Title: give up, give in (check the grin you're in love)
Summary: Peter and MJ drive home from university. MJ POV. The consequences of one car, one bed and, on occasion, one room.
Disclaimer: I am not associated with Marvel and make no profit from any of what I am posting.
Chapter 1: The Day They Leave
MJ's not sure why she agrees when Peter asks if she'd like to drive back to Queens with him.
"Like a road trip?" she'd clarified when he asked her.
"Exactly!" Peter had said, eyes filled with an enthusiasm that used to be familiar not long ago and, despite herself, Michelle had shrugged and agreed.
They've talked more in the last week than they have since Freshman year. He texts her asking if she's cool with being spontaneous about where they eat stay, and MJ replies with a simple: 'Sure'.
There's no backing out after that. Peter sends her pictures of maps he's opened up on his laptop during finals week and MJ texts back with a picture of the large bag of snacks and supplies she's bought. They have a constant conversation about places they could stop at for the sake of scenery, but there's a storm warning for the week after they leave, and Peter insists that they shouldn't take their time and risk getting caught.
She's nervous when they finally meet — two days after the term ends. Nervous because it's been a while since she last talked to Peter properly, and longer still since they hung out like this; alone.
They'd chosen to go to Stanford after High School because it meant that they could stay together. Best friends at school and best friends through uni seemed like the best idea they'd ever had. Except, their timetables never lined up right, and MJ soon made friends in Pol Sci just as Peter made friends in Chemistry. They went from meeting every day to once a week, to once a month until it just stopped.
They still talk. They've been texting all week, obviously, and they stop to catch up every time they bump into one another. They tried to meet during the holidays too but didn't manage to meet as often as they'd hoped. It's just not the same as it used to be back at school, and there's a part of MJ that's scared that they'll never go back to being the way they were.
"All set?" Peter asks, heaving her suitcase into the trunk of his red Honda. She's surprised he manages to pick it up — the Peter she's always known was weaker than MJ, and she'd nearly died trying to bring her things down.
"I might have been a bit paranoid," she tells Peter, gesturing towards everything she's piled into the backseat. She's got snacks, toilet paper, a first aid kit, insect repellent — just about anything you could imagine.
Peter smiles at her. "There's no harm in being prepared," he says. He's taller than her, MJ realises suddenly. He used to be shorter than her — she doesn't know when (or how) it happened. He's not taller by much, but something about the glint in his eyes tells MJ that Peter noticed too.
"You're taller," she says, climbing into the car.
"I am," Peter agrees.
"How?"
"Pull-ups," he says, and he shoots a grin in her direction as he turns the key and the car comes to life. "Seat-belt."
MJ curses under her breath, buckling herself in. "You're not allowed to be taller than me," she declares, watching Peter pull out of the driveway. They're leaving the parking lot now, and they'll be out of Stanford soon. This is it, a voice whispers in her head. From now on they're on the road — it'll be just the two of them for the next four days, on their own.
"Why?" Peter asks, and even though he's facing the road, MJ feels like she's being watched. It takes her a second to remember what they've been talking about.
"It's illegal," she declares.
Peter snorts, glancing at her quickly. "God, MJ. Though it is pretty nice being all the way up here, you know? You're missing out on some good weather."
"You're barely an inch taller."
He shrugs.
"Was it really just pull-ups?"
"Yep."
"I feel like you're lying."
"I'm not."
"Peter ."
His eyes find hers again. Just for a second. "MJ ."
She feels ten again, sitting next to Peter during lunch and arguing about something stupid. This, she realises, is also stupid. Though it feels important. She's been taller than him all her alive all their life, and then, they grow distant for just over a year and, all at once, Peter's taller.
"It's not fair," she says, and Peter grins.
"Life's not fair."
She used to say that all the time. MJ still does, sometimes, but her' life's not fair ' phase was particularly centred around High-School. She's tempted to stick her tongue out at him, but Peter's watching the road, and it isn't nearly as satisfying to be childish if she isn't being watched.
