Chapter Text
Michelle’s had the date on her calendar for months— it’s a date that she wouldn’t be able to forget even if she tries— and yet the day she wakes up for the two year anniversary of Peter’s death, she’s still not sure if it’ll be a bad day.
She wakes up alone, an intentional decision on both their parts. Johnny knew better than anyone what it was like to live your life in the spotlight and while Michelle was able to skate by most days, not always but most.
Michelle knew that wouldn't be the case today.
She took the day off work, even though she’s only a month in, something that confirmed for her that the gallery was a good choice when they accepted it without question, encouraging her to take the week of needed and making a not so subtle promise to deflect any calls they might get from some enterprising Spider-Man fan or some creepy tabloid.
Despite her intention to sleep in, Michelle couldn’t-- tempted to think of what that last day had been like and finding that there were some things she just couldn’t remember.
She couldn’t remember what their last night had been like, nor their morning— the only thing she can vividly remember was that the first time she saw Peter that day was also the last time she ever saw him.
The fact that Johnny was there for that moment isn’t lost on her.
Michelle doesn’t ignore the texts and the calls sent her way when she finally gets out of bed to make herself a cup of tea, but she also doesn’t answer them right away, knowing the temptation to scroll through social media would’ve been too great.
She didn’t care what people thought of her as a rule, but this felt too much like playing with fire.
Michelle instead decides to paint, with purpose and without, letting the mood carry her as she expels everything she’s feeling onto canvas. It takes her hours, enough that by the time she feels she’s finished it’s already early afternoon-- her stomach grumbling when she finally takes a step back and out of the creative zone she’d slipped into.
She scrolls through and replies to the messages she’d missed, from her mom and from May and from Ned and Johnny, but it’s the message from Tony that makes her laugh-- a poorly made meme of an Iron Man suit carrying takeout-- going to respond only for him to call.
“Hello?” Michelle answers.
“And to think that I was going to leave you a very long winded and exasperated voicemail. You’re messing me up here, Jones,” Tony says, Michelle laughing as she fits her phone in the space between her neck and her ear-- going over to the bathroom to wash some of the paint from her hands.
“Someone has to,” Michelle replies as Tony laughs on the other end.
“I know I can always count on you for that,” Tony says lightly, only for his tone to grow a little more somber as he asks, “Speaking of counting on people…”
“Subtle.”
“It’s my middle name,” Tony jokes but Michelle can hear the seriousness in it, Tony letting the silence hang in the air for a moment to give Michelle the space to articulate herself in a way that’s so distinctly Tony— from someone who intimately understands how hard it is to express said feelings, especially on what could very possibly be a bad day.
“I’m okay, I promise,” Michelle says, truly meaning it as she lets the water run and watches the paint colors swirl down along the sink, hearing Tony’s hum on the other line.
“Does being okay mean you’re well fed and hydrated as well?”
Michelle laughs, the red and the blues swirling around her sink turning purple-- smiling as she says, “Hydrated? Yes. Fed? No, I was working on something. Which, before you try and get on my case about that, remember that Peter used to tell me all about your lab days.”
“Traitor, even from beyond the grave,” Tony says with mock disdain, Michelle feeling that same prickle of grief in his voice that sounds gentle today-- turning off the water and reaching under the sink for one of her old towels as he continues, “He never knew how to shut up did he?”
“Not a day in his life,” Michelle says fondly, the memory of his laughter still ringing in her mind-- the spike of fear that she has that there will be a day when she forgets it sated slightly with the realization of who she is talking to.
Peter was loved by so many and Tony Stark-- more terrified and prepared for the future, even the ones none of them had ever wanted to admit could be made real-- would no doubt have thousands recordings of Peter saved on several drives.
It would bother her more if she wasn’t grateful for the chance now— making a note to ask him about them someday, but not today as she asks, “Have you talked to May?”
“First one I called,” Tony says because of course he did, because if there’s anything Michelle has learned in the years of knowing him and of knowing the difference between a public persona and the real person behind it-- that people were layered and complex and that love was transformative.
“I’ll check in with Ned and even that flying fire hazard but right now I’m calling you. Stop redirecting to anyone else and tell it to me straight,” Tony says jokingly, the thought occurring to her that Tony may be the one who would have more problems about her dating Johnny than anyone else did as she laughs. “What do you want to eat?”
“Pasta,” Michelle says, drying off her hands before taking her phone and putting it on speaker, “And before you say it, I can cook it myself.”
“Can and will are two entirety different things,” Tony deadpans, Michelle laughing as she switches the call from voice to video-- Tony answering almost immediately as he stares at her over his glasses.
