A Bad Idea (Spideychelle)

Ch. 4: Leave Me Lonely

MJ POV

I called Peter at seven, when dinner was ready.

"Hey," he answered after the first ring, "are you done dinner?"

"I am."

"Alright, I'm on my way up."

I didn't wanna hang up, so I kept talking. "So, I made three types of taco, one mildly spicy, one moderately spicy, and one that's pretty hot."

"Oh, so you wanna see how much I can get through?"

"If you make it through all three, I'll buy you lunch on Monday," I offered.

"Does that mean I have to buy you lunch on Monday if I can't make it through?"

"I didn't say that, you did."

He laughed. "Okay, it's a deal."

"So, I usually like burgers, chicken nuggets, maybe pizza-"

"Alright, Jones, you haven't won yet."

I laughed. "That's hard to believe."

There was a knock on my door, so I hung up, opening it to see Peter pocketing his phone.

"I might surprise you," he said.

He'd changed out of his sweats from last night and into jeans and a fresh t-shirt. It was weird, seeing him out of his school clothes. It was weird how attractive he was in casual stuff.

"Doubt it, Parker."

I let him into the apartment, and into the dining room (which was pretty much just a table shoved in the corner of the living room). I'd set out two plates, each with three tacos, some sour cream, some salsa, and a couple glasses of water.

"Wow. You really went all out."

"I don't play when it comes to food."

"Clearly."

We sat down.

"You're...amazing at presentation."

I laughed, kind of nervously, but I was hoping he didn't pick up on that. "Thanks, I tried way too hard."

We started to chow down. I'd made all of my tacos mild, because I didn't think a runny nose was a great way to seduce him. It was, however, funny to watch him cough and sniffle his way through dinner.

"You having fun there, Parker?" I asked when he was halfway through the second taco.

He nodded. "It's good, just...hot. Really hot."

"That's moderate spice," I pointed out helpfully.

He gave me an annoyed glare. "Thanks, MJ, that helps so much with my aggressively white taste buds."

I laughed. "It's good that you can acknowledge your aggressive whiteness."

"Hey, at least I'm a straight white boy who can recognize my privilege," he said, voice strained. He coughed a couple times, reaching for water.

I stifled laughter.

"Leave me alone, I'm trying my best."

"If this is your best, I'm glad all you do is intern for Stark Industries and not, say, build the Spider-Man suit."

Peter snorted. "Hey!"

I watched him suffer through to the end of the second taco, and then chug the rest of his water.

"I need a break."

I raised my eyebrows at him. "Already?"

"Shut up, I'm white."