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A New Rule

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“So, is MJ there yet?”

Ned’s knowing face peered out from Peter’s cell phone screen. They had just started facetiming 10 minutes ago, and dammit, Ned was already poking at the elephant in the room.

“Uh, no. Not yet. Should be here soon though.” Peter coughed and looked away from the screen, trying to hide his embarrassment and excitement. “So how’s the Philippines?”

“Don’t try to change the subject, dude.”

Ned’s great aunt’s second cousin’s niece was celebrating her 100th birthday, and the entire family was gathering. It was a huge deal and his lola basically threatened him with the wrath of multiple generations if Ned didn’t show up. ( “Do you really have to go? What about our Lego marathon?” Peter had asked the week prior to his departure. “Dude, I do not want my ancestors haunting me over a missed birthday party. I definitely don’t need that kinda bad juju.” )

It was summer and Ned had earned enough extra credits to take the semester off, so an extended vacation was a no-brainer. Peter and Michelle weren’t as lucky, both still had a semi-full class schedule, but at least they weren’t having their arms twisted into visiting a distant relative they never even met before.

“So what are you gonna do while she’s there?” Ned asked.

“I dunno. She’s got a full schedule Monday through Friday. So I guess we’ll just watch some movies on the weekends and hang out?” Peter scratched the back of his head, and somehow knew where this conversation was going.

“Right right right. As long as you guys don’t have sex on the couch. Again. Please .”

Peter’s cheeks flushed red, remembering the way he had hooked up with Michelle during their drunken game night, but before he could come back with a retort, Ned continued, “What’s going on with that, anyway?”

“Uh,” was all Peter could manage. 

How does one go about telling your best friend that you and your other best friend were essentially Friends With Benefits, but that it wasn’t as casual as it sounded and you wanted to eventually evolve the relationship further? Eventually. Yea. That.

Peter knew how it sounded: like complete bullshit. They were serious though, at least in his mind. And hopefully in Michelle’s mind as well.

After their first night (and day) together months ago, she had taken the initiative (because of course she did, Peter was an absolute chicken shit when it came to these things) to communicate her thoughts on the matter. Yes, she wanted him. No, she wouldn’t push any kind of labels on them if he didn’t want to. She was willing to take it further whenever he was, though.

Peter tried to meet her half way, but communication was never his strong point, especially when it came to facing his feelings. Yes, he wanted her too. Relationships were tough for him at the moment, though. Fear and wariness still gripped him, he hadn’t gotten close to anyone during the period where everyone basically forgot that he existed. He did his best to convey that to her, but he knew he just sounded like he was a dumbass and scared of commitment. Which wasn’t necessarily untrue. But Michelle had only looked at him with knowing and understanding eyes, she’d give him as much time as he needed, and it made his heart squeeze with overwhelming love and guilt. Moving froward from sex-friends to an actual relationship was still up in the air for them.

They had then discussed the parameters of their FWB status, at Michelle’s insistence. Being pragmatic, she had already come up with a list of guidelines.

1. Exclusive. - Sexually and romantically. They were friends that had sex with each other, and only each other. And they admitted that neither was interested in dating other people, and that feeling wouldn’t change any time soon. Dating in general didn't feel quite right (for Peter, at least).

2. Keep feelings in check. - As long as Peter wasn’t ready for a full relationship, this would be about sex, and only sex. Being sweet and giving each other aftercare was fine so long as it didn’t stray into the lovey-dovey. Save that for their “eventually”.

( “What about your promise?” she had teased as she smirked and prodded his shoulder. “Yea, I know. I-I’ll get there. Eventually. I’m sorry, Em.” Being the patient saint that she was, she merely nodded once and took his hand in her’s and gave a tight squeeze. Fuck, what kind of amazing karma had he acquired to deserve this goddess, he wondered.)

3. Communication and availability. - Meeting up meant sexy times. Unless specifically stated otherwise. That’s where the communication would come in. Michelle was adamant about keeping open dialogue about what they desired and how they were feeling about it all.

4. Friends for life. - Regardless of everything, they were friends. Best friends. If ( ‘when’ , according to Peter) that changed and it grew into something more, they would still be friends no matter what.

