Mixed POV
MJ'S POV
The sound of Peter snoring softly in her ear was what woke Michelle up the following morning. She couldn't remember falling asleep, but she felt better rested than she had in a while as she blinked her eyes open.
Michelle and Peter are facing each other, their arms around each other's waists with his head slightly tucked under hers; his warm breath skating across her shoulders. She considers pulling away, but she allows herself a few moments to simply relax as her mind begins to filter through the disaster that was yesterday. She expected to feel embarrassed about how emotional she had been, but the feeling never arose. She expected to feel anger towards her mother and David but even as it stirred awake in her chest, it did not feel overly overwhelming. She knew she'd have to get up and face the problems of the day soon, but she awarded herself a few moments to breath and just be.
Peter's snoring began to give way to shallow breathing as he began to stir awake. He let out a groan as he awoke, pulling away from her as he yawned and rubbed his eyes. Michelle chose just to watch him.
"Morning," his voice cracked from the night of rest as his head hit the pillow beside hers again.
"Morning," she returned softly before deciding to sit up.
Her hair was a mess. Usually, she ties it back before going to sleep but she didn't have the foresight last night. Her fingers absentmindedly beginning to untangle it as she peered around the apartment.
Last night she was a little too distracted to take in her surroundings properly, but the morning light enabled her to appraise the room thoughtfully.
She did not know much about Mrs Parker, but it made sense that she would be artistic. The walls were covered in a mix of photographs and different works of art including paintings and sketches. She noted a basket full of yarn and the corresponding knitting needles beside the TV and looked at the coffee table which was obviously hand-painted. On one of the legs, she spied two handprints, each signed with a name. The larger was May's. The smaller was Peter's. It must have been made a few years ago.
Her eyes were pulled back to Peter who was continually yawning.
"Did you sleep at all," her nose wrinkled. "What's wrong with you?"
"Sorry," he said bashfully as he also sat up, raking his fingers through his tousled hair like she was doing to hers. "I'm always a mess in the morning."
She wanted to say something snarky, but she was stopped when Peter hesitantly reached a hand towards her face.
"What are you doing?" she demanded, but he didn't move his hand. Instead, he leant forward to pluck something from her hair. She looked down to find some fluff and giggled. "I'm always getting shit stuck in my hair."
"I wonder why," he grinned at her, appraising her messy hair. "It's like a bird took up residence in there."
"Shut up," she shoved him a little but he just shrugged.
"I like it though."
She rolled her eyes, but her chest felt a little warmer and she gave him a short smile, not quite meeting his eyes.
"Thanks, Parker. You're on your own in that opinion."
She was suddenly aware of how close they were. They were both sitting up, facing each other. His knees were just about touch her own and thanks to his hair plucking, his hands pressed into the mattress on either side of her legs.
Holy shit.
He appeared to come to the same realisation as she did, warmth beginning to flush up his neck, turning his usual parlour into a rouge one. She fully expected him to pull away, but he didn't. He maintained eye contact with her, and she was determined not to be the first to break it. She was brave.
When his eyes flickered down to her lips, her breath caught in her throat for a moment. She found herself struggling to take in a breath, but it wasn't as unwelcome as it was last night. It was a good breathlessness.
Peter appeared to gulp as he began to slowly lean forward, so slow in fact that she was beginning to get frustrated. She knew he was waiting for her to pull away, and perhaps she should have, but she didn't want to. A smile began to skate the corners of his lips as his face hovered just before her own. Her eyes flickered shut as she felt his breath caress her own lips.
They were so close.
The sound of Mrs Parker door opening had them scattering apart. Peter skittered so far backwards that he fell off the couch and Michelle slumped back into the mattress, trying to stifle her laughter and to calm the heavy beating of her heart.
Damn it.
Mrs Parker moved into the kitchen, pausing momentarily at the sight of Peter sitting on the floor before shrugging and moving towards the kettle.
"Thank gods it's a Saturday, am I right?"
Both Peter and Michelle stumbled over their agreements, not quite meeting each other's eyes.
"Heck," MJ thought to herself. "Shit is about to be awkward."
Peter's POV
They ate breakfast with Aunt May, chatting about things that he couldn't entirely focus on. He kept his eyes on his scrambled eggs on toast, the table or literally anything to keep himself from looking at Michelle.
