Michelle threw her keys onto the counter, and didn’t even flinch when Peter slammed the door behind her. He was being especially annoying that day; he had refused to look at her during lunch, and when he did talk, it was only in sarcastic comments. Michelle had never wanted to punch him more.
Peter blew past her, and soon after that, his bedroom door slammed shut.
This had never happened before. Things between them were ‘old married couple’ levels of comfortable, without the fifty years of sexual interaction leading up to it. Peter could have his shirt off around her and Michelle ogled, yes, but she never felt the need to jump him. She could change in front of him, her back turned of course, but she knew he could spot some side-boob, and he was never weird about it. And Michelle would never question it when Peter would ask to sleep in her bed with her, because at night, Peter got anxious and had nightmares and he hated being alone. Michelle definitely didn’t care when she would feel his arms hug her tightly, and when his legs would mesh with her’s.
The only way to put it is that they almost had sex. Peter had the condom on, and Michelle had her legs adjusted just perfectly, and he was grasping onto all the right places. But, then the doorbell rang. She had kissed him, speaking against his lips, “Ignore it. It’ll go away.” It didn’t go away. In fact, the person started pounding, and then ringing the doorbell and pounding at the same time. So, Peter sent Michelle out while he ‘calmed down,’ and they never got the chance to continue. Ned Leeds had an urgent situation--he needed Michelle to go on a double date with him, Betty, and some random guy.
Why they were in that position was tricky. Peter was helping her finish her science work, and Michelle had noticed how his arms had gotten too big for his shirt and she just couldn’t stop staring. He had noticed where her eyeline led, and he teased her by saying, “I’ll just take my shirt off, will that make it better?” And, he did. Peter took his shirt off, and his breath was imposing her space, so he teased her more. He got closer, their noses grazing, and Michelle just went for it.
She hadn’t had sex in two months, and there was a fit and shirtless guy in her bedroom-- What was she supposed to do?
Anyways, as Ned pleaded for her to go on the double date, Peter stood in the corner with his arms crossed. He looked flustered, and stared at her unamusingly. If he had given her a sign, or just a simple head shake, or a, “MJ, I don’t think it’s safe to go on a date with a guy you hardly know,” Michelle wouldn’t have gone. But, because he didn’t even move, she went.
Now he was pissed at her.
She was over it.
Michelle stormed into his bedroom, accusing him before she even entered. “Are you mad at me because we didn’t have sex? Or because I went on the date with that guy?”
Peter, who was laying with a pillow over his head, shot straight up. He squinted his eyes at her and hissed, “No. I’m not mad at you, and I wouldn’t be mad at you for not-- not--”
“For not having sex with you,” she finished for him. “Just say it, Peter! Sex. We almost had sex. It’s an okay thing to say! We shouldn’t have to dance around it.”
“I am not mad at you for that. And I’m not mad at you for going on that date. I don’t own you, MJ. We’re roommates,” he deadpanned. “And you know what? I’m not even mad! Where did you get that idea?”
Michelle stood on her knees on his bed, close enough to him to jab her finger into his knee when she made a new point. “We haven’t had an actual conversation in seven days. You haven’t done your share of the cleaning, and when I tell you about it, you yell. You didn’t tell me that Star Wars was on the other night--”
“You hate Star Wars.”
“That’s not the point! The point is, that is our thing. We watch Star Wars together when it’s on, whenever it’s on, even if we have a shit ton to do. And you broke that code.”
Peter sat on his feet now. “Can you just drop it?”
“Nope,” she refused, “Tell me why you’re being so stingy. Is it because you made me moan, Peter? Or because I saw what you look like under that tight skin suit?” Michelle was being intentionally teasing, hoping it would make him snap. “Or--”
“Stop it. It’s just I-- I had never thought about you l-like that before that night. You were just my best friend, and now you’re, like, a woman. You have boobs and curves and I think about them all the time.” His face was reddening as his words fastened, and his eyes landed everywhere but her.
Oh. This wasn’t how Michelle had expected this conversation to go.
It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been thinking the same, though. Every time Peter turned off the shower she thought of water trickling down his core, and every time he murmured anything in her direction, she remembered what that felt like against her skin. And, god, if Michelle didn’t always consider what having him inside her must feel like, then she was just daft.
But, there was one part of that sentence she had a problem with.
“You never thought about me like that before?”