He didn’t have any issues with their arrangement, although he wondered if Rule Number 2 and 3 (namely the communication part) would be tough for him. Michelle seemed to know him better than he knew himself, though, and added that their “rules” were subject to change at any period, for any reason, but only after talking it out.

There was another thing they had talked about recently, something that was both exciting and nerve wracking, but there was no way he was going to bring it up with Ned. It felt way too personal. In fact, none of this was something Peter was willing to talk about with anyone other than Michelle. 

Ned’s fingers tapping on the screen and his “Earth to Peter” snapped Peter out of his musing. He realized that he hadn’t said anything for quite some time and was staring at nothing while lost in his own thoughts.

He cleared his throat, “MJ and I are fine.”

“So… dating?”

“Uh, n-not quite.”

Ned sighed and gave his friend a sympathetic look. “Dude, just tell her you like her. Love her, even. You know she feels the same way.”

Peter shook his head before muttering something about things not being that easy, things were complicated and fucked up and what not. He chewed on the inside of his bottom lip, he knew he was probably only making excuses.

Of course he was aware that she felt the same way. Of course he trusted her beyond words. And of course the dumbass irrational side of his brain made both those things irrelevant.

Embarrassment at his inability to commit to a relationship right now was an understatement. He felt ashamed that he had so much trouble accepting people into his life again. Chalk it up to the trauma of being forced to be alone for years. Or something. Whatever. He usually preferred not to think about it. That was how he dealt with the insecurity. It wasn't healthy, and he knew he had to face and overcome it at some point, if not for his sake then for Michelle’s. Being Friends With Benefits didn’t seem like a long-term solution, and the longer it went on the higher the chance of hurting each other. But fuck was it hard to accept that kind of weakness in himself. Spider-Man wasn’t weak. He could take a flying car right to his chest and keep fighting, but admitting he was scared to open his heart to someone just to potentially get left behind again? To lose them again? Pft. Let Future-Peter deal with that.

“Just… just take care. Of each other. Alright? I don’t want to see my best friends hurt.” Ned, bestest bud Ned, always seemed to just know. It was like he could read minds. He was part magic, afterall.

“Yea, Ned. I know.”

Ned proceeded to rattle off a checklist of things for Michelle’s stay at their apartment. His set of keys were waiting for her in a kitchen drawer, he’d cleaned his room and changed his bedsheets already since she was bunking there (as much as she adored Peter, she also enjoyed her privacy), he reminded Peter to show her where the first aid kit was located because Spider-Man was bound to end up with cuts and bruises, and she was welcome to any of the food and snacks except for the triple chocolate fudge brownie ice cream in the freezer that was clearly labeled ‘NED’.

Please , no sex in the living room. Or the kitchen. We gotta eat there, dude.” He laughed even though he was dead serious.

Peter snickered and blushed furiously, “Yup. Got it.” Shit, he couldn’t meet Ned’s eyes, this was like that mortifying sex talk Aunt May had given him long ago.

“And for the love of all things holy, please, my bestest friend in the whole wide world…”

There was a knock at the front door as a text message from Michelle popped up on Peter’s phone. She had finally arrived. “Uh huh, best friend.” Peter said, distracted. He got up from his reclined sitting position on his bed and started to make his way through the living room to the front door.

“Please, PLEASE, do not have sex on my be—”

“MJ’sheregottago!” Peter said in a rush, cutting Ned off before hanging up the call in a hurry. He’d have to apologize later. The excitement of having his girlfriend friend best friend, that happened to be a girl, one that he was madly in love with and having sexy times with, but was also too afraid of fully committing to… (yea, not a fucked up sitaution at all…) staying with him for the next couple of months was too thrilling. Plus he was just about done talking about his sex life with Ned for at least the rest of the year.

He slipped his phone into his back pocket and opened the door. Michelle stood there with a blank expression on her face, a backpack slung over her shoulder and a large duffel bag clutched in her hand.

“Hey,” Peter smiled weakly. He’d be lying if he said butterflies weren’t bouncing around in his stomach. Would it be breaking Rule Number 2 if he drew her in for a hug and kiss and told her he missed her?