“Look, I’m going to the kitchen right now ,” she says, humoring him because she’s been loved too long by Tony Stark already to know that if she didn’t that he would send over actual pasta from Italy. “Gonna make some penne or spaghetti or whatever it is I have here.”
Tony clicks his tongue, Michelle staring him down-- seeing the gears behind his eyes move and knowing exactly what he wants to ask even if he’s debating how much of an imposition he’ll be allowed to be.
Michelle’s in a good mood, all things considered-- knowing that Tony needs this just as much as she does as she says, “Talk to me while I make it?”
Tony smirks, clicking his tongue once more as he says, “Well if you’re offering.”
“I am,” Michelle says with meaning, catching the flicker of grief in Tony’s eyes before it turns to a smile.
“Then I’m here for you, Jones.”
Michelle smiles.
She already knew that to be true.
Michelle spends the rest of the day alone but not the night, Ned and Johnny both coming over to her place for movies-- for laughing and for jokes and even to cry, though none of them do.
At the same time, at least.
“He was so stupid,” Michelle says wiping a tear from her eye from laughter rather than sadness, Ned and Johnny both snickering as Ned takes a sip of his beer.
“Yeah, part of his charm though right?” Ned jokes, Michelle nodding her head to that as Johnny lays out on the couch-- looking up at the ceiling.
“Pretty white boy privilege is what it was,” Johnny says, Michelle smirking as Johnny shakes his head, “Ridiculous.”
“If it helps, he was self-aware,” Ned offers, both Michelle and Johnny turning to him. Ned smiles, holding back a laugh as he shrugs. “Mostly.”
Ned’s phone’s been going off at odd intervals throughout the night but it starts buzzing again, Michelle holding back her own laugh at watching the way Ned glances at the messages.
“Milo?”
“Yeah,” Ned says, quickly typing out a reply. “He wanted to meet up tonight but you know…” Ned trails off.
“Why don’t you go see him?” Johnny asks, Michelle’s eyes flicking from Johnny to Ned as Ned looks slightly conflicted.
“Cause it’s… it’s today you know?” Ned explains, bringing his phone down, “We should be together.”
“We are,” Johnny says, sitting up from the couch, “And if you wanted to spend your night with someone who makes you feel good, especially tonight, you should go for it.”
Johnny looks over to Michelle, a heat to his expression that has nothing to do with his powers as he says, “I know I will.”
“Okay yeah, I’m gonna go if you’re gonna do that,” Ned says, standing up so quickly that Michelle laughs. “God, I thought I’d escaped it but it’s just never gonna end is it?”
“What?” Michelle asks, laughing as she also stands to walk Ned out.
Ned looks at her meaningfully, eyes shifting between her and Johnny before saying, “Being around people in love.”
Michelle just smiles, looking over to Johnny who holds her gaze, the two of them laughing when Ned says, “See? Disgusting. Can’t stand either of you.”
“Love you too, Nedward. Tell Milo hello,” Michelle says with no small hint of glee, seeing the way Ned’s whole face lights up.
“No offense but I will not be talking about either of you,” Ned says with a wink before he grabs his stuff to head out.
Michelle and Ned share a moment— quick and brief, a quiet check between the two of them that could only be borne from the years between them.
You good? Ned asks with his eyes as he grabs his things, Michelle smiling and nodding in return.
Ned winks at her as she leaves— hearing all the things he doesn’t say, thinking now of all the things they’ve been through both because of Peter and after him— of the friendship and the love that she’ll always have in her heart for Ned Leeds, the only other person in the world who knows what it’s like to have loved Peter Parker in the specific way that they do— to have been with him as his people and to have lost him.
The only one— save for the person still in her apartment.
By the time Ned is gone and the door is locked, Johnny has already started to clean up-- Michelle walking over to him.
“We can do that later.”
“Sure but I know you care about bugs and since I, a government employee, am going to earn my tax dollar paycheck, then--” Johnny begins, only for Michelle to walk up to him.
“Let’s do that later,” she says with more intent, Johnny immediately getting her meaning as he drops the plastic plate back on the coffee table-- Michelle pulling him closer.
“What’d you have in mind?” Johnny whispers, his voice half-serious and half-seductive, something that makes Michelle smirk as she pulls him in even closer.
“Putting those tax dollars to work,” she says before kissing him, feeling Johnny’s laughter before he pulls her closer. The kiss isn’t intense even if the feeling is, Johnny’s hands skimming across her waist and underneath her shirt before he pushes her back and towards the bedroom.
“Careful, MJ. Might think all you want me for is my body,” Johnny murmurs as against her lips as she huffs out a laugh, separating the two of them as she leads him to her bedroom.
