Chapter Text
trigger warning: alcohol, excessive consumption of alcohol
tags: established relationship (spiderparents)
Miguel is tired.
No, he quickly thinks, it's not that.
It's beyond the usual exhaustion. He's getting sleep these days: the Parkers have a very comfortable bed, and it's always easier to sleep between his two partners. It's all getting to him—the never-ending cycle, the responsibilities, the anomalies everywhere. Even with the extra help, the teens recruits pulling their way, even Miles, it just never ends.
"Lyla..." Miguel closes his eyes, rubbing his forehead with one hand, he can feel a headache coming.
And staring at the monitors won't help.
"Yes, boss?" His trusted AI appears out of thin air and he turns to her.
"I'm logging off for now and heading home. Just contact whoever is on stand-by and let me know if there is an emergency."
"What kind of emergency? The cafeteria has run out of tartare sauce emergency or there's about to be a giant tear in the fabric of space and time emergency?"
"... I'm going home," simply replies Miguel with a glare.
He doesn't think about it, fingers already pressing on one of his saved destinations on his gizmo. He closes his eyes through the portal, he knows he has timed it perfectly and when he steps into 616, Peter B.'s dimension, he still wearing his Spider-Man suit. And still, he collapses on top of the bed he left a few hours ago.
Everything is familiar, the pillows still carry the scents of Mary Jane, Peter, and Mayday. There's the sound of the TV coming from the distance, Miguel can make out three heartbeats, meaning all the Parkers are here. Probably downstairs, on the couch, Peter is flipping through the channels trying to find something, Mayday is in her playpen and MJ is fetching some snacks in the kitchen. Miguel can make it all out from sounds alone and he knows he should join them. But he's tired so he just flips himself around, staring at the ceiling next.
"Miguel? Is that you?" MJ's voice resonates as she climbs the stairs and Miguel only has to wait a few seconds before she joins him, pushing the door open.
"Thought I heard the sound of the portal... you okay there?"
"Hmm. Been better," mumbles Miguel. His eyes are closed again, that headache is definitely there now. And just like she can read his thoughts, MJ moves, in bed next. On top of him more precisely.
Miguel sighs, he knows that perfume, and he wraps his arms around MJ without thinking about it. He's glad when she presses her lips against his forehead.
"Aw look at you, long day?"
"Hmm." It's all Miguel can muster and he finally opens his eyes.
Mary Jane is beautiful, of course, she is, even more so on top of him with a soft smile on her face."I'm glad you're here. You look like you need to unwind..."
"I think I need a nap. Or two. And some food," muses Miguel. He's slightly distracted, by MJ pressed against him and her fingers gently tapping against his collarbone.
"Oh no, no, no... You need a drink. Or two. Yes!" MJ is beaming now. "You need to get drunk. Like I'm laughing at anything and can barely walk drunk."
"Mary Jane... it takes a lot to get me drunk."
"Oh, but you can get drunk, right? Just checking, your powers are very different than Peter so I'd figured..."
"No, I can get drunk.." Just as he repeats that Miguel sees the gears turning in MJ's head as she is thinking, planning, and looking incredibly stunning at that.
"Mary Jane, it wasn't a challenge."
"Oh baby," MJ giggles, Miguel can feel every single tremor of her body as she is still against him. "It is sooo a challenge, come on, we're taking you out, you need this."
"I... really?" Miguel frowns. "Clubs and bars are loud, and the music? The smell?"
"Oh come on, you can wear your earplugs, or better yet, I'll get us into the VIP section of some trendy club, so you're fine. Only the finest for my boys."
"Hmm..." Miguel is still not convinced, this is nice, he and MJ are in bed, why would they move?
"Come on, we'll check with Gwen, she owes me for that shopping session, and she likes babysitting Mayday. Peter could use a night out too... Come on," MJ leans in, this time she presses a kiss on the corner of his mouth and just like that, she's got Miguel full's attention. "Come on Miguel, I'll wear that red dress you like."
"... The one with the really thin straps?"
"Yep, the short one. The one that makes me look like I never even had a kid."
"... Fine, I'll go shower, you can use my watch to call Gwen."
"Ha, ha! Yes!" MJ drops a quick kiss on his lips, slides his watch out of his wrist, and then she moves. "Peter! We're going out! Our boyfriend needs it!" She announces rushing downstairs, only for Miguel to laugh, his headache fading in the distance.
(FROZEN MARGARITA)
MJ was not kidding about that VIP section and Miguel knows he's never been in a place so classy to get drunk. Even Peter rolls his eyes a little bit as the first drink of the night he's being served to them. By a waiter in a full costume, telling them to enjoy the experience.
Their table is on the corner of the VIP section, the music isn't too loud, and Peter looks too good in a see-through shirt and high-waisted pants, he's got one hand over MJ's knee and that dress is working wonders.
"Come on boys, let's drink!" MJ taps her hands together and then pushes the glasses in front of them. Miguel could argue that the drink is too large but neither he nor Peter have a regular metabolism.