It takes MJ a moment to realise that she never replied. That silence has fallen over them and that she has no idea how to fill it. MJ never felt awkward around Peter before, but she feels suddenly desperate to fill the silence. To keep the conversation going.
She'd stayed up last night thinking about this; about them. There's a part of MJ that's scared they'll suddenly realise they've forgotten how to be friends; that they'll realise they're both different to what they used to be, and that they've got nothing in common. There's a smaller part that hopes they'll get close again after this. Stupid as it sounds, even to herself, MJ wants to go back to being the way they used to be.
Or, if nothing else, she wants to go back to being friends. And for that, they need to talk.
She racks her brain, trying to remember things about him. Things that used to matter. Like the way he'd always pick the tomatoes out of his food because 'they're disgusting' or if he still hates Inorganic Chemistry. All of it's too random right now though. There's nothing she has to say and, more than that; there's nothing she knows how to say just yet.
"Music?" MJ asks instead, voice unnaturally high. If Peter finds it odd, he says nothing.
"I should be connected," he says, picking up his phone from where it sits in the cup-stand that separates them and tossing it in her direction. "Password's still the same."
She remembers, of course. Ten Twenty-Seven. The day Ben died. MJ wonders if his classmates at uni know. She wonders if he talks to them the way he used to talk to her; if he still gets nightmares and if he has someone else he calls when he's at his lowest.
"Got it?" Peter asks.
"Yep," she says, and hits shuffle.
Peter sings. Of course he does. He rolls down the windows and cranks up the volume till it's deafeningly loud, and sings along. She should sing too. She could.
But MJ opts to kick off her shoes instead, crossing her legs and leans her head against her window, watching Peter as he drums his fingers on the steering wheel, singing terribly out-of-tune. She wonders why they gave up on being best-friends so easily.
Life would have been easier if Peter was still her best friend.
"Em?"
She wakes up with a start, sitting up straight and becoming instantly aware of the sharp pain in her neck. They've stopped.
"Where are we?" she mumbles.
"We just crossed into Nevada," Peter says. "Figured we might as well stop for lunch."
She stretches in her seat, unbuckling the seat-belt. "I am hungry," she mumbles, her brain only dimly aware of the fact that she's awake and talking out loud. Peter chuckles from next to her. He hasn't moved yet.
She narrows her eyes at him. "Why are you staring at me?"
"Nothing," Peter says. "You just look really cute right now."
MJ feels her cheeks go warm. He's still looking at her. Staring at her. The smug smile that had been plastered to his face when she'd realised he's grown taller than her is back, and it makes MJ feel oddly self-conscious.
She grabs her shoes, untying and retying the laces if only to keep herself from staring back at Peter. He still hasn't moved, and something about the prickling feeling at the back of her neck makes MJ feels like she's still being watched.
"Let's go?" she asks, climbing out of the car before Peter has the chance to reply.
She didn't feel this awkward around him before. She wasn't always this nervous or jumpy or — MJ shivers as the chilly-December air hits her.
"It's cold, isn't it?" Peter asks. He's already opened the rear-door, scooping up the extra layers they'd discarded the moment the car had gotten warm enough. He tosses her sweater at her, and MJ catches it deftly, quickly tugging it over her head.
"Coat?" he asks.
"Sure."
He shuts the door with a bang, watching MJ put on her coat.
"Wait," he says, as she straightens the sleeves, and he takes a step towards her. He's carrying her scarf, MJ notices. And her hat.
He lifts her hair, wrapping the scarf snuggly around her neck while taking care to keep her hair from getting trapped underneath, and then he pulls her woollen hat over her head, half-covering her eyes. She's not sure why Peter decided to help her out, but it's making it suddenly impossible for MJ to breathe.
"All bundled up," he declares, and MJ, adjusting her hat so that she can see again, rolls her eyes at him.
"Loser," she says, and Peter winks at MJ. His eyes gleaming with amusement and something more than MJ can't quite place. There's an uncomfortable knot in her stomach for some reason, and her cheeks feel suddenly warm in spite of the cold. MJ looks away from Peter, willing herself to calm down. She doesn't know what's wrong with her.
