DISC: I do not own Spider-Man or the MCU.
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Chapter Twenty
"Urgh, if I'd known you guys were going to be sickeningly cute, I wouldn't have tried to get you together in the first place."
Mo glances up to see MJ hovering above her, arms crossed over her chest.
"You're just jealous that you can't put your legs on my lap," Mo teases. MJ's mouth twitches, but her face remains otherwise deadpan as she glares down at Pete. He grins cheekily up at her, his head resting against Mo's thighs, one of her hands entangled in his hair.
MJ plonks herself down beside them with a heavy sigh.
"You can put your legs on my lap if you'd like MJ?" Charles pipes up from behind them with a smile.
MJ flips him the bird, and his face falls. Abraham breaks out into laughter, and claps Charles on the back, "Nice try, friend."
"Hey, some of us are trying to study here," Flash grumbles, his face buried in an open textbook.
"You do know you're still an alternate, right?" MJ says.
Flash looks up with raised eyebrows, "Who knows maybe Parker will vanish again before we have to go on."
Pete ducks under the sudden flare of attention on him.
"Shut up, Eugene."
The boy scowls at MJ, turning back to his textbook, "Michelle is right though, you two are disgusting."
An adorable red flush crawls up Pete's ears and Mo grins, moving to rest her chin gently on the top of his head. Her arms wrap gently around his shoulders, her small hands peeking out from underneath his MIT jumper to pull him closer to her. Flash glances up at the movement and she sticks out her tongue.
She catches the little half smirk on his face before he squashes it with a roll of his eyes. Maybe Eugene isn't so bad after all, she thinks.
"Would you stop," MJ says, a hand snapping out to force Ned's jittering knee to a halt.
"I'm sorry, I can't help it," he says. "How long have we got now?"
"A few minutes," Pete responds calmly, humming contentedly as Mo traces gentle circles over the fabric of his yellow blazer.
Mr Harrington peers out from behind a door, his face barely visible in the dim light of the school hallway.
"We're almost good to go," he says cheerily. "How are we feeling, team?"
There's a hum of acknowledgement from the group of sleepy and twitchy teenagers. A flash of amusement crosses his face as he moves to stand in the hall, "I said, how are we feeling, team!"
They all stare at him, until he sighs, deflating, "Look, I know it's a Saturday-"
"Why did St Paul's want to compete on a Saturday? The competing season's not even started yet-" Flash moans.
"- but the quicker we smash the competition, the faster you guys can go off to enjoy whatever it is …" Mr Harrington's eyes land on Pete and Mo, his words trailing off as his brow furrows, "...you teenagers do on Saturdays…how long has this been going on for?"
Mo flushes, ducking behind her hair as she moves to release Pete from her hold. But the boy catches her arms before she can move, holding on tightly to her. He looks up at Mr Harrington innocently, "What's been going on for?"
The teacher motions between the two of them with a bewildered look, "This, you two, being…this."
Pete shrugs, as Charles and Abraham snicker in the background.
"I thought you…and Liz…?"
"That's Ned," Sally jerks her thumb in Ned's direction, her smile curving wickedly as the boy squirms under their teacher's sudden attention.
"Ned?" Mr Harrington says. "Ned and Liz. Peter and Margaret."
"Ned video calls Liz all the time," Cindy pipes up, glancing up from the novel spread across her lap.
"And Pete and Mo have been obsessed with each other for ages," Abraham adds helpfully.
Ned and Mo's faces turn a matching shade of fire engine red, and she retreats further into the safety behind her curtain of wild curls.
"We've not…it's not…" Mo trails off, sinking to hide behind Pete as much as physically possible. The boy smiles at her, squeezing her arm once. Warmth shoots through her at the comforting gesture, overriding the embarrassment running rampant through her bloodstream. "Shouldn't we be focusing on this match?"
"The match? Oh yes! The meet," their teacher glances down at his watch. "Ok, just so we're clear, we're doing a quick fire question relay, four team members. The Super Quiz was almost one of our weakest events-"
"We won," Flash interjects.
"That doesn't mean there isn't room for improvement," Mr Harrington replies cheerily. A faint cheer filters through from behind the closed gym door and the group turns as one to look at the door. "Sounds like our cue. Margaret, Michelle."