"Okay," Peter to his right chuckle. "I don't know what you said to her, but I know that look, we better drink up and fast. Because she was not asking."
"Oh, I know," Miguel shrugs, from his middle seat.
"Hey, we're here to help Miguel unwind, and this is part of the process, come on!" adds MJ, and Miguel finds himself following her lead, reaching for the straw.
The drink is cool and refreshing and he is not thinking about HQ, or the multiverse, or anything of that nature. Especially not when MJ downs half of her drink in one go, while he and Peter are sipping slowly.
"Damn," comments Peter. "Is it hot? Is it scary?"
"It's hot," answers Miguel, eyeing MJ and her neckline.
"Aw thank you, I try my best. But please, keep telling me how hot I am. It never hurts."
"Is that all it takes?" Peter jokes. "A drink and telling you how good you look?"
"Peter Benjamin Parker!" MJ fake gasps. "Are you implying that I am easy?" MJ slides closer to Miguel to talk to her husband and so does Peter, Miguel finds himself smiling, knowing he's got the best spot.
"Well... I don't like the implication of that question, but I never got any problem getting you to bed... how about you Miguel?"
"Hmm?" Miguel abandons his straw. "No problem here either."
"Guys relax..." MJ laughs and finishes her drink the next second. "I know I'm a slut but I'll tell you a secret."
MJ leans in and they do too, they're all so close now, so close that Miguel can see the faint scar on Peter's nose, as well as the shine of MJ's lipgloss.
"I'm only a slut when Spider-Man is involved," concludes MJ with a wiggle of her eyebrows.
(TEQUILA, SHOTS)
"Oh... we're doing shots?" Peter is the first one to notice the waiter coming back. Miguel turns his head and frowns, when did MJ order more alcohol? He has no idea, all he has done those past few minutes is drink, and give very intense stares to his partners.
And a few touches here and then, as well as kisses: on Peter's Adam apple, on MJ's shoulder, in the shell of Peter's ear... He doesn't know about getting drunk, but the proximity is killing him slowly and he's not sure he cares about the fact that they're in a public space.
"Yes, we are!" confirms MJ. "Miguel goes first of course!"
"Of course, Miguel goes first," repeats Miguel.
"Peter, you hold on to this lime." MJ takes a perfectly cut slice and she places it in Peter's mouth. His next laugh is muffled. "And the salt goes...here," MJ smirks as she pours salt on her collarbone. And then both straps of her dress slip off her shoulders. Miguel knows he makes a sound at that sight, not the kind of sound one should make in public, but he doesn't care.
"You know what to do, right, Miguel?"
"Fuck yeah."
It's simple really. First, he licks the salt off Mary Jane's skin. She shivers against him and she watches him with lidded eyes the whole time. Any sane man would give her anything she wants just for this look and this looks alone, and he knows he would too. He thinks about it as he drinks the tequila shot as quickly as he can. The tequila is of the good kind, but still, the kickback is awful.
But Peter is here, lime in his mouth. And it's ridiculous, really, Miguel would roll his eyes if he was watching the scene unfold. But he is not, the logical thing to do is to press his lips to Peter's as he sucks on the lime. The bitter juice flows in his mouth and appeases his tongue, not just that, but the faint taste of Peter too. When he moves from Peter's mouth, Peter spits the lime out, face a bit red.
"Holy shit, that was hot," declares the Parker.
"Yes," confirms MJ. "Let's do more shots."
(CHAMPAGNE)
Around the fourth or the fifth shot, Miguel has absolutely no idea, they start kissing. It's inevitable, Miguel doesn't know how they managed to resist for so long. It's the only reason why he's currently cupping Peter's face and kissing him back softly and with purpose. Peter needs to know how good he looks right now, and how lucky Miguel is to be with him at this second.
Peter moans against him, and Miguel can feel the Parker's hands fumbling with his shirt. Peter undoes the first button, and the second, and then he pulls back. They're both panting and there is a thin strip of spit connecting their mouths. Miguel must be drunk because the next logical thing in his mind is to wipe it away with his tongue.
"Miguel! You can not do that," mumbles Peter completely red now.
"Oh, he can," Miguel blinks and turns to MJ as she is watching the whole scene. "And that was something... you need to kiss me like that too, both of you actually."
"Well come here."
"Smooth, but first... champagne?"
Miguel has no idea when the waiter came back their way, but there is indeed champagne at their table and MJ is handing him a glass next. He downs it easily, the bubbles fizzle on his tongue and he gives Mary Jane just three seconds. Three seconds to empty her glass, put it down, and turn to him with a smile.
After that, Miguel slides in her direction, smashing their lips together. He gives her the attention she deserves, more than happy to taste the champagne on her tongue as well.
(PINA COLADA)
"Why oh why is my drink in a pineapple? Oh, who cares, it's good!" That's Peter's claim as he takes a sip of his next drink, his head falling on Miguel's shoulder. Miguel can not help but laugh at that sight: Peter is drunk all right. He's not even attempting to sit on the leather properly, using Miguel as support and as a seat.
