Work Text:
uhhplease come pckn us up.!!!!!!!!!!!!
guy in the chair; [ 10: 13 PM ]
check ur grammar first then we’ll talk :)
MJ; [ 10: 15 PM ]
p lease pick us up!! flash’s place becaus th party!!
guy in the chair; [ 10: 17 PM ]
somone uhhh
guy in the chair; [ 10: 18 PM ]
someone spiked the punch?
MJ; [ 10: 18 PM ]
mayB
guy in the chair; [ 10: 19 PM ]
sit tight and don’t throw up
MJ; [ 10: 19 PM ]
The main reason she’s going is because Peter Parker is not only a Starts Out Hyper But Slowly Begins To Lose His Energy drunk, but also an Honest one. He’s only gotten drunk once before-- at an end of the year party at some rando’s house-- but Michelle learned two other things at that party. One, Peter was a lightweight, and two, once he kicked a dog because he thought it was a soccer ball and although the dog was fine and wasn’t hurt he still feels really guilty (essentially, she learned that he had a guilt complex the size of canada).
Sprinkle in a life-threatening, spider-sized secret that could send lots of dangerous people his way, and that would result in nothing but a shitty night.
Michelle immediately regrets her decision to skip out on a perfect night alone when she opens the door to Flash’s house, immediately hit with the stench of vomit and alcohol. She is about to turn around leave when she realizes that Ned borrowed her jacket for this party and if he throws up on it it’ll be her fault for not getting it back and them out of there.
What sucks, though, is that she’s been in there for maybe three minutes, and she’s already 90% sure that she is the most sober person in the entire place.
She starts regretting her decision when she realizes that being the most sober person in the room also meant that everyone else was drunk. More specifically, it meant that her two closest friends were also very inebriated, or getting there, in Ned’s case.
Peter, though, was completely trashed .
He’s standing on a table trying to do the can-can with a girl that looks older than highschool age by the time Michelle finds them. Ned’s standing nearby, talking animatedly to Betty Brant about something that he seems to be really into. He doesn’t look as bad as Peter, who’s red-faced and bouncing off the walls, but he’s still under the influence and if the boys are idiots sober then Michelle has no idea what kind of trouble they can get into drunk.
At least Ned was able to send her a text before they inevitably threw up all over each other.
She decides to go to Peter first, since he looks like he’s about to throw himself into the sea of people that have started crowding the table. She pushes past them while cursing under her breath, her nose wrinkling as fifty kids drinking beer breathe into her face (that smell really is the worst, especially with teenagers who haven’t brushed their teeth for a month).
“Peter!” She shouts over the music, ducking as his leg manages to barely miss her face. “Peter, get down!”
He doesn’t seem to hear her, and just keeps on dancing around, jumping along to the music as yet another person climbs up on the table with him. Rolling her eyes, Michelle grabs his ankle right as he’s about to jump up again and miraculously he doesn’t fall (well, he is Spiderman) and instead looks down at her with a dopey smile. “Michelle! Heyyyy!”
“Down.” She orders, letting her death grip on his ankle loosen until she finally lets go.
With a huff and an apologetic smile at the other two on the table, Peter jumps off and into Michelle’s arms. He wraps his arms around her neck and tucks his face into her neck. “Hey,” he mutters into her ear. “Did you see my dance?”
What the fuck?
Michelle swallows awkwardly and slowly pushes him away. Yeah, she did not expect that. “Uh, yeah?” She answers and points to the two who had been left at the table. “Who are they?”
He shrugs, his smile not disappearing. “I have noooo idea, but they’re nice and she liked me and taught me the dance I was doing.”
“God, Peter, how many drinks did you have?” She paces her words as she talks, treating him like a little kid because that’s what he’s acting like. He’s acting like a little kid who’s talking to his mom after a recital or something.
He squints and bites his lip as he thinks. “Uh..” Peter answers after a moment. “More than one?”
“Is that a question or a statement?”
“Pretty sure the Me from a minute ago meant it as a statement a… a minute ago..”
Michelle snorts. “Well, tell the You from a minute ago that he’s an idiot.” She says, grabbing his ear against his protests and starts dragging him to where she last saw Ned.
Surprise, surprise, Ned isn’t there.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” She mutters.
“I didn’t say a joke.” Peter answers, pushing her hand away from his now-red ear. “I have one, though! Two.. two whales walk into a bar and one says”-- cue the whale noises coming out his mouth--” and the other one says…”
Michelle sighs and takes out her phone as she looks for Ned’s contact in her phone. “What does the other one say, Peter?” She says, half-distracted.
