Spring Break Fever

Chapter 7: Jealousy

Trying to hide this weird, overly-nice side he's had all morning, he replies: "I'm only doing this so you'll finally stop whining and complaining for once in your life."

"Yeah, it could be that. Or it could be the fact that you just want to have a reason to put your hands on me again." she smiles with feign innocence, watching him close the blinds, then grab a water from the fridge, then make his way back over to her. He just shakes his head and rolls his eyes, but this time it's in pretend annoyance and denial.

He's pretty sure he just really, really needs to get a breath of fresh air. And probably "blow off some steam" too, just to clear his mind and let himself start thinking straight again. Because this is getting ridiculous, and it's distracting, and the fact that she's purposely doing it to him makes it even worse.

"You caught me," he sighs sarcastically, sitting back down on the bed and handing her the water bottle. "So May usually just...I don't know, puts a pillow on my lap and lays on it and we do it that way," he tells MJ, already knowing she's going to make a suggestive comment about this. "But however you want to do it is fine."

"Laying on your lap is fine with me," she says, and he's shocked for a second when she says that without giving him a wink or a laugh or a teasing bite of her lip. But then she looks at him and says: "As long as you don't get any more boners, of course. That might be uncomfortable."

"Okay, can you finally stop messing with me about that?" he groans, now stacking pillows against the head of the bed so he'll be comfortable laying against it. "It was once, and it sucked, but...it isn't like you aren't susceptible to being turned on either! I just...can't tell when."

"Are you referring to me being wet, Peter?" she raises an eyebrow, a small smile on her lips. He blushes like an absolute idiot.

"Yeah, I am, actually," he shrugs, swallowing thickly. He's trying to defend himself but he's not sure it's working very well. Or not in the way he wanted it to, at least. "It just sucks that you could instantly tell the one time I was turned on, when you could have been this entire time and I just didn't know it. So I can't mess with you about it like you mess with me about it."

"I mean if you want proof that bad, then you're welcome to feel for yourself if you'd like," she shrugs, looking at him with a slight tilt of her head. Is she talking about what he thinks she's talking about? "But only with your mouth."

His jaw actually drops then in shock, and she's laughing, and he's forcing himself not to imagine that thought.

"I literally didn't think the jokes could be any cruder."

"They can always be cruder."

"Let's please not test that theory."

"Why? Scared you'd like it?"

"No, just scared I'd get a visual and involuntarily start blowing chunks like you did last night."

"You mean get a visual and get an erection?"

"No, I definitely meant throw up," he replies with a huff, finalizing the conversation. She just smiles. "Just lay down so we can get this over with."

"That's not usually how I like to start off a dirty talk session, but I guess it can still get the job done," she shrugs, grabs her pillow and puts it down on his lap, and then settles her head there. "So I know you wanted this to be intimate and everything, but can we turn the TV on? My lack of blue light consumption this week is causing severe withdrawals."

He doesn't say anything, he just grabs the remote and switches it on, changing the channels until MJ insists they watch Wheel of Fortune. So they do.