“No,” he blankly answered. “I mean, I wasn’t supposed to, right? You’re MJ, my best friend MJ, not a-- Well, of course I thought you were hot and stuff it’s just-- Did you ever think of me like that?”
“Of course I have.” Peter was obviously having troubles breathing, but she didn’t even hesitate. Michelle etched closer to him, her pissed off energy turning into something else. “Peter, you are this perfect figure.”
“I’m not.”
“But, you are. You sacrifice yourself and you are so vulnerable and strong at the same time and I had always wanted that in a…” She didn’t want to say boyfriend, so instead of finishing her sentence, Michelle cut herself off. She stared down into Peter’s eyes, communicating her sense of desire with just a look.
Peter got the message, and slowly moving up onto his knees, and they were now inches apart. “D-do you want to--” he had stuttered out.
Michelle nodded vigorously, and just like that it gave Peter confidence. He pulled on her thighs and fell backwards, Michelle landing on his lap just as he passionately kissed her. His hands caressed her legs, going underneath her shorts, and she twirled his hair around her fingers.
Peter flipped her over so that she was on her back. Easily, he tore his shirt off with one swift movement, and expectantly waited for her to do the same as he undid his belt. “Right,” Michelle murmured, in a trance of lust. She pulled up on her hemline and hooked her fingers under her bra, pulling it over her head to reveal her bare chest.
“I wanted to do that,” Peter teasingly whimpered. He tossed his belt into a random corner, and again, smashed his lips against her’s and leaned her backwards.
Peter kissed down her core, and she curved her back in pleasure when his mouth kissed one of her nipples, and massaged her other breast with one hand. With the free one, he unbuttoned and unzipped her shorts, and pulled them down with ease.
“It’s Thursday,” he stated, coming back up to her lips.
“What?”
“Thursday. You’re wearing Monday.”
Michelle was wearing Days of the Week underpants.
She didn’t think she was going to be having sex, okay?
And then she remembered something she had read in a book, something she thought had sounded hot. “Then take them off so I can get the right pair.”
And it wasn’t hot, not at all, but after Peter let out a small giggle, he did as he was told. Actually, he tore them in half, but to his defense-- there was a small divot in the top of them, and Peter wasn’t taking into consider his own strength.
“Mondays suck anyways,” he huffed.
He pulled away, leaving Michelle completely naked on the bed, and shimmied out of his pants and underwear. Peter opened a drawer and took out a condom, and rolled it on. Then, he slammed back onto the bed and crashed his lips against her’s. His fingers played with her front, just massaging back and forth in the same slow speed their kissing was in. Her legs rested on his back, and her hands directed where his should go.
When Peter hit the right spot, Michelle moaned into his mouth and instinctively pulled his body closer. He, soon after, put his forearms so they were resting on either side of her head, and looked at her for validation. With a little tilt of his head and everything.
Michelle told him yes with another kiss.
Peter slowly started, and even when he was fully in, he didn’t pick up speed. He took his time; something that not even Michelle’s past boyfriends had ever did. Peter cared, obviously, and with every gentle thrust she knew.
However, she wanted more. So, she’d roll her hips and direct his body to go faster just by pushing him with her legs. When he finally got the message, and she stopped her movements, Peter whispered, “Keep doing that. MJ-- Keep doing it.” He buried his head into the crook of her neck and kept his hands on Michelle’s waist, gasping when she started up again.
Peter kissed one spot of her neck repeatedly, salivating everywhere, and Michelle realized she’d have to show up with a hickey at work the next day. But, as her fingers were creating divots in his back, she knew he’d have numerous amounts of scratches.
Her breathing hitched as he kissed her. Peter moved faster, his tongue exploring every corner of Michelle’s mouth as he exposed all her nerves down below. He immersed himself inside of her, and with two final thrusts, he euphorically groaned.
He slumped his body against her’s, but she was so close. So, Michelle spun them over, and she was now on top. Peter’s hands grasped onto her bottom as she placed her own on his chest, propping herself up into the perfect position. Michelle had only straddled him for twenty seconds before she climaxed; her back arched, her body tingles and then exploded, and she could hardly breath.
Peter moved her off of him so he could spoon her. He kissed her shoulder blade and down her arm halfway, and contently whispered into her ear, “We should do that more often.”
She secured his hand at her middle. “We should,” Michelle repeated. “Like, every day.”