Through the Window | Peter x Mj

Between Us

It's weird to think about life sometimes, to realize how a certain thing wouldn't be a thing at all if a specific moment hadn't happened. Choices set off chain reactions, shape people into who they are. She's never really thought too deeply about the way of the universe. Michelle's logical, rational, and believing things just work out how they're supposed to isn't logical at all. She sticks to facts, things she can explain with evidence.

Life hasn't always been kind. It never is. Everyone has shit they have to deal with, things they have to overcome or crawl their way out of. Maybe that's just the way of the universe. She wouldn't know, nobody would. Maybe it's the cold medicine making her overthink it. Or the throbbing at the base of her skull.

However, she knows she wouldn't be on Peter Parker's couch nursing a cold in her pajamas on a Saturday morning if he hadn't knocked on her window seeking solace. They might have made it here eventually but that moment sparked the chain of events that led to the soles of her socked feet pressing to his thigh.

It led to the way he sits with his arm draped over the knees she's resting her sketch pad on as he asks a plethora of questions about drawing techniques, various mediums of art, and if she's ever considered selling her work. She hasn't. It led to them being comfortable, being together. To soft kisses, lingering touch.

So perhaps, there's something to the whole line about fate, about things working out but she's absolutely not about to believe it has nothing to do with all the choices - the evidence - they made to get here. For now, she sits with her back to the arm of the couch, studies the curve of his jaw as if she doesn't already have it memorized and smirks. It's fun to sketch him when he's fully aware of it.

"Are you sure this is my good side?"

"You don't have a bad side, hush."

"Good to know." He's teasing, lips curving in a sly smile. "You don't either."

He curls his fingers around her knee, rubbing his thumb over her skin in a way she tries to tell herself isn't distracting. It is distracting. She might be thinking of forgetting the sketch altogether to take advantage of being alone with him. Cold be damned, they can share germs. Not like she wasn't burrowed against his side and drooling on his shoulder this morning.

He shifts a little closer, smile still beaming on his face. Michelle pushes her toes into his thigh, sniffling in a way she knows is so not attractive. Her heart still does that stupid thing it does when he looks at her, when his gaze is bright, untroubled. He's relaxed and she's feeling better than she has since the mess with her dad started. It's enough.

"If you'd sit still for five minutes I'd finish this a lot faster."

"We've been sitting forever." It's been half an hour and he's the one who asked to do this.

"You insisted."

"I take it back. You're sick." He leans over, the arm resting on her leg moves. "We can be lazy."

The fingers he's been rubbing over her knee are suddenly tucking her hair behind her ear and MJ bites her lip to hide the smile threatening to take over. The sketch loses her attention, the shading beneath his eye becomes unimportant the moment his thumb rubs over her jaw.

"Peter," she feigns exasperation. "I can't finish this if you don't sit still and keep your hands to yourself."

"We both know that's a lie. You have other sketches of me and I didn't pose for any of those." If they weren't dating, she might be embarrassed he knows that. Her face still feels warm.