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 4: christmas day (an epilogue)
There are a dozen texts from Peter when MJ wakes up. There have been every day since they came back, and it puts a smile on her face before she even gets out of bed. Today is extra special though.
She's giddy all through breakfast, and it has little to do with the boxes of gifts sitting under the tree. She got back to Queens yesterday afternoon, and Peter got back home last night.
It's been a week since they were last in the same town, and that isn't much in the grand scheme of things, but somehow, it still feels like too long. Sure, she texted Peter constantly, and they'd call most nights, talking about anything and everything. But it'll be different being together again. It'll be better.
MJ has spent the better part of her week thinking over and over again of their trip back to Queens. Her cheeks still go warm when she thinks of the first night he'd curled up against her, and her heart yearns to kiss him again and again and again. MJ absolutely hates that she had to leave for Manhattan the day after they got back and she's more than determined to make the most of it now.
The morning seems to drag out endlessly. Her Mom refuses to let MJ leave until home well after lunch, and though she's more annoyed than giddy by then, she's practically on the verge of exploding when she texts Peter at three.
'The park near Midtown,' he writes back seconds after MJ texts him. She's out before her Mom gets to tell MJ to stay back home.
Peter's waiting for her across the road, hands in his pockets and all bundled up.
She's beaming the moment she spots him; her smile refusing to vanish even when she tries desperately to push it back. He looks up, just as she's crossing, and MJ swears it feels like the world stops.
Like, for a moment, it's just the two of them.
Then a car honks loudly, and MJ jogs off the road stopping right in front of him, more than aware of the deafening way in which her heart is beating and of how she just cannot seem to stop smiling at him.
"Hey," she says, sounding out of breath.
"Hey you," Peter says, and he pulls her into a quick, too-short hug. "Merry Christmas."
"Happy Random Friday."
He chuckles, and for a moment, just a moment, MJ swear it feels awkward.
MJ's spent so much of her time thinking about their trip — about Peter . She's dreamt about the way his hands feel on her, of the way his lips tasted, and the scent of his cologne. She's dreamt about today more times than she dares to admit out loud, and being here right now feels almost unreal. It's overwhelming, for a moment, to be back with him.
Peter opens his mouth like he's about to say something, then he shakes his head, turning away from her abruptly. They start walking.
"Mum sent hot chocolate," MJ says, holding out a thermos. "She insisted the moment I said I was meeting you. Something about missing you, I think."
"You think?" Peter scoffs. "She definitely misses me."
"Oh shut up," MJ says, and she shoves him playfully. "She wants you to come over for dinner someday. Though, she hates that I left home to meet you today."
Peter gives her a side-ways look, and something about it makes her stomach knot uncomfortably and, simultaneously, makes her heart soar. She stops walking.
Peter stops too.
She's suddenly aware of the fact that they're not holding hands. That they were always holding hands when they stopped on the drive home, especially on the last day.
"Last week sucked," she says.
"Why? Did you miss me?" There's a playful edge in his voice, and MJ rolls her eyes at him just for the sake of it.
"No," she says. "I missed your car, actually. Mom refused to play any music. It was just straight-up podcasts that we couldn't even hear because of how low she keeps the volume. And apparently, you're not supposed to stop every few miles just because everything around you is pretty."
"So you missed my music?" Peter asks, and this time, MJ wraps an arm around his waist, tugging Peter closer. If only because it feels odd that they're not holding hands right now. (And because holding hands doesn't feel like enough.)
"Yes."
He wraps his arms around her too.
"And my driving?"
She looks at him, and even though she knows they're half hugging, MJ's surprised by how close he is. She can feel his breath tickling her skin each time he talks, and it's making her heart go wild. It takes an effort to keep her voice level when she replies.
"Your ability to stop driving when there's a view. Yes."
"And my car?"
MJ narrows her eyes at him. "Sure," she says.
"Well, I'm afraid we're a package deal. All of the above and, well, me." He sounds proud when he says it. He's grinning at her like an idiot, and it takes MJ a second to realise that she's staring at his lips. Her gaze darts up, meeting his. Peter seems to understand exactly what she wants to do because he leans forward and kisses her — half on her mouth, half on her cheek, and MJ giggles against him.
"Dork," she mutters as Peter tries again, the thermos pressed against her back, his other hand on her arm, pulling her flush against him. His lips are soft when they find her this time. Soft and gentle, and she's dimly aware of how warm Peter is despite the cold.
She doesn't want to let go, MJ decides. Both now and in general.
"Want to come over?" he whispers.
"Tomorrow," MJ says. Tomorrow, and day after and the day after that if he'll have her. She pulls away, resting her head on Peter's shoulder, nose pressed against his neck. "Mum will want me at home today."
"Right. Of course."
She doesn't move. Peter doesn't move either. He's still holding her arm, his other hand on her back. She feels him rest his head on top of hers, and MJ smiles. She doesn't want to move.
Somewhere, from one of the pockets in her jacket, her phone buzzes and MJ swears under her breath. It's her Mom.
"I should—"
"Yeah," Peter whispers. "You should."
"Tomorrow," she promises, and this time she takes a step back, instantly missing Peter's touch.
She hasn't looked away yet. Hasn't taken a second step. Suddenly, something in MJ snaps, and all at once, Peter's holding onto her and he's kissing her again. Gentle at first, and then with an intensity that makes her cling onto him. Her hands find his neck, her fingers threading through his short hair. For a moment, it feels like Peter's the only real thing in the world. Like he's the only one who matters.
"Tomorrow," he echoes, and MJ nods.
Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.
This time, she gets two steps away. Then three. Then four. She glances over her shoulder, and Peter's walking away from her at snail's pace.
"Oy, Peter?" He turns so quickly MJ's surprised he doesn't lose his balance. "How are you going back to Stanford?"
He grins. "I don't know," he says, and MJ can tell he's trying to say it innocently. She already knows what's coming next. (What she's made him think of just by asking about their journey back.)
"What would you say if I offered to drive us down?"
She says yes.
Obviously.
Prompts Used In This Chapter:
C62. Home for the Holidays
C63. Christmas morning
D59. "Merry Christmas."
And we're done! I won't lie, chapter 2 is my favourite out of the lot, but I like the ending too! I know this chapter is short - I'm honestly surprised chapter 3 wasn't shorter, but we're officially done and I can finally hibernate now!
I wrote this fic in a single sitting and was mortified, to say the least, when I saw the word count. It's gone from what should have been a short, 2k word fic to something much longer.
As always, thanks for reading and if you've stuck around and read through four chapters of my nonsense, then thanks a lot.
Happy Holidays, and I hope all of you have a great New Year! (I hope we get to go out in 2021. Or, at least meet people from The Outside.) I probably won't post anything else till 2021 but you can always find me on Tumblr at FanfictioningFangirl !