Before he could work himself into an anxiety-frenzy over the question, she nodded her head and casually walked into the apartment. But not before gently grazing her free hand across his chest as she passed by him, a smirk and certain glint in her eyes. “What’s up, tiger?”

Nevermind Rule 2. With a look like that from her… Peter’s dickbrain instantly jumped to Rule 3, and determined that this was going to be an exciting next few months.



Or. Maybe not that exciting.

Michelle’s schedule was packed with classes, projects, and study groups. Peter had his own share of academic obligations, but nowhere near as loaded as her. He had teased her about being an overachiever while simultaneously cheering on her endeavors.

Needlesstosay, she wasn’t really around or available for the first couple of weeks of their cohabitation. Even her weekends were consumed with essays and homework. The Sunday night she moved in they only had had a late dinner together, watched a movie and then both went to bed. Separately.

It was something she had communicated to him even before she agreed to stay for the summer, and naively, Peter had readily accepted it, but probably had underestimated just how serious her time constraints were.

Not that he was complaining. Much. He was grateful that any free time she managed to find she chose to spend it with him, be it watching a quick tv show or eating shitty take-out food together while she worked on her laptop.

Even so, by week three they had spent so little time together, nevermind sexy times together, that his patience was starting to strain. Maybe he’d been a bit overeager (ok, a lot overeager) about her stay and their FWB status. Especially after their previous discussion just prior to her coming over. But he couldn’t help it, ok? The thing they had talked about made his heart beat a little faster and his dick twitch in anticipation.

Michelle had dropped the bomb on him that she had started birth control. Which, ok, great, they were already using condoms, so now they would be extra-responsible, right? Peter’s thick brain failed to understand the implications, and she had had no issue laying it out plainly for him.

“I’m on birth control now.”

“That’s… great?”

“You do know what that means, right?”

“Uh. Birth control and we’re using condoms. Double the protection, so… I can fuck you extra hard?”

She pulled away from the phone, but her heavy laughter still bounced loudly in his ear. “Peter, Petey. Sweetheart. It means you can fuck me without the condom now, idiot.”

“Oh. OHHHH.”

Peter’s anticipation climbed to new heights from that moment until she showed up at his and Ned’s apartment. They had had plenty of sex already, but it would be their first time together where they actually got to feel each other properly. And if the internet was to be believed, sex without a condom should be even better than with (Michelle had rolled her eyes at him over it, though).

With her busy schedule, all of his excitement and anticipation had been building up and going nowhere. He filled in his free time with Spider-Man patrols, a lot of patrols. It was the only thing he could do to keep his mind off of his best friend and part-time lover in the next room.

He could very well just ask her if she wanted to indulge in some carnal pleasure ( “Ew, never call it that again.” She had scrunched up her nose in disgust the first time he had used that term), but she had already laid clear lines for the first month. School and work above all else. Peter loved her for her tenacity and stubbornness and didn’t want to impede.

But in the apartment alone, sitting on his bed having just finished an assignment, Peter was not loving the current state of things. Michelle was at a study group for a project, and told him not to wait up if it ran late. He tossed his head back into his pillow and sighed deeply. Huh, was that water stain always on his bedroom ceiling? He sighed again. He was frustrated. Anxious. Horny. So fucking horny.

So Peter did what he had been doing for the past few weeks, he took matters into his own hands. More specifically, took himself into his own hand. It wasn’t very satisfying since nothing could compare to sharing a moment with Michelle, but it had to do. For now.

Flinging his tshirt off he laid back on his bed, closed his eyes, and let his mind wander. Michelle’s tender smile, her soft hands on his back, the way her legs cradled him perfectly, her breathy moans in his ear, and the way her insides fluttered around him before and after she came. Peter plunged his hand into his sweatpants and boxers. He freed his half-hard dick and gingerly began to rub it to fullness, thumbing his tip every other stroke. Eyes closed, thoughts only of Michelle, his breathing grew ragged as he chased the pleasure. His grip tighter, roughly jerking himself, and his free hand moved down to fondle his balls, he climbed ever higher. He was close… so close…

And suddenly his Peter-tingle started to sound. It was a small distant nagging, usually nothing worth noting, probably could be ignored in other situations, but then he heard it. The jingling of the lock on the front door. Michelle was back, but fuck, he was almost there.

