Spideychelle one-shots

Lonely

Peter wasn't sure when it had happened; all he knew was that something had changed between him and MJ.

He caught himself staring at her in History. The way she tucked her hair behind her ear and bit her lip when she was concentrating mesmerized him.

They were partnered up for a Socials project, and he could've sworn he saw her smile when their names were called together.

And then she invited him over to her house to work on their project, a slideshow on the social/economic effects of WWI in Europe.

Peter couldn't say that he'd spent a long time imagining what her bedroom looked like, but when he first saw it, it was so undeniably MJ that he felt like he'd seen it before.

Crammed with bookshelves, teetering stacks of books wedged in beside them. A big, comfy bed, with lots of blankets. There was a window seat piled with pillows in one wall and he could already imagine her curled up there with a cup of tea on a rainy day, blanket wrapped around her feet, her favourite book in her hands.

Her room was neat and tidy and chaotic all at once, posters on the walls and music playing softly and her desk was littered with art supplies and half-finished crafts.

She stepped up behind him, tugging on the sleeve of his coat. "You're all wet," she said, motioning for him to take it off.

"Oh, yeah. I decided to walk here."

"In this weather? Really, Parker?" she said, teasing, and they both looked to the window, watching the wind and rain lash the glass.

"Uh, yeah," he said nervously, tugging at his sleeves. "I guess I wasn't thinking."

"Nothing new there," she said, but she smiled to take the sting out of it, stepping forward to take his coat from his hands and hang it on the back of her bedroom door.

Maybe he was just imagining it. Maybe she hadn't blushed a little more, smiled a little brighter, as she took a step towards him. And maybe, when their hands brushed, she hadn't felt the heat, the electric shock that traveled up his arm. But he had.

And he knew he wasn't imagining the butterflies in his stomach. Because, for some reason, this felt different. And he didn't exactly know why.

All he knew was that his hands were shaking and he couldn't stand still, so he occupied himself with looking at the posters on her walls as she moved a stack of books off of a chair so he could sit down.  He fumbled with his backpack, pulling the zipper down and grabbing the assigment outline and a pencil.

MJ was fiddling with her phone, turning up the music slightly and switching the playlist. Peter watched her tuck her hair behind her ear, eyebrows furrowed as she sat down on her bed. He started, realizing that he should probably be working. They had assigned some tasks for the other to work on in class, so Peter started researching, knowing that they had limited time. Winter break was in a week, and their teacher wanted the projects ready to present by then.

Hours later, and Peter felt like his eyes were full of sand. He couldn't help yawning, leaning his head against his knees for a moment. He had gradually made his way to the floor, leaning against the wall of MJ's bedroom wall with his knees drawn up. He rubbed his face tiredly, before attempting to get back into a truly tortuous paper that he had been lost in for the past half an hour. He still hadn't made it past the first page.

He glanced up at MJ, realizing that he hadn't heard anything from her in a while. His breath caught as he saw her, sprawled out on her bed, fast asleep. Her even breaths stirred the curls that had fallen over her face, and he had to physically resist the urge to tuck them behind her ear. He stood up, and softly moved to sit beside her, making sure that he didn't wake her up. She stirred slightly, adjusting her position before slipping back into sleep.

He smiled, grabbing a blanket and carefully drawing it up over her shoulders. He took her phone from her hands and set it on her bedside table, plugging it in. Stuffing his papers into his backpack, he slung it over his shoulder, steathily tiptoeing towards the door. He glanced once more at her, freezing when his foot met a creaky floorboard.

MJ blinked slowly, yawning and pulling her hand out from under her head. She looks at him, still half asleep, and suddenly Peter can imagine what it would be like to wake up with her, to feel the warm weight of her in his arms, to see her eyes-god, her eyes.

Suddenly, almost as if she'd registering who she's looking at, her face curves into a soft smile, and she reaches out, making soft grabby motions with her hands. Peter walks over to her bed, still a little in awe about seeing this side of MJ. The side where all her walls are down.

"Hey," he says softly. "I was just about to leave. I'm sorry I woke you."

She shakes her head, levering herself up a little. "Stay? Please?"

She sees the hesitation on his face. "I-I just don't want to be alone. Not tonight."

Peter understands. He knows the feeling of being utterly alone, wanting nothing more than a person beside you. He's not sure why she's chosen him or what it means, but he can't say no to her. Not when she's looking at him like that, with longing in her eyes. So he puts down his bag and sits on the bed, even though he knows this will change everything. Even though he knows that there will be no going back after this, that their friendship will always be different. But at that moment, he doesn't care. Because he wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around her.

She bites her lip, watching him slip off his heavy hoodie, and she holds up the edge of the covers for him. She scootches back, so that her head will actually will be on the pillow, and watches with nervous eyes as he lays down beside her.

She turns off the light, and suddenly the room is bathed in darkness. Peter can feel her breathing, can feel her shifting closer to him. So he shouldn't be startled when she slips an arm around his waist, burying her face in his chest. But he is, and takes him a moment before he wraps his arms around her, pulling her closer, nuzzling his face into the crook of her shoulder. She lets out a little sigh of contentment, and in that moment Peter's afraid that his heart might burst. Because, in that moment, he loves her so much he doesn't know what to do.

But it's just that moment, and anyway, she's in his arms and he's falling asleep, not entirely sure he isn't dreaming as he drifts off.

So Peter isn't sure what happened; the only thing he does know is that he has the girl he loves asleep in his arms, and that, finally, he doesn't feel alone anymore.