The girls turn to look at the teacher, who smiles encouragingly at them, "What's the plan?"
"Abraham, Cindy, Ned, and-"
"Mo." She whips her head to MJ with wide eyes, but her friend just grins at her.
Mo opens her mouth to contest, when Mr Harrington nods his head, "Good choice, even split between the subjects, ok. Good."
A smattering of applause from behind the door draws their attention, and Mr Harrington turns towards the door.
"W-wait-"
"Show time, team," their teacher claps his hands together. "We've got this."
"There's no we," Flash mumbles as they all stand to filter into the hall.
Mo trembles as she stands, her eyes glued to the swinging gym door.
"Hey," Pete draws her attention to him, his hands on either side of her face. She turns her frightened gaze to his steady one. "You got this."
"I got this," she exhales.
"Besides," his grin is lopsided and she is momentarily distracted by the way one corner of his mouth tilts up further than the other. His eyes spark with mirth, "You have a bet to win, remember?"
He ushers her through the door before she can even reply. The gym is quiet as each of the three teams make their way to the tables signposted with their school names. She trudges quietly up the stairs to the stage, wringing her fingers, a half-step behind Ned, who keeps shooting her nervous looks. The chairs screech as one as the Frederick and St Paul's teams settle at the tables to their right. Mo keeps her head down as she sits beside Ned, even as the mock judge takes up the microphone.
"Hello everyone," they say brightly, "First off, thank you for joining us all so bright and early this fine Saturday. We'll shortly be beginning our mock Academic Decathlon meet between Frederick Academy, St Paul's High School and the current reigning champions, Midtown School of Science and Technology."
A scattering of applause comes from the crowd, but it sounds muffled, drowned out by the rush of blood in her ears. She inhales sharply, her heart sliding into her throat. The judge's next words fade to background noise as Mo stares blankly at the table in front of her, hunching further and further into her seat even as the quick fire questions start.
She falls deeper and deeper into her mind, the panic grasping tightly at her chest. Her hands shake, until -
A warm hand grasps hers tightly, and she rips her gaze from the table to meet Ned's concerned face. The sound of the room suddenly comes back to her, the muttering of the audience and the nearby teams. Ned gives her a comforting half-smile.
"You ok?" He mouths to her. She exhales shakily and slowly nods her head, and his smile grows. "You got this."
She turns back to the judge, clasping her hands together in a bid to halt their trembling.
"Question five, in what room would you find the worst thing in the world in the novel 1984?"
There's a scattering of whispers until a sharp buzz cuts through the noise. All eyes swivel to Mo, who gulps-
"Room 101," she says quietly.
The judge eyes her sternly over the rim of their glasses before smiling, "That is correct."
Ned grasps her arm tightly and she smiles shyly at her teammates. The judge moves swiftly onto the next question, and Mo shifts into gear, focusing on the words and leaning forward to converse with her teammates when she can, pushing back at the sharp panic lodged in her throat.
Frederick gets the next two, before Abraham's quick maths wins them the following point. Cindy grabs the next history question, before Ned slips in a point for physics. St Paul's grabs another couple of points; Mo's brain is wracking, trying to count up all the correct answers and figure out who is ahead.
"It seems that everything is down to this final question. First correct answer wins the point," the judge says suddenly. Mo glances over at the judge, who smiles at all of the teenagers before them. "And question twenty is this."
Mo leans forward, on the edge of her seat. This could be it, they could win this.
"In Greek mythology, which son of a muse journeyed down to Hades to save his wife?"
Mo's eyes widens as she reaches for her buzzer, she knows this, she can answer this-
A sharp buzz from beside them breaks the terse silence.
"Perseus," a short, stout looking girl answers from the Frederick team. The judge eyes her sternly, before shaking their head.
"Incorrect."
She is buzzing before she can even stop to think; the judge stares her down, and Mo's gaze dips towards the crowd involuntarily until it lands on Pete. His face is glowing with pride, on the edge of his seat, his knee bouncing up and down - and she smiles.
"The answer is Orpheus," Mo says, her eyes never leaving Peter.
"That," the judge pauses, "is correct. And with that final question, I'm delighted to say that Midtown has won this meet."
