Work Text:
She kissed him.
Peter Parker kept on repeating those three words in his head as if saying them enough times would somehow make it hurt less.
It didn’t work. (Obviously.)
The red Solo cup in his hand had long since gone warm. He wasn’t even sure what was in it. Someone had simply shoved it into his hand the second he’d walked in through those doors, and now it had become just something to do with his fingers.
The party buzzed all around him.
Music pounded through the walls hard enough to rattle the floorboards. Someone was laughing too loudly in the living room. A group squeezed past him toward the balcony, already arguing over something he didn’t really care about.
None of it reached him, though.
Not really, anyway.
Why? Because he couldn’t get that image out of his head.
The image of MJ kissing someone who wasn’t him.
He should’ve stayed home, but he needed to see them. The ones who were basically living a lie now. Living a life without him in it.
Ned and MJ didn’t even know him… but he wanted to check on them. The way he always did these days. It was one of the few things that kept him going.
Until he saw her kiss that guy.
And now, just before he decided to leave the party altogether, he looked up… and locked eyes with someone else.
She was standing alone near the window.
A dark green jacket swallowed most of her frame, the yellow hood pulled low enough that he couldn’t make out much beyond strands of red hair catching the porch light.
She wasn’t drinking anything.
She wasn’t talking to anyone.
She wasn’t even pretending to enjoy herself.
She was simply… there.
Peter’s stomach tightened. Not from grief for once.
His Spidey-Sense was tingling… but in a different way this time.
And for some reason, that made him pause.
Long enough to make him confused.
He frowned at that because his senses had never done that before.
It wasn’t danger because even E.V. didn’t seem to detect anything out of the ordinary.
The feeling came and went in uneven waves, like a radio station refusing to settle on one signal.
He glanced around.
Nobody else seemed out of place.
Maybe it was just her.
Maybe that was why E.V. didn’t notify him… unless there’d been a glitch or something.
Anyway, the girl turned her head.
Her eyes briefly met his, though he could barely get a proper look at her face because she looked like she didn’t want to be seen.
Then, the feeling disappeared before it even got the chance to settle.
Peter blinked, furrowing his brows and shaking his head, as if trying to shake whatever that was off.
Weird.
Before he could think better of it, his feet carried him across the room.
“Hey,” he said the second he reached her.
Smooth.
Real smooth, Parker…
The girl looked at him for a second, almost like she hadn’t expected him to actually come over.
But he did, so she simply nodded once in return.
“Hi.”
Her voice was quieter than the music, yet somehow he heard it perfectly.
Peter scratched the back of his neck. “I feel like neither of us wants to be here.”
One corner of her mouth lifted. “What gave it away?”
“The fact that everyone else here looks like they’re having the time of their lives.”
“And we’re not?”
Peter shrugged, glancing around the room again. “I think I’m just… tired.”
She nodded like she’d heard that answer before. “People mistake tired for sleepy.”
He looked back at her. “There’s a difference.”
“There usually is, yeah.”
Silence settled between them for a moment.
Peter realized it had been a while since he’d stood next to someone without feeling the need to fill every second with words.
He found it oddly pleasant, but he wasn’t about to admit that because there was no need for anything of the sort.
“You came alone, right?” she asked eventually.
“Yeah.”
“So did I.”
Peter snorted. “Guess we’re both bad at parties.”
“Or maybe we’re good at knowing when something’s over.”
Peter frowned at that. “Yeah. Maybe.”
She studied him for a moment. “Do you always talk like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you have no idea what you’re doing with your life.”
He didn’t answer.
His Spidey-Sense tingled again.
That same way as before.
Peter’s eyes narrowed.
It was impossible.
The feeling kept reaching for something it couldn’t quite find, like there was a missing piece his instincts weren’t allowed to touch.
He’d never felt that before. He made a mental note to check in with E.V. later.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
It came out too quickly.
“You look distracted by something. Am I boring you or something?” she asked again, just to make sure, though the tone of her voice sounded off to him now. (In more ways than one.)
“I…” He rubbed the back of his neck again. “No! No, you’re not. It’s just… have you ever gotten the feeling you’re forgetting something important?”
She looked down at the floor. “All the time.”
There was something almost heartbreaking in the way she answered.
She wasn’t trying to be dramatic or anything. Just honest.
Peter swallowed. “Does it ever go away?”
“I don’t think this is about memories.”
“Then what is it about?”
She met his eyes again, but the hood still hid most of her face. “It’s about knowing what you’re going to do next.”
The words hung between them.
Peter snorted. “That’s… oddly specific.”
“So are you.”
“Is that why you won’t let me see what you look like?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
Before he could answer that, someone stumbled between them carrying three cups of beer.
“Sorry!”
A splash landed on Peter’s sleeve. He stepped back immediately.
When he looked up again… the girl in the hood was already walking away.
For a moment, he considered following her. His body even started to move.
But then, his Spider-Sense went completely silent.
No warning. No pull. Nothing.
As if she’d never been there at all.
Peter stared after the place she’d disappeared.
He didn’t know her name. She didn’t know his. (That he knew of.)
Maybe that was for the best.
Still…
Long after he’d left the party, after the music had faded behind him and the city had reclaimed its usual midnight quiet, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d just met someone he was supposed to remember.
Even if he had no reason why.
And somewhere across the city, Jean Grey was already plotting her next move… and planning on keeping this little interaction to herself.