“It has its perks,” she says before Johnny pulls her back in, taken by surprise for a moment as he stares into her eyes.
His looks at her with a tender expression that makes her stomach flip, filled with love and with desire and still with longing as he says, “You’re incredible.”
“I know,” Michelle says, Johnny smirking at her as she continues, “So are you.”
“Not as much as you,” Johnny says intently before pulling her shirt over her head, Michelle helping him before reaching behind her to undo her bra.
“No but we can’t all be me,” she says as Johnny laughs, kissing her and cupping her breast as Michelle gasps into his mouth, his thumb swiping over her nipple before shifting her to lay back on the bed.
“There’s no one like you,” Johnny says as Michelle scoots back, Johnny unzipping his pants slowly. Michelle works off her own shorts as Johnny pulls his pants down, already half-hard as he does. “There’ll never be anyone like you.”
He crouches over her, her heartbeat starting to race in anticipation as he hovers over her entirely-- glad that she hadn’t made the bed this morning as she reaches between him to stroke him, Johnny’s moans turning her on as he kisses her.
She can feel him get harder by the moment, sliding her palm down to his tip to gather the wetness there and use that to make her hand slicker-- Johnny panting before he kisses her, grinding down so that Michelle moves her hand to feel him so deliciously closer to her.
“You’re amazing,” he says again, before lifting himself slightly to bring a hand down between them-- Michelle melting into the way he’s able to deftly use his fingers as she closes her eyes.
“A little harder,” she says, Johnny following her direction easily before slowly teasing at her entrance-- only for Michelle’s eyes to snap open when he removes his hands and his whole body-- laughing as he reaches over to her bedside table and rifles around for the condoms she keeps there.
“Eager?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Johnny murmurs as he tears open the condom, pumping himself before sliding it on. “I don’t think I’m gonna last long tonight.”
Michelle bites her tongue, partly because she doesn’t know if it’s too soon to joke about their first time having sex and partly because the thought that he was getting so worked up about getting her off just made her even wetter-- only to laugh when Johnny says, “I’m never gonna live down the kitchen if I don’t.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” Michelle says lightly, only for Johnny to make a face-- Michelle’s mouth dropping open when he teases another finger into her before sliding in his tip.
“No,” Johnny says with considerable restraint before slowly beginning to pump inside of her. Michelle pants as he does, each time he slides into her opening her up even more perfectly until he bottoms out on the fourth thrust, a perfect stretch as he sighs into her neck and says, “But this is better.”
Michelle’s not going to complain, not when Johnny begins to move, Michelle shifting her foot to press down into the mattress-- hiking up the other to dig into the back of his thighs as he begins to work.
“ Fuck I’m never gonna get over this,” Johnny pants as his hips work, his mouth working down from her neck to her breast-- Michelle leaning further into the mattress as he shifts his body weight to lean back.
“What?” Michelle whines as Johnny shifts his weight all the way back, bracketing her hips up at an angle and pulsing into her-- grasping at the pillows behind her.
“This. You. You’re-- fuck -- you’re perfect, MJ,” Johnny says, Michelle forcing her eyes open to see the way Johnny’s pounding into her, to watch his dick slide in and out of her until she can’t anymore-- Johnny balancing his grip with one hand to her hip and another to her clit.
" Right there ,” Michelle pants, arching her back and leaning into it as he begins to work even harder-- Johnny moaning as she does.
Johnny fucks into her harder, faster, sweeter-- time losing all sense of meaning except for the feel of Johnny moving inside of her, to the sound of him panting out her name and to the way his strong hands comb over every inch of her until Michelle comes with his name on her lips, rippling around him and grasping at the pillows behind her.
Johnny’s pace becomes frantic after she does, following her over the edge not long after-- pulling out and flopping down beside her.
Michelle’s orgasm is still sending shockwaves throughout her system, chest heaving as she stares up at the ceiling before forcing herself to look over at Johnny, tying off the condom and throwing it towards the trash bin, flopping back on the bed Michelle biting back a laugh at seeing the completely wrecked expression on his face.
“Can I…” Johnny says, panting and clearly out of breath, “say something that might be… weird?”
“Sure,” Michelle says, Johnny smirking at her.
“You know, Peter always used to joke, about us getting together,” Johnny says, Michelle growing quiet as she looks over at him. “I just… knowing him and knowing us now, I wonder if he’d think it was… I don’t know. Funny?”
“Funny that we’re together? Or funny that we fucked on the anniversary that he died?” Michelle deadpans, Johnny snorting as he turns towards her.