“Shut up, Jeff, you’re drunk!” He shouts, and then laughs hysterically like it’s the funniest thing in the world.
“No, Peter. You’re drunk.” She replies in a neutral voice. She finally finds Ned’s number and calls him while Peter keeps laughing until he’s even redder than when she’d found him.
“Y’ellooo? ”
“Where the hell are you, asshole?”
“Oh shit? I thought I texted you.. uhh… Betty gave me a ride home to my uh.. my house.”
“Well, no, you didn’t text me, and now I’m stuck with a trashed Peter Parker in the living room of Flash, the world record holder of being a huge dick but having none at all.”
“ ...whoops? ”
“Yeah, whoops. You owe me. And my jacket better not be stained or anything. I want it back tomorrow. Get me proof of life soon.”
“Roger that, Captain!”
“General, actually.”
“Roger that, General Captain! Chair guy with the chair out.”
Okay, so something else about drunk Peter Parker:
He is unbearably clingy.
Michelle could have dealt with him talking her ear off and and tearing up as he confesses about the time he broke Cindy Moon’s pen and didn’t tell anyone it was him, but doing so while he latches onto her arm and never lets go? She was not going to survive the night.
Her original plan had been to walk in, get the dorks, and get out under ten minutes--- fifteen minutes, maximum. Now, her plan was to get Peter out under twenty minutes (if she’s lucky, since the guy is saying hi to everyone and is refusing to let go of Michelle for more than five seconds).
“Peter, we have to get to the car.” Michelle says for what seems like the umpteenth time since she’s gotten there but all he does is groan and lean his head on her shoulder.
“Peter, seriously .”
“Mishy, seriously .”
“First of all, horrible nickname, and don’t call me it unless you want to die a slow, painful death you’ll never see coming. Second of all, let’s go .”
Peter groans again and sits down without warning on the first chair he sees, having Michelle almost topple over head first. “M’tired.” He mutters, and not letting go of Michelle he begins to nod off.
“No, you don’t.” Michelle says, and snaps her fingers in front of his face. Peter’s eyes open immediately and he frowns, pouting in a way Michelle thought only babies or puppies could do.
She pulls him up with her free arm and he stands still for a moment before leaning forward and into Michelle’s arms, seemingly unconscious.
God, for a kid who looked like we weighed a buck twenty soaking wet, Peter really was heavy.
“Peter!” She shouts in his ear and he jumps awake again, blinking quickly. “Get to the fucking car first, and then we’ll talk about taking a nap.
“You’re bossy.” Peter replies, and Michelle shifts him over and makes it so that his arm is slung around Michelle’s shoulders. “And tall.”
“Both good things if I want to make it as a woman of color in this world.”
He laughs softly as Michelle starts walking, slipping through the sea of drunk under-age teenagers (which was essentially what Peter was). “I love it when you get political,” he hums, looking up at her lazily. “It’s why I like you so much.”
Now that makes Michelle stop in her tracks. She chokes on her own spit. “Wh- what? ”
“Well, your hair’s also nice.. and cool and nice.” Peter continues, the dopey grin from before back on his face. “I thought you were mean first but you’re actually nice. Did I say that already? Nice.”
“Just…” She sighs and closes her eyes. “Let’s just go.”
Once again, Peter Parker has left Michelle Jones speechless.
She knows he’s probably just confused. He’s an idiot and drunk and he is not the best with feelings so he’s either confused or lying (except he has tells , and he didn’t do any of them; he didn’t bite his lip or twiddle his fingers or cough awkwardly or stammer but those are his tells so she probably didn’t notice when he did them).
There is no way on Earth that Peter fucking Parker, certified nerd who moonlights in spandex in his free time, has a crush on her. Plus, like mentioned before, he’s drunk, so who knows?
Getting him into her car is still hard, but it goes faster than she had estimated (precisely 15 minutes). Once he had directed his attention to her rather than talking to everyone he saw, it was easier to direct him out the fucking door.
“Put your seatbelt on.” Michelle commands once he’s sitting in the passenger seat but all he does is stick his tongue. “Do it or I’ll rip your tongue out.”
“You’re no fun.”
“And you’re drunk.”
“Am I talking too much? I feel like I’m talking too much? If I’m talking too much tell me because everyone says I talk a lot.”
