a white t-shirt that she clearly wasn’t wearing a bra under - something Peter tried not to pay too much attention to.
“I didn’t know if you’d be home.” he responded, a bit bashfully. “Could’ve been off partying...celebrating the whole…Tony’s thing. I’m glad you were. Home, I mean.”
Her eyelids fluttered down coyly, as she gently laughed “Not a lot to celebrate. I didn’t win. The show didn’t win.”
She did look back up as she heard the rustling of Peter presenting her a bouquet. It was simple enough of an ‘arrangement’ if you could even call it that. A few roses shy of a dozen, it seemed. They were wrapped together in what looked like a few days old copy of the Bugle. “I, um, got these. For you.”
She took them from him, her tone generous even though her whole face seemed etched over with confusion as she said “Thank you. You didn’t…you didn’t have to bring me these, Pete. I didn’t win-”
“I didn’t get them because you’d win.” he interrupted. “Not that I’d thought you’d lose. I thought you had a pretty good chance of winning, actually. I, um, I’m proud of you, Jem. You’ve worked so hard for this, and now you’re Tony Award Nominee for the rest of your life, and you deserve that, and, and so much more-”
“Well, thank you.” she cut off his rambling. Gently fidgeting with one of the petals already, she bit her lip before pressing. “Is that the… only …reason? That you-”
“I did have another reason for visiting.” he quickly jumped to assure her. “There was something else I had wanted to give you tonight. I really wanted to give it to you earlier, before the show, but it probably would’ve been unprofessional to do it on the Bugle stream.”
“Oh?” Jemma quirked an eyebrow up curiously. “And what’s that?”
“Can I come in?” he questioned, running a hand through his hair. “Just to-”
“Yeah.” she nodded gingerly. “Yeah, of course you-”
She was cut off by Peter’s lips crashing down onto hers, a soft thud as the bouquet dropped onto the floor, his hands firmly caressing her neck, his kiss urgent, passionate, only pulling apart to mumble “You’re so out of my league. You deserve someone so, so much better than me.” before stealing another hungry kiss, this time staying so close that their lips moved against each other with each syllable “But I promise you, if you take me back-” it was Jemma who initiated the kissing, a gentle graze of his lower lip with her teeth as her fingers continued to curl into his hair causing him to moan “- mmm! ...I will never, ever leave you again. I want you in my life so fucking bad, Jemma…”
“You can have me.” she promised, almost whimpering against him. “Just don’t leave me again. I love you so much, Peter.”
“I won’t.” he breathlessly attempted to assure her. “I promise, I swear I won’t.”
Jemma’s lips were still firmly against his as she pleaded “Come to bed.’
He nodded, lips pulling away from hers and into an ear-to-ear grin as she yelped when he swooped her up into his arms. “I got you!” he laughed. Though he was more than happy to stop the laughing as gently laid her down, his own body hovering over top of hers, as she pulled him down even closer, eagerly closing the gap between them again.
“Peter…” she turned her head to the side, intending on breaking the kiss, but Peter’s lips simply trailed down her jaw and neck instead “...there is…something…you need to know...”
“Hmm?” he hummed against her neck, the vibration of his lips sending a shiver down her spine.
“Nothing changes if I…actually signed onto the Spider-Man musical, right?”
Peter lifted his head up, holding back what could only be described as an onslaught of giggles. “What?”
“I signed the papers tonight. The director, Mr. Beck, he literally had the contract with him at the awards show and-”
“You’re…you’re being serious right now?” he questioned, right eye crinkling just a bit in a smirky confusion. “As long as you don’t fall in love with the fake Spider-Man, I’m all for it.”
“Really?” she questioned. “Because the ‘fake name’ they’ve come up with for his secret identity is Peter Parker.”
At this, his face paled.