He bit his lip to muffle any wayward moans, and with a few more harsh strokes his breath hitched and he finally reached his peak just as Michelle entered and called out, “Peter? I’m back.”

Breathing heavily, he looked down at himself and swore silently when he realized he had run out of tissues in his room. He jumped up from the bed, a now-limp dick still in his sticky hand, and a slight panic building in his chest. Over what? a small part of him wondered. It wasn’t as if masturbating was against any rules. Maybe she didn’t know just how sexually frustrated he was, but he knew. And that just made it all mildly embarrassing. Not Peter with his impatient brain in his dick. He was sure Michelle never got this way, no she had too much self-control.

Still high from his orgasm, Peter clumsily rushed to his laundry basket across the room and grabbed a dirty shirt to wipe himself down before tucking his dick back into his pants. As he threw the extra-soiled clothes back into the hamper Michelle opened his bedroom door.

Panting, he turned quickly toward her and breathed out, “Hey.”

Michelle eyed him carefully, eyes tracing over his defined abs, hard chest, and muscular arms. “Hey. Why are you breathing hard?”

“Pushups?” He squeaked out before clearing his throat and clarified, “Just working out. Pushups.”

A beat. He could hear her heart rate speed up. She licked her lips taking in the sight of his bare skin, her eyes glazed over with lust. “I could use some exercise too.” It was a whisper but thank you Spidey-senses, he heard it loud and clear.

Peter’s heart pounded hard in his chest. This was it. Finally. After weeks of waiting. Except he had just jacked off and came pretty hard. Thanks to his Spider-Man mutation, his refractory period was relatively low. Even so, he’d still need at least 30 minutes. Shit, talk about bad timing. But not wanting to kill the mood by asking her to wait that amount of time, he simply smirked “Y-yea? I think I can help with that.”

“Oh thank fuck, I’ve had a hell of a day.” Michelle walked quickly toward him, throwing her arms around his neck, and pressing her body tightly up against his. Their lips meeting in a passionate kiss, all tongue and teeth. He teased her lower lip with soft bites, and she sucked hungrily on his tongue.

With some clumsy effort they hastily rid themselves of clothing, all while attempting to maintain as much skin to skin contact as possible, their hands continually roaming each other’s body. She instinctively reached down and began stroking him, not knowing he was still sensitive from his earlier session. He gasped into her mouth at her touch, his dick jumping back to life, but he knew it was mainly due to biology and the blood pumping heavily through his veins. If he wanted to give her what she wanted he was going to need more time. He had to figure out a way to stall.

Once they were fully naked Peter guided her to his bed. The mattress gave way when he pushed her gently backwards and crawled on top of her. While running his hands over her soft skin, he kissed every inch of her that he could. Her neck, each breast, down her stomach, over her navel, he traveled further south. He could feel the heat radiating from her center, his breath tickling her folds, but before he could flick his tongue out to taste how wet she was, she ran a hand through his hair and tugged, drawing his attention up to her face.

Michelle’s chest rose and fell with every quick breath, a blush across her cheeks. She shook her head and brought her other hand to his cheek.

Puzzled, Peter blinked at her. “No?”

“I’m good, Pete. C’mere.”


“I’ve waited for weeks. I’m so done. I just want to feel you, tiger.” She grinned devilishly, her hand caressed his face, a thumb tracing his lips.

Peter steeled himself, making sure none of his internal panic showed as he stalled for time. “Are-are you sure? Shouldn’t I make you feel good first?”

“Dork, I said I’m ready.” Michelle smiled and sat up to cup both her hands around his face and pulled him toward her. She kissed him with fervor, arching up into his body, her small moans swallowed by his mouth.

He made a half-hearted attempt to pull away to get a better look at her face, and managed to get out a staggered sentence between kisses. “But— what— if— I— want— tomakeyoufeelgood…?”

A beat between them. She looked at him curiously but then chuckled. “Ok,” was all she said before she squirmed out from underneath him and pushed him backwards to lie on the bed. Before he could protest, she was on her knees, straddling over his hips, her hand at her crotch. Looking down toward her hand, his eyes widened as he saw her fingering herself, her slick glistening on two digits as they disappeared and reappeared.