They've parked outside a McDonalds. They order two meals, and Peter spends most of lunch attempting to steal MJ's French Fries. He talks about how he nearly slept through his Thermo final. She rants about her American Politics Prof. They're not talking about anything important yet — it's just casual small talk — but it feels like a start.
And it feels good.
"Seven hours to Salt Lake City," Peter says as they're leaving. "We could stop for a quick snack on the way, but I'd rather we reached in time for dinner." He stops at the car, hand hovering above the handle. "Wanna drive?"
"I'd love to."
It's easier to drive, MJ decides.
She has something to focus on that isn't Peter, which is quickly becoming harder than MJ had anticipated. On the flip side, even now, MJ can feel Peter's eyes on her. Something about the intensity of his gaze catches her off guard. She feels like she's made of glass when he stares at her like that — it's as though, if he tried, he'd be able to see through all the walls she's built around herself.
Not that he needs to. MJ's always told Peter more than she's ever told anyone else. He knows her best in the world, and it stings to think that they let themselves get lost in the hustle of uni. They've always been better together, for as long as MJ can remember. They're supposed to be the ultimate team.
That said, Peter isn't half as good as MJ is when it comes to giving directions. They go around the roundabout twice, and MJ has to take a U-turn and back up because they somehow end up off the main road and away from the highway, but they're out of Reno soon enough.
Peter turns on the radio this time, the volume no longer deafeningly high, and MJ hums along to the Christmas collection they've got playing, dimly aware of the fact that Peter's doing the same.
"Oh!" he exclaims when Mariah Carey starts playing, and MJ shoots a frown at him as Peter leans forward to crank up the volume.
"I don't want a lot for Christmas," he starts to sing, prolonging the initial 'I' and somehow managing to get horribly out-of-sync at once. MJ has to resist the urge to laugh at him. The song picks up quickly, and she can feel Peter practically dancing in the passenger's seat.
And MJ sings along. Because fuck it. Because they're on a road trip, and it would be blasphemous not to belt out the lyrics to something and because Peter's enthusiasm has always been contagious. The next song comes up, and they go on. When the radio-jockey comes in to start talking, Peter quickly swaps the radio for a playlist on Spotify, and suddenly they're rapping to Kendrick Lamar at the top of their lungs, off-beat and out of sync and MJ honestly couldn't care.
It's the most alive she's felt in months.
When they stop at last, her throat aches from singing.
MJ buys hot chocolate, if only because that used to be their thing. Hot chocolate on Christmas morning that her Mum would make for MJ and Peter while they sat on the small dining table that used to sit in their kitchen. That had been years before college, back when home wasn't synonymous with hell. She can still picture Peter at their dining table, telling MJ about the Santa Maria Crater on Mars and spewing facts she'd never realised he knew.
Peter buys hot chocolate too, and MJ almost asks him if he remembers Christmas at her place, but the words never leave her head.
They sit down at the window, watching the Christmas lights come on as evening fades into night. They don't talk much now, but MJ doesn't feel desperate to fill the silence this time. She's content with staring out of the window or, when Peter isn't watching, staring at him.
"We should do this more often," Peter says suddenly.
And MJ nods. She'd like that. A lot.
It's nearly ten when they stop at Salt Lake City.
Peter books them into a rundown hotel off the highway. They get a single room with two beds because Peter insists that it's not safe for her to sleep in a different room.
She's already packed for this, with her toothbrush, pyjamas and a spare set of clothes neatly stuffed into her backpack. Peter's less prepared. They stand next to the trunk for an age, MJ holding up her phone with her flashlight on and Peter digging through his suitcase for his stuff.
They've been quieter this final stretch. Only speaking up when MJ has to give directions, or that one time they stopped to take in the view. Her Mum called about an hour ago to ask where they'd reached, and MJ sends another text now telling her parents that they've stopped for the night. That Peter's still with her. That they're safe.
