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Mostly Peter dreams of normal (super painful) stuff: Ned’s lego nights, May nagging about homework, or MJ…just MJ.
Waking up rock hard from a dream where he’s fucking Jean, red hair tangled in his hands? Definitely not normal.
Even worse? “Good dreams?” Jean asks in his head. Apparently this is what they do now, the two of them.
“Did you make me dream that?” It’s too weird not to ask outloud.
“Ew, no.” A pause, then: “Kinda hot though.”
“Yeah, kinda,” he mutters, adjusting the bulge in his pants, desperately trying to keep his mind blank.
Jean just laughs.