A few moments later she removed her hand, darted her tongue out to give her wet fingers a quick lick while staring intensely at him, and then she gripped his dick to tease her entrance with the tip, smearing her juices across it. Peter groaned, briefly forgetting that even though Peter Jr. was hard and standing at attention, he probably wouldn’t be able to finish.

“So, then make me feel good.” It was her only warning before he watched her sink herself down onto his dick, burying him deep within her in one swift, impatient motion. His eyes rolled in his head and he threw his head back, breath stuttering. She whimpered and brought her hands to brace herself on his chest.

“Fuck, Peter.” Michelle said breathlessly.

“Believe me, I’m trying.” Peter quipped, which made them both snicker, but laughter was soon replaced with moans when he experimentally rolled his hips up, somehow driving himself even deeper into her. It felt phenomenal, he’d never felt physically closer to her.

They quickly fell into a familiar rhythm. He brought his hands up to her hips to help steady and guide her. Thrusting up, he met her halfway as she ground down onto him. Sounds of wet skin and moans echoing through the room. Dazed and lost in pleasure, she looked at him through half-lidded eyes, their pace growing faster. 

It wasn’t long before he felt her quivering, she was close, so he deftly stimulated her clit. It earned him a breathy moan and her pace momentarily faltered. Eyes closed, head rolled back, her hips grinding even harder, a continual chant of his name flowed from her lips. After a few more harsh thrusts, she tensed up and let out a long whine, her insides clenching his dick tightly, before crumpling onto his chest like jelly tumbling onto a plate.

“Mmm, so good.” her breath started to even out after a few moments. “Your turn.”

Michelle sat back up and started to languidly roll her hips into him. After having just ograsmed, her pace was deliberate and slow, he could still feel her twitching around his dick.

Peter let her take over completely, his hands relaxing on her thighs as she slowly rode him. Her warm and soft insides felt amazing, his dick sliding in and out effortlessly. He tried to let himself get lost in the pleasure, but he knew this wasn’t going to end the way they both hoped. Damn his earlier impatience and Peter Jr.’s current betrayal.

Although she had initially started up again to finish him off, she was hypersensitive after her first climax, so she rapidly brought herself to another orgasm just by taking him into herself over and over, angling her hips to hit all the right spots. A sheen of sweat coated her skin, eyes heavy with satisfaction, euphoria enveloping her entire body. She was hypnotic and he was enraptured, he could watch her ride him forever.

Which felt like it might actually be the case. For-fucking-ever. Because despite all her best efforts (and his as well), he just couldn't feel it in him to come. Every sloppy stroke of her folds on his dick sent pleasurable streaks of fire up and down his spine. But it wasn’t going to happen. He knew it wasn’t going to happen for at least a little while longer, and he could tell by her now less enthusiastic motions that it wouldn’t be soon enough before she was too tired to keep going at this pace.

Panting and a little exhausted, her brow furrowed as she looked down at him while still doing her best to ride him. “Peter?”

He made a non distinct noise in response.

“You close?”

He shut his eyes tightly and sighed. It was time to face the music. He looked at her face, it was concerned and expectant. Guilt washed over him. Damnit, fuck Past-Peter and his poor life choices (or maybe, don’t fuck Past-Peter, right?).

He lightly tapped on her hip. “MJ, Em, I-I can’t.”

At his admission she froze, his length still hard, twitching and trapped inside her. “What do you mean ‘you can’t’?” She let out a nervous laugh and minutely rutted against him.

“Sorry. I’m sorry, Em. I can’t right now.” Heat spread across his cheeks, he couldn’t meet her stunned expression, and simply grunted as she clambered off of him. She hissed when he slipped out. Wordlessly, she climbed off the bed and hurried out of his room, slamming the door behind her.

He looked down at his deflating cock, cursing at it and himself. What a mood killer. He messed up. He should have clarified. Communicated. They weren’t even that long into their… whatever relationship they had… and he’d already broken a rule. Now everything was ruined.

Peter scrubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hands and silently swore again. He had wanted it to be good for them, so good, but he’d gone and fucked things up (even more than they already were) because he couldn’t talk it out properly like an adult. Because he was fucking scared and ashamed and embarrassed. Spider-Man may not be weak, Peter Parker sure as hell was. Fuck. How could Michelle ever want someone as flawed as him?