He was embarrassed. He really wanted to kiss her. He still did. He was sort of mad at May for interrupting even though she couldn't possibly know.
What sent his heart racing though was the knowledge that MJ wanted him to. He deliberately kept his movement slow, fully prepared for her to slap him and tell him to fuck off. But she didn't. She practically dared him to do it.
"Peter!" May's voice broke through his thoughts and he looked up to see her smiling softly.
"Sorry," he mumbled, face heating with embarrassment. "Distracted."
"I was just saying I'm going out to see Mrs Ballrant and was wondering if you needed me to pick up anything on the way home."
Peter thought for a moment as he moved his toast back and forth, trying not to notice that MJ was watching him before shaking his head.
"I got nothing."
"No worries," she stood from the table, patting his shoulder as she walked past. "I'll bring back some takeout for dinner. Michelle is staying another night."
"Oh?" that got his attention. Damn it. He must have been in a deep trance to have missed that part of the conversation.
Both Aunt May and Michelle laughed at him and May moved back to her bedroom to get ready for her outing. Her sudden absence filled him with jitters and his leg began to bounce under the table.
"I don't have to stay again."
He looked up at Michelle who sat across from him, chewing on her lip as she looked down at her food.
"I want- I'd like-" Damn it! Where were the words? "Of course you should stay again."
She smiled up at him, her eyes meeting his.
"Thanks, Parker."
His mind began to conjure up all sorts of fantasies; reaching out across the table and pulling her to him. Pulling her back to his bedroom to kiss her there. He thought about all the ways to kiss her and her smile turned wicked as his leg bouncing increased.
"Are you nervous, Parker?"
"Nope," he tried to sound nonchalant but his voice broke and he dropped his head into his hands. "Fuck."
"I have a favour," she told him as she collected his plate and moved for the kitchen. Like a tether linked them, he followed her. "Can we just relax today? I know I've got to face all this home drama but I can't and don't want to. I know that makes it sound like I'm running, but I'll do it. Just not now."
"I think that's a good idea," he reassured her as he dried the plates she began to wash. "What would you like to do instead?"
She pulled herself onto the counter beside him, legs swinging as she thought for a moment. Peter had to look away because she looked so pretty. God damn it his thoughts were out of control this morning.
"Can I take you to my favourite book shop?" she asked. "It's like my happy place. I think you may like it."
"I'd love that," he told her, putting the last plate away and leaning against the bench beside her. "Anything else?"
He looked up at her, appreciating the way her eyebrows furrowed like they always did when she was thinking before smoothing out.
"I was wondering if I could go on patrol with you," her voice was soft and her eyes met his. "I mean... Only if that's okay with you."
"I don't think that's safe," he stepped away. He wanted to say yes but he knew it would be unwise. "I mean, sometimes it's easy stuff but other times it can be dangerous."
She tilted her head at him, mouth forming a solid line in displeasure.
"Are you saying I can't protect myself?"
Her voice was low and menacing and he stepped backwards instinctively, falling into the fridge before righting himself.
"Umm no that's not what I meant at all!"
She glared at him and he began to panic before she grinned.
"I'm just messing with you," she told him and he threw the tea towel at her.
"You suck," he grimaced.
"You like it," she replied, and he realised that what they were doing was 100% almost assuredly flirting. He didn't have to dwell on it because May appeared again, reinforcing her status as their personal chauffeur.
Aunt May hugged both of them tightly, assuring Michelle again that she was more than welcome to stay before bustling out the door with a final,
"Be good! Be safe!"
When the door slammed shut, they were left in the kitchen, staring after her. Michelle still sat on the bench. He still leant against the fridge.
The sudden silence hit him like a loading truck and he glanced up at Michelle to see her watching him as well.
Be brave. Be brave. Be brave.
Taking a deep breath, he maintained eye contact as he moved forward until they were almost eye to eye. Her swinging legs skated his own but he was determined to focus.
"I-" his voice broke again but he was determined. "I have an idea of how else we can spend the day."
"And how is that Peter?" her eyes flickered to his lips before back to his eyes and the image of her cheeks burning red would be the source of his daydreams for the coming weeks.
"Like this," he whispered.
And then he leant forward, fuelled by the knowledge that she wanted this too. Her hand landed on his chest as he reached to cup the back of her neck.
Mentally patting himself on the back for trying so hard, he smiled to himself as his lips pressed assuredly into hers.