There's some pink on his cheeks, some of MJ's gloss on his lips and when he turns with Miguel next, letting go of his straw with a very loud noise, he giggles. Like an actual schoolgirl.
It's hard to believe he is one of the strongest men Miguel has ever met.
"You okay there, Parker?"
"Yes, no... oh I think MJ is calling us."
Miguel follows Peter's finger and he finds Peter's wife and his girlfriend in the middle of the tiny dancefloor of the VIP section. There is a total of three people, including MJ, and she's waving in their direction, indicating the floor in front of her.
They are needed.
"She wants to dance, but you take this one Miggy, I don't think I can stand at this point."
"Alright... you are going to be fine, right?"
"Yeah, yeah, super duper fine, it's just a pina colada, stop worrying, I can handle it. Heck, if I can handle a two-story building falling on me, I can handle anything!"
"That you can."
"Aw, now gimme a kiss and go dance with the wife, thank you."
Miguel can do nothing but obey. And even he does a double-take as he finally stands up. Is he lighter? Is the world blurrier? Are the colors a bit dimmer? He has no clue, he blinks, focusing on the particular blue of MJ's eyes and he finds his way to her.
"There you are handsome, come on, it's a good night." MJ smiles and she's already wrapping both arms around Miguel's neck, still moving to the sound of the music.
"How do you still sound so coherent?" Miguel marvels, MJ leads and he has no choice but to follow. He satisfies himself by pressing his open palms to her hips, the fabric is soft, not just, MJ is so close, he can feel, hear, and smell all of her. It's made worse (or is it better?) by the alcohol.
"What do you mean?"
"I'm pretty sure Peter is ready to head home and you're still dancing."
"Hey, he's weak and while he was saving the world over and over again... I used my twenties to build an actual tolerance to alcohol."
"Hmm, that explains that," muses Miguel, using his most serious tone, and then he spins Mary Jane. That earns him another smile, as she presses herself back to him the next second.
"And you, Miguel O'Hara, how did you use your twenties?"
"Well, Miss Watson, as the youngest of us three, I'm still living them."
"Oh, shut up, I'm only two years older than you!" MJ protests, a hard thing to do with a smile. "And what do you want to hear Miguel? I made some bad decisions, some even worse but..."
"But?"
"You and Peter?"
"Hmm?"
"Best decision I have ever made."
(WHISKY, NEAT)
There's more dancing, Peter eventually joins them, bouncing around the place, with no real rhythm until Mary Jane tells him to stop and shows him how to do it. He's got some moves, not as much as Miguel or MJ, but it's all good.
They even make their three-person dance work and Miguel only abandons the couple for a few seconds, to order himself a glass of whisky. It seems to be fitting and when he turns back, glass empty, it's to find Peter all wrapped around MJ, slouching and posture completely wrong, the redhead laughing.
"Okay, that's it, we are going home," declares MJ.
"Are we?" asks Miguel.
"Well considering the fact he just told a few people he is Spider-Man, I'd say yes, let's go!"
"Really Parker?" Miguel rolls his eyes, he wants to be upset but there's a bright smile on his face as he helps Mary Jane support Peter.
It takes some tweaking but in the end, Peter is in the middle, one arm over MJ's shoulders and the other over Miguel's as they drag him out of the club. In any other instance, Miguel would realize he can carry Peter on his own. Or just suggest to just portal them home. But it's all good and outside, Peter whistles, taking a deep breath as they start walking down the streets, in no particular distraction.
"Are we headed home?" asks Peter.
"Yeah, you are wasted my friend, and as much as I love you, I'm not holding your head if you decide to vomit," replies MJ.
"Hey! That only happened once," argues Peter.
"Did it?" wonders Miguel.
"Yes," Peter makes a face. "I was about to suggest ice cream, or some food in general, you know, to help with all the alcohol in our system.
"Hmm Mary Jane, I hate to say it, he's got a point, it would help."
"True..."
"Okay Peter, what are you thinking?"
"Hmm..." He looks around. "I know a place, not too far from here, they should still be opened, come on, this way, chop chop!"
"Babe? Maybe tone down the ordering around or Miguel and I will ditch you on the next doorstep and go home. Without you."
"And have some good old adult fun. Without you," adds Miguel, smirk on his face.
"Adult fun? Without me?" Peter is loud, annoyingly loud but Miguel wouldn't have it any other way. "You wouldn't dare, not when it's my favorite kind of fun."
"We would, we are so good at it Peter."
"So good."
"I know, I've seen you two, even helped sometimes. But guys, I'll be good, promise, sooooo good."
"Yeah yeah, tell us where to go next," MJ doesn't tease her husband even more and she and Miguel exchange a long look as Peter babbles about this amazing place he knows.
Once again, Miguel can not even be mad, he's exactly where he should be. His migraine is long forgotten, he might have a hangover coming his way.
But honestly? He doesn't mind.