A sudden and familiar whoop breaks through the silence, and Mo turns rigidly to the audience as they start to cheer to see - her dad sitting right next to Pete. He whistles, his thundering clap louder than any other applause, sans suit and tie, but it is undoubtedly him.
She stares wide eyed at him as her team members cheer loudly, their joy rising in a cloud of happiness around them. Happy reaches for Pete to give him a cheerful half hug - much to Pete's shock. A smile pulls at her face, until she is laughing.
Mr Harrington ushers them off the stage shortly after, his face beaming with pride. The other team members crowd them, jammering their praises, but Mo only has eyes for Pete, who is grinning madly at her.
"Didn't I say that you were a badass?"
Mo's face warms under his molten gaze. She starts to duck behind her hair, but pauses, and instead catches her curls and pushes them firmly behind her ear. She smiles at Pete, whose grin widens, "You did."
"I knew you could do it," MJ says smugly from her other side as Pete slings an arm around her shoulder.
"If you do that to me again, MJ, you will never receive another brownie from me," she scowls.
"Alright, team, settle down," Mr Harrington draws their attention to them. "That was a good practice run, although we did let St Paul's get a few answers they shouldn't have, so we'll be focusing on the oral questions again next week, see if we can tighten up our timing. Other than that…"
Their teacher levels a proud look at Mo, who squirms under the attention.
"Good job, Margaret, on your quick reaction to that last question. We're all very proud of you."
The team all voice their agreement, even Flash who begrudgingly smiles at her.
"Right, that's it for today. Go enjoy the rest of your Saturday, and I'll see you on Monday," Mr Harrington says.
The group disperses.
"Has the team superstar got time to hug her old man?"
Mo turns to see her dad, pride shining through him.
"Dad!" She greets him, "What are you doing here?"
"I couldn't miss my kiddo kicking ass at an Aca-thlon again, could I?"
She throws herself into his arms with a wide grin, squeezing him tightly.
"Thank you," she says quietly to him. He gives her a little squeeze, before letting her go.
"You did so well, sweetheart," he says. "Your mum says so too, she made me livestream the whole thing to her."
Mo raises an eyebrow, "Since when do you know how to livestream? Do you even know what livestreaming is?"
Happy rolls his eyes, "Turns out Sweet Pete is pretty good at explaining things."
Mo's face flushes and she scowls at her dad, "Stop calling him that."
"You said it first," he smirks. "I'm just following your lead."
She nudges him with a sharp elbow, but he ducks out of the way. He squares up to her, holding his fists in front of him playfully, "Oh ho, so that's how you want to play it, kiddo?"
She grins, before throwing a few weak jabs in his direction. He ducks under them, before darting forward to ruffle her wild hair.
"Dad," she moans as she tries to brush back the curls.
"So, let me guess," he says, ignoring her pout. "Boxing gloves for Christmas?"
"Nana Hogan's recipes actually?"
"Oh," he winces, no doubt thinking of the dank and crowded loft where the box that held those recipes was last seen. "We'll see about that."
She grins, slipping under his arm to hug his side.
"How do you feel about cheeseburgers?" He asks.
"Does that include jumbo milkshakes?" She eyes him slyly and he sighs.
"Your mum will kill me if you drink that much sugar."
"But it'll be such a glorious death," she grins.
"Fine," Happy sighs and she punches the air. "But if Sweet Pete is coming he's paying for his own share. Boy eats more than the Hulk."
"Hey Pete!" The boy looks up from his conversation with Ned and MJ, "Fancy some cheeseburgers? Dad's buying!"
Happy splutters.
"Uh, you…you don't need to do that, sir, Mr Harold, sir," Pete stutters.
"I'd like a cheeseburger," MJ says. "Ned?"
"Sure," Ned grins. "As long as we can get those milkshakes that are, like, the size of your head."
"Christ," Happy mutters as the teenagers crowd around him. "Fine, come on, I'm buying."
Mo smirks as she slips her hand into Pete's. He gives her hand a quick squeeze as they all follow Happy out of the school into the rich Autumn air.
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A/N: and that's all folks. Part one is officially finished. Part two will start in the next few days.