Finding the Way Home

Chapter 5

It wasn't even noon and Peter was more bored than he could ever remember being. Michelle was camped out on their couch, her laptop open and her focus so narrowed that she didn't notice the seven times he walked past her, just hoping for a brief conversation to rescue him from his boredom. Hours later and she was still reading through potential interview questions, muttering her responses under her breath.

He was just about to test the full extent of his webbing―was it strong enough to hang their bed from the ceiling, or was the ceiling too weak?―when Michelle's muttering stopped and he heard her close her laptop.

Without blinking, he darted around their makeshift wall as she stood up from the sofa to stretch.

"Is it lunchtime?" he asked eagerly. "Are you done? Is this a break?"

Michelle laughed, but he saw her nod and all thoughts about hanging their bed from the ceiling like a large swing left his mind.

"I'm all yours," she told him teasingly, throwing her arms out to her sides in what Peter assumed was a dramatic effect.

With an excited yelp, he scooped her up into his arms and dragged them both over to the door. He wasn't sure how long Michelle would allow him to distract her, but he was going to take all that he could get. If he got lucky, she'd agree to go out for lunch, they'd lose track of time, and he'd get to spend the rest of the afternoon with her.

"I was thinking pizza," Peter said, tugging on his shoes. "There's that place on the corner we haven't been to, but I also texted Pepper for ideas and she suggested this Turkish place near Times Square which, I know you hate going down there, but it sounded really good and―"

Michelle cut him off with both a laugh and a press of her fingers to his lips.

"Turkish in Times Square sounds good," she said and suddenly, it was all Peter could do not to scoop her back up in his arms and sprint out of the apartment. "I'm giving you all afternoon, loser."

Peter let out a whoop, pumping a fist above his head and impatiently waiting for Michelle to slip on her shoes. As soon as she stood up, he grabbed her hand and tried not to sprint to the elevator. Michelle laughed, trailing behind him and pressing a kiss to his cheek when he tapped his foot in the elevator.

"Should we find a park on the way?" she teased, wrapping her arm around his.

"I'm not a dog, MJ," Peter said with a roll of his eyes.

The elevator doors opened and Peter was back to dragging Michelle behind him, too eager to finally do something.

"I know." Michelle smirked. "A dog would be easier to walk with."

With a groan, Peter slowed his pace so Michelle was beside him and no longer being tugged along behind him.

Although the initial burst of energy was a bit overwhelming, Peter did manage to calm down by the time they hopped into a subway car. With Michelle pressed against his side, Peter was content to murmur all the ideas he'd come up with while Michelle had studied for her interview. He hadn't quite made it to his hanging bed idea when they reached their stop and pushed their way out of the stuffy subway car.

"You really can't be left alone, huh?" Michelle mused, turning an amused smirk on him as they exited the subway station.

Peter was immediately reminded why they didn't visit Times Square.

Even before the spider bite, Times Square had been an overwhelming sight. With billboards and tourists and taxis everywhere, Peter―like every other native New Yorker―tended to avoid it.

Michelle stepped closer to him, her hand firmly in his and her other hand curled around his forearm as they were pushed and jostled through the crowd.

"I forgot it was still tourist season," Michelle muttered, only for him to hear. "Your Turkish place better be close."