“Both? Maybe? I don’t know,” Johnny says before his expression turns softer, bringing his hand up to cradle her face.
“I want to do more than fuck you,” Johnny says quietly, “It’s-- this means more to me than that.”
“I know,” Michelle says, turning her so that they’re facing each other. Because she does, know that about Johnny and about herself— months of casual hookups that were fun not quite comparing to how she feels when she’s with Johnny.
The sex is good, Johnny is good— but that’s not why she wants to be with him.
“Me too,” she answers right back, Johnny scooching closer to her.
“Does it bother you, that I brought him up?” Johnny asks quietly, a question they’ve danced around with in the month they’ve began this new shift in their relationship-- several conversations and several nights together of figuring out what’s changed in their relationship and what’s stayed the same.
Sex, staying over— that’s undeniably different. But the familiarity, the comfort, the love — that hasn’t changed a bit.
It feels right, not like a progression or a step but a choice— a good one, she thinks as she rests her hand on his cheek.
“No,” Michelle answers honestly, running her thumb over his cheek— Johnny moving to kiss at her palm as she asks, “does it bother you?”
“No,” Johnny replies, sinking his head back into the pillow, “he’s-- I mean, it’s Peter you know?”
Michelle does know, perfectly well-- thinking that there was no one else who could understand nearly as well-- to be basking in the afterglow of their respective orgasms and still mourning the person that they both knew that if he was still alive, they wouldn’t have been together in this way.
Maybe Michelle would’ve spent the rest of her life with Peter if given the chance, but she wouldn’t-- the choice taken away from her and taken away from Johnny too.
But Peter spent the rest of his life with her, Michelle having loved him so fiercely and so wholly that it surprised her in a good way that she was able to have that same feeling again for Johnny.
Michelle is alive. Johnny reminds her of how good it is to be alive.
Johnny could never replace Peter, but neither of them wanted him to—the truth of how they came together just as binding as the reality that even with Peter gone, Michelle and Johnny still chose to be together. What she felt for Johnny was so much more than the fact that he was there or because of their shared grief— seeing in Johnny’s eyes a connection that she couldn’t shake even if she wanted to.
Michelle loved Peter and she always would.
But Michelle loved Johnny too.
As she pulled him in closer, kissing him as his hands wrapped around her-- Michelle allowed herself to live in that.
“It’s hard to believe it’s been two years,” Michelle says to herself, to the wind, bundled up with her favorite jacket and a cup of tea in her hands as she looks out over the fire escape and over the city.
It’s quiet, just after sunrise-- Johnny still asleep in her bed, tangled up in her sheets and woven into her heart, Michelle having smiled as she slipped out of bed to look out over the city.
She’d spent the entirety of the day, the anniversary, alone but it was in the early morning light-- staring out over the city as the sun lights up a new day that she thinks for the first time to speak to Peter-- less to her memories and more to the future, to who he’ll be for her going forward.
“I love you,” Michelle says, staring up at the skyline, “And I miss you so fucking much.”
Michelle watches as the sun slowly starts to rise, golden shadows dancing across the buildings as she stares-- knowing that there’s no qualification she needs to give to herself, much less to Peter wherever he is-- having loved and known him long enough to trust as well that Ned was right.
Peter would want her to be happy, wherever and however and whoever that happiness came from.
It hits Michelle then, that while Johnny made her happy in a way that she hadn’t dreamed would happen for her again and so soon, he wasn’t the source of her happiness.
Michelle had good days and she had bad days but that was the point— she still had days , days that weren’t endless or guaranteed but ones she got to live either way.
She had a family who loved her-- a family that was a patchwork of the people who raised her and people she chose, who supported her and cheered her on.
She had friends and people around her, a job she enjoyed and an apartment she liked-- a life that was her own despite the continuously prying eyes.
She didn’t have the privacy she had before, she didn’t have the anonymity or the comfort in knowing that her decisions were only discussed between the people who knew her-- but she had people who understood, people that she couldn’t have ever anticipated relying on in this way but being glad for it all the same.
Michelle had lost Peter.
But Michelle still had herself, had her life-- had her memories and her joys and her pains and a future , all things to take solace in as she looked out to the sky.
Michelle could dwell on what she didn’t have but it wouldn’t be useful, not now— on the dawn of a new day and with a cup of tea in her hand, fingers itching to capture the exact shade of golden yellow cascading over the city.
Not when she couldn’t help but think of all the things she still had yet to gain.
This wasn’t the life that she had anticipated or planned for, wasn’t the life she had ever hoped to see.
But it was the life that she had.
She breathed in, exhaled slowly, watching the sunrise slowly build over the city.
Michelle could be at peace with that.