He wasn’t sure how much time had passed as he was wallowing in his self-pity. Probably not much. He vaguely registered the sound of the toilet flushing, water from the sink, and bathroom door closing. He jumped when Michelle banged the door open. Meeting her eyes only caught him in the whirlwind of a heated, furious scowl.

She stormed into the room, stood before him, crossed her arms and glared down. “Explain.”

“I’m sor—”

Michelle held up a hand in a motion for him to stop. “I get it, you’re sorry. But what the fuck was that, Peter?”

His mouth hung open while his brain desperately tried to restart after flatlining. After a long silence between them, he finally managed to mutter, “I couldn’t come.”

Exasperated, she rolled her eyes. “Obviously.” A pause and her expression suddenly shifted from anger to something vulnerable, almost sad. She picked at her fingernails and said quietly, “Is it me?”

Peter’s chest seized. He had been so caught up in his own insecurities and brooding that he had failed to realize how it might impact her. “Nononono, Em. Not you, not you.” He got up onto his knees on the bed so they were eyelevel and took her hands into his own. “Em, it’s not you. Believe me, it’s my fault. All me.”

She stared at their joined hands, lips pressed tightly together in a line. “So then, why? Do I not turn you on anymore? Am I not enough?”

His heart sank at the thought that she would ever consider herself as the problem. Peter knew he absolutely had to clarify. Communicate . “Stop. You turn me on. A lot. All the time. I want you all the time. It’s just I…” Gulping, he finally admitted sheepishly, “I… I might have just…yenno.” Unable to say it, his face flamed even brighter red as he averted his eyes, and made a hand motion to indicate what he meant. “...right as you got home.”

His words hung in the air as she processed it. A small part of him wanted to disappear into the shadows and be forgotten again. This was one of those moments that would keep him up at night years later, cringing at his own idiocy.

But then he heard the tiniest snort. Which soon turned into a cackle. Peter debated between slinking away in shame or laughing along with her. He decided to go with the latter and let himself own up to just how stupid he’d been. She squeezed his hands and finally looked up at him, the apprehension and anger finally gone, her features soft and warm again.

“Loser, why didn’t you just tell me? Rule 3, hello? We didn’t have to… I mean, we could have waited had I known.”

“I’m sorry. I should have. I know. I was kinda embarrassed, I guess. And really excited to finally be with you. Plus, you seemed especially eager.”

“Well, duh. I’ve missed you. Felt bad about our schedules not really lining up. But I wasn’t that eager, at least not for that kind of ending.” She scoffed and made a sour face.

Peter’s lips quirked up and he couldn’t help himself. “Give me about 10 minutes, I can guarantee you a ‘happy’ ending this time.” To that, he got a playful shove to the shoulder.

“Shut up, you weirdo.” A pause as she considered his offer, and then, “Ok. Sure. Let’s do it, tiger. But you’re doing all the work.”


She nodded and then went quiet, tapping her cheek with a finger, as if in deep thought. “And, new rule.” she finally said.

Peter raised an eyebrow and made a questioning sound.

“Rule 5 - No sticking it in me unless you plan on coming inside me .” A devious look crept into her eyes and a shit-eating grin spread across her face.

“But I always plan on cumming in you, Em.”

She groaned and rolled her eyes, but smiled tenderly, “You know what I mean!”

He received a small lighthearted shove to his chest as he pulled her into him, strong arms enveloping her. They shared a sweet kiss before he mentioned a change of scenery. Ned’s room, maybe? To which her eyes lit up with mischief before inquiring whether or not Ned would even be ok with that. Peter recalled something about Ned’s bed being off limits, but nothing was said about Ned’s bedroom floor or his desk…

They giggled and stumbled out of the room, wrapped in each other's arms, innocent kisses turning more needy and desperate as they made their way toward the second bedroom.

Peter momentarily noted to himself that he’d have to talk to her later about why it was so important for him to come, specifically inside of her. And they needed to have more serious talks about ‘them’ as well. But those conversations were for Future-Peter, and for another time. Right now he had to work on fulfilling a new rule made between them, one he was more than happy to follow.