Eastside | PeterMJ

three: friendships

i'm having a lot of fun writing this story, i hope everyone is enjoying it as much as i am! thanks for reading so far <3

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One drink turns into two, two turns into three, three turns into four, and after that Peter lost count. MJ didn't have nearly as much as he did, probably less than half, but that's most likely because she knows how to limit herself. It's all so new to Peter he decided he might as well go all out, even though he knows it's a stupid idea.

"You are so trashed right now." MJ shoves her finger into Peter's chest.

The two of them had been dancing for hours, only stopping to get more drinks or have some small snacks to keep them from passing out.

"Shut up. Iss your fault." Peter slurs, nodding his head to the beat of the blasting music.

MJ laughs, catching Peter staring at her. She pretends to ignore it, continuing her dancing. The lights bounced off her, changing her from red to green to all of the colors that Peter could possibly make out. He thought she looked beautiful, but he figured that that was because of the alcohol. Never in his life had he wanted to kiss anyone so badly. But he knew she didn't feel the same, and he didn't want to ruin this perfect night that they had been having. Peter knew he didn't like MJ like that, and it was all just happening in the heat of the moment. But that doesn't stop the sweat dripping down his forehead as he dances next to her, finishing another glass.

"Need another drink I'll be right back," Peter says, starting to stumble up to the bar.

"I think we've both had enough. The bartenders are starting to hate you." MJ responds, grabbing his arm. She decided that she had to be the responsible one.

Peter pouts. "But I'm having s'much fun."

"Come on."

"No, really. I've never had more fun in my whole entire life."

"I knew you would like it."

"Like it? I loved it. Come on, le'ss drink some water and go back in there!"

"No, come on. It's almost 4 in the morning."

MJ practically drags Peter back to her car, and they get in. She throws her head back into the seat. She had forgotten about a ride home. Calling an Uber would probably result in them getting arrested for drinking under the age of 21.

"How are we gonna get home?" Peter asks, glancing at MJ. "I don't know how to drive."

"Oh please, you couldn't drive right now even if you did have your license."

"I think I could."

"Alright, how many fingers am I holding up?" MJ flips him off.

"Um..." Peter squints.

"See. You had a lot more than me and even I'm not okay to drive."

He shakes his head. "Guess we're stuck here."

"No duh, Sherlock. If we're caught, we go to jail."

"I don't wanna go to jail!"

"Neither do I, so stay low. Put your seat back."

Peter complies, and soon they're both out of sight from anyone who would happen to walk by.

"I knew this was a bad idea." Peter mumbles.

"Shut up. You had fun."

"Yeah. But it was still a bad idea. I should call Aunt May. She will pick us up."