Through the Window | Peter x Mj

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There are a lot of ways to wake up in the mornings. The sun being too bright, an annoying alarm, annoying sibling, the urge to pee, annoying significant other and etcetera. In Michelle's case, it's the annoying significant other. She doesn't want to be awake yet. They were up late exploring a new rather physical aspect of their relationship, there's no school today, and she's grumbling the second her brain registers being pulled across the mattress.

It doesn't matter that he's warm or pressing a kiss to her temple, that his bare skin feels glorious against hers in the burn of sunlight peeking through the curtains. It's too damn early to have her eyes open. She refuses and buries her face against his shoulder. Until his palm smooths up her back, fingers slow and lazy and she might shift a little closer and consider opening one eye.

"Someone's handsy." MJ wraps an arm around his waist. She might be talking, mumbling sleepily but it doesn't mean she's a fan of being awake.

"Hey."

"Shhh, I'm trying to sleep." If he wasn't so cute, if the rumble of his laugh didn't wipe her thoughts of all intelligence, she might just roll over and ignore him. But he is cute and her thoughts are wildly racing. "Why are we awake?"

"Just thinking about stuff." The hand he's been trailing along her spine comes to a stop at the base of her neck. Fuck. His words make her stomach sink just a little.

Maybe he wasn't ready. Maybe he's about to tell her they shouldn't have taken such a big step and for some reason, that has her eyes opening and her heart aching more than her worn out muscles. Maybe he didn't like it. Maybe she isn't good at this. Maybe it was too awkward. But she loves that it was.

She loves that it was a little weird, a lot awkward and completely new. She loves that he stumbled, didn't know what to say, where to put his hands because she didn't either. She loves that they both took their time, learning what they like, what they don't through cautious hands, blushing, and stuttering.

     She adores the look he gave her when he asked if she was okay before he ever went any further. Both times. He can't take it back or her heart is going to shatter into pieces and she's going to have to pretend everything is fine. MJ must not be hiding it as well as she thought, her eyes are beginning to sting and his hand moves around to clear the wild strands of hair covering her cheek.

"You okay?" It's the same thing he asked last night, the same soft tone laced with concern for her wellbeing.

"Y-yeah." She doesn't believe it any more than he does when he turns on his side and rests his palm on her face.

"What's wrong?" Of course he knows. He always knows too much. "If you didn't...like it, we don't have to-"

"No! No, I did. I thought maybe you have regrets?"

"No. None. At all." They probably should have talked that out before falling asleep, definitely before going in for round two but her chest feels lighter, the sting and burn lessens. "I was thinking about something May told me and couldn't fall back asleep."

Michelle reaches for his wrist, wraps her fingers around to feel his pulse beat steady. She's seventeen years old and this stupid boy has her heart soaring in a way that makes her hope he stays forever. She loves him. The dorky smile, the dumb pun shirts, the way he gets so excited talking about Star Wars. The hero complex, how big his heart his, the way he drops the guard with her and she gets to see the trauma, the ugly underbelly when he clings to her after a nightmare.

It doesn't scare her when he's raw and aching those nights. She's calm when he squeezes her a little too tight and she has to remind him that he has super strength. He's always quick to lighten his hold, to apologize, and she loves every bit of it. Every bit of him.