They get to the room eventually. MJ takes the bathroom first, showering quickly. Peter's already changed into his pyjamas when she gets back. He's half-buried in his bed, squinting at his phone.
"May says hello," he says.
"Oh. Tell her I said hi."
"Done that." He looks up at her, grinning at MJ. "Was checking out the route for tomorrow. I think we should be able to make it across Nebraska by nightfall if we set out early enough. That way we can aim to be home by Thursday at the latest. If we push it, we could try for the day after too."
"Thursday's fine," she says, sitting down on her bed. Mum wants her home before Friday, and MJ's not particular about reaching before then. She'd rather delay her return as much as possible, to be honest. Though, MJ doubts Peter feels the same. "Do you miss home?" she asks quietly. "When we're at uni?"
"I miss May. Sometimes I hate that we chose Stanford, you know. It would have been nice being closer to home — just so that we could visit more often." He puts his phone to the side and rolls over so that he's facing her. MJ slides under her blanket, head propped up on her pillow starting right back at Peter.
"Do you miss home?" he asks her.
"Not a lot." Not nearly enough. "I guess home just wasn't a great place to be when we left."
"Do they still —?" Peter asks. "Do they still fight?"
"I don't know," she whispers. "I don't have the guts to ask Nate, but it's scary, you know? Every time they disagree or argue, I'm just that much more desperate to get away. Uni feels safer. Happier."
She's never admitted that part to anyone. MJ's mastered the art of whining about missing home every time Cindy and Betty go on about it. It's easier to pretend like everything's perfect when she's at Stanford. It's her safe bubble — the one place where her parents' arguments can't touch her. And even then, even outside uni, Peter's the only one who knows the truth.
He's the only one she's ever been able to talk to about any of it.
"You can visit us if you need a break," he says, reaching for the light and encasing them in darkness. "May still loves you. I think she hated when we didn't get to hang out last summer." And then, when MJ doesn't reply, he says: "Goodnight?"
"Goodnight," she whispers.
MJ doesn't fall asleep though.
She stays awake for what feels like an age, listening to Peter's quiet breathing and mulling over their day. MJ doesn't know why they gave up on being friends so easily — why she gave up so easily. It wouldn't have killed them to meet at night, or during the summer. Even when MJ had her internship and Peter spent two weeks with the Starks, they still had days when they could have met; when they could have hung out.
MJ wonders if she would have been different now if she'd stuck with Peter at uni. She doesn't know if she'd have bothered to get close to Cindy, Betty, and others given a choice.
Because, sure, she's got more friends now than she did at school. But Peter had been closer than anyone in her too-large group is now. Peter knows her in a way that none of her friends at Stanford ever will. She used to be able to talk to him about things she'd never bring up in front of Cindy or Betty or Abe. She misses that: their late-night conversations, their constant stream of texts. Everything.
"Peter?" she whispers.
"Yeah?" Peter mumbles, and he sounds half asleep.
"I've missed us."
"I've missed us too," he says, rolling over so that his back towards her.
MJ smiles into the darkness, sleep finally finding her.
Prompts Used in this Chapter:
C26. Hot chocolate (-ish)
C32. Cross-country road trip
C65. All bundled up
D33. "Why are you staring at me?" "Nothing… you just look really cute right now"
A reread of this chapter reminded me that it's just setting up the scene, but fear not for I will be posting every alternate day until Christmas-eve-eve (aka 23rd)
Why are they studying at Stanford, you ask? Well, I found out that Queens is basically on the East Coast and Stanford was as far as I could get within US. Though, if anyone ever builds a university in the ocean, I'd be the first to send Spideychelle there instead.
This was supposed to be a one-shot, and if you're following me on my Tumblr (FanfictioningFangirl) you probably witnessed me panicking when I realised that it was too long to be a one-shot. So now you've got four chapters instead!
Fair warning, I've barely edited this because life is busy and I really should be doing other things right now. I have never been to US, but I did attempt to plan their whole trip on Google Maps (including the McDonalds and the coffee shop they visit) but if there are any inaccuracies, you can always let me know here or on Tumblr
As always, thanks for reading!