*
PENIS PARKER!
Stifled, uproarious laughter in the hallway. A balled up piece of paper chucks in Peter's direction, hitting his shoulder. He simpers at the group of other boys, turning the corner and ducking his head. Peter's throat feels hot, clenching up tightly.
No matter what happens there's not much he can do. Midtown School of Science and Technology doesn't tolerate bullying, but rarely carries out punishment. It's bad enough that the administration has Peter on their shitlist for lobbying in favor of gender-neutral bathrooms and demanding their involvement when they refused to let him use the boys's restroom and changing rooms for gym. Even after court involvement and Aunt May's wrath. Even after getting on T for a whole year before the issue came up.
"Don't listen to Flash, alright?" Peter snaps out of his depression-blur, glancing to Michelle Jones approaching him. She's got jean overalls and her hair loosely gathered into a ponytail. Dark ringlets against her neck and cheek. "He's got repressed Daddy issues and a fear of his own existential inferiority masquerading as toilet humor and pseudo-confidence."
Peter offers a shy and pleasant smile.
"… You really read him, huh?"
"It's more like a flashing neon sign over his head. Can't miss it."
Awkward silence fills the gap between them.
MJ furrows her brows, looking down to her feet. "I'm trans," she admits. "Too."
"Really?" Peter says, wide-eyed. His forefinger and middle finger rubbing over his bookbag strap.
"My parents like to remind me that I was born in the hospital like a boy—whatever the hell that means—but I've never felt that way. They realized that pretty quickly." A bit of dandelion fluff clings to MJ's haltered, red tanktop. Another fluff above her hairline. He wonders vaguely if MJ feels as warm as she acts towards him sometimes. If she likes to hug like Peter likes to hug his friends and family. "I don't wanna look conventionally 'girly' attractive, but it can be nice. Just so strangers remember who I am."
A flustered, trembly laugh. "They got me on… uh, on delatestryl."
"Progesterones," MJ tells him. Her brownish-pink lips curling up. "Supposed to block out all of the testosterone."
Peter stares at her for a moment too obvious, not realizing he's already been infatuated by her long before this moment. Lovestruck even. She's been under the radar while Peter had been obsessing over Liz for nearly seven years since grade school, but… …
"Hey, do you wanna get some… I-I don't know, some coffee from the library or…?"
MJ raises an eyebrow. "You're so predictable," she drones, nudging him with an elbow. "It's a good thing you're easy on the eyes." And Peter has no idea she'll beat him at laser tag during round one, and that Peter will win at round two and three. Spidey senses.
He has no idea that MJ has already fallen for him, in her own way. Secretly, lingering in the background, not trying to be wishful.
Seven months pass.
November blows in with sloshy, gray snow and a bitter cold.
Peter's fingers unclasp MJ's plaid overcoat, and he thanks whatever deity that Aunt May is gone, letting MJ slip off his white tee and kissing over his faded surgical scars. She's got her own. The tang of pizza sauce and garlic and sausage hitting Peter's taste buds. There's bits of gold tinsel in MJ's hair. A cord of emerald and scarlet bulbs twinkling and wrapping around their ankles and feet, when they move around each other.
MJ kisses him, thoughtful and slow, and Peter doesn't want to open his eyes. He just wants to stay here. With her.
"I'm not…"
He ducks his head again, ashamed, sitting on the edge of his mattress. Legs crooked open.
Peter suppresses the urge to cover himself, and gazes in awe when his semi-amused girlfriend removes the rest of her leggings and underwear. He loves her slim, brown legs and arms and the way she looks good in everything. The lopsided tilt of MJ's grin. Her ocean breeze perfume.
Peter wants to drown in her, in her soft, dark eyes, in MJ's touch when she hugs him, saddling herself naked in Peter's lap.
"That doesn't matter to me, Pete…"
"You sure?"
"I believe me… when I say I will gag you if you don't shut up and fuck me, Parker," MJ says bluntly, low and murmurous. She pinches the area above Peter's left buttock, until he squeaks and apologizes, smiling gleefully into another open-mouthed kiss.
*