“You’re talking the normal amount that a drunk Peter Parker would.”
“But I aaaam Peter Parker.”
“Exactly.”
Michelle has to fish his apartment keys out of his coat’s inside pocket as he leans against the wall next to his door. “Where’s your aunt?” She asks as she opens the door, pushing it open and stepping aside to let him in. He’s starting to sober up now, which is good for Michelle.
Peter shrugs. “I think it’s a night out with friends. A.. a girl’s night. For girls.”
“Nice.” She nods and lets the door slam behind her. “She deserves it.”
“Yeah.”
“So, you’ll be good?” Michelle says when he’s standing in his room, in his pijamas.
Peter frowns and doesn’t answer but instead meets her gaze.
“Pete?” She prompts.
“You’re leaving?”
Michelle rolls her eyes. Clingy. “Yes, Peter, I’m leaving because I also have a curfew and my mom is expecting me back by 12.”
Peter huffs and sits down on the plaid comforter of the bed. “What time is it? Like.. time-wise.”
“About eleven thirty.”
He starts pouting again and pats the space next to him. “You have time. Stay. Pleaaase? ”
Michelle sighs and sits next to him. “Do you think you can survive until your aunt comes back?” She wants to leave before she does something she regrets or Peter tells her something she’s not supposed to know (but he wants to make sure he’s safe first).
He shrugs and leans his head on her shoulder. “Maybe.”
Michelle pauses, swallowing. “Peter,” She says softly, memories of crying and a long night returning to her. Peter’s a lightweight but she knows that he pushes away his problems with any resources he can get his hands on (and a party, she thinks, could be a way for him to use pretty destructive resources to push them away). “You feeling okay?”
Peter looks up and she looks down, and their eyes meet and Michelle sucks in a breath. “Better now..” He mutters. “..now that I’m with you.”
Michelle freezes. What the fuck?
Okay, so:
Peter is not only a Clingy drunk, but a Romantic -Clingy drunk.
There are so many possible explanations and so many possible replies and it’s the second time today that he’s left her speechless-- and she, which she has made sure of, always has a sarcastic reply. Except now.
“You’re drunk.” Is the reply she decides on.
“ Noooooo .”
“The fact you said no that way shows how drunk you really are.”
Peter groans, leaning more into her so that she can feel him breathing against her neck. “Peter, I have to go.” She tries again, and moves to leave but Peter has her in a hug so strong she can barely move. The guy’s Spider-Man for a reason, huh?
“One more m’nute..” He mutters and finally shifts a little so Michelle can see his face again. “Just one more m’nute and I’ll tell you a s’cret.”
Michelle frowns. “Like what?”
Peter turns red. “Promise you won’t laugh ‘cause it’s a laughy secret.”
“I won’t laugh.” She promises, her expression neutral. “But then you’ll let me go?”
“Mmm… yeah?”
“Does past You mean that as a statement or a question?”
He laughs softly. “Statement.”
“Go ahead then, Spider-Man. It’s been more than a minute already.” Michelle says and her foot is tapping uncomfortably because this is exactly what she didn’t want to do (not to mention that if she’s later her mom will murder her, since she will absolutely notice that her daughter is gone and so is her car).
He straightens a little bit, so that they’re face to face, and leans in.
It takes her a moment to actually realize that they’re kissing.
guy in the chair has sent you a photo
yer jacket!!! it’s alive!! and not stained ye
guy in the chair; [ 12: 05 AM ]
She’s the first one to pull away and she’s out the door a second later, wiping her lips and hurrying out because he is under the influence and she doesn’t want the first kiss she has with a boy even her subconscious hasn’t realized she likes to be when he’s drunk and confused and probably won’t even remember it in the morning.
(When someone’s drunk, they’re easily manipulated. Not that Michelle manipulated him or anything, but she’s seen enough to know that even when someone comes at you-- someone you actually wanted to-- they might not feel the same way but you still took advantage of them because they were drunk and confused and didn’t know.)
She’ll text him in the morning, when he’s coming off a hell of a hangover and wondering if Michelle really was in his room last night. She’ll text him with something snarky, and then on Monday she’ll say something even snarkier and dismissive if he mentions it.
It’s not like she enjoyed it, or thought it was even real .
(But if it turns out Peter thought it was real and meant it then maybe she’ll roll her eyes and ask him on a coffee date and watch him blush and stammer when he says yes and she’ll say that she regrets it already but when he turns away she’ll smile. Maybe.)