„What would you like now? A dinner, a bath, or… me?"

Peter gagged and turned off the DVD. Note to self: do not trust Harry with porn. Hentai, Harry, really? As if Peter hadn't been depressed enough as it was, he couldn't have a sad and lonely jerkoff in peace now. He still couldn't believe what happened. This shouldn't have happened. It didn't happen to him. Ever.

MJ was so delighted she actually kept smiling the entire time, even when Peter didn't leave her a tip (yes, douchey, but he was bitter); she said that his failure was rewarding enough. Wade and his friend took off soon after Peter's seduction fiasco, probably because of guilt. Or discomfort caused by Peter's pathetic longing stares. Or something.

Gwen tried to be supportive, but her kindness was drown out by MJ's vicious glee and Peter's own misery. Getting drunk and going home alone to jerk off when he planned on something completely opposite hadn't happen to him since… ever, actually. He was completely at a loss, and borrowing porn from his roommate seemed like a good idea at the time, but Harry failed him too.

Peter groaned and hid his face in the pillow, flapping his feet like an angry child. Why, why, why?! Why would this happen to him?! It was almost as horrible as getting his first camera and breaking it accidentally the same day when he was in the third grade. Actually, it was even worse, because Wade was unbearably hot and Peter had a very vivid imagination.

He could imagine everything he wanted to do to that body. He wanted to undo Wade with his bare hands; he wanted to suck him dry and make him scream as he was getting him hard again to ride him into the next year. He could almost feel the marred skin on the tips of his fingers, he could almost taste the sweat on his lips, the stretch and burn- Well, at least he wouldn't be needing that porn after all, which only made his sad and lonely jerkoff sadder; coming way too fast to thoughts of someone Peter saw briefly one time wasn't exactly his style.

He was about to go to sleep, too angry at himself and the world to even wash up, when he got a text from Gwen, asking if he was alright. "Peachy," he replied, ready to toss the phone away, when it started ringing.

"What? I'm fine, Gwen, do you expect me to be crying here, eating ice cream and watching The Notebook?"

"I expected you to be jerking off to Harry's porn like the sad and lonely failure you are."

"Mary?! Why do you have Gwen's phone? Don't tell me, please, do not tell me, you got laid when I hadn't. I will die in the pool of my own tears."

"I wish," she muttered with a bitter chuckle. "She left her jacket at the bus stop."

Peter would snort in triumph if her voice didn't sound so… down. "Are you alright, MJ?"

"I'm drunk, tiger. And I feel sorry for you, so I don't feel sorry for myself."

Peter hummed in understanding. He knew Mary Jane had a crush on Gwen; probably everyone except Gwen knew that. Their little miss Stacy could be very oblivious for someone so smart and focused. Maybe that was her problem, she was too focued for her own good, and on the wrong things, too.

He and Mary, they didn't talk much after the break up, and when they did, it was always full of suppressed guilt and bitter resentment. Peter wasn't even sure if he knew how to talk to her anymore. He should – they used to be friends. But if their friendship didn't seem to matter when Peter was drunkenly making out with someone whose face he couldn't even remember, why would it matter now? But maybe, just maybe, it was time to try and see.

"Do you hate me, MJ?"

"Not anymore," she admitted after a beat. "I'm not sure if I ever have. Sure, you hurt me, unsurprisingly so, but I've known you for a long time, Peter. We've been friends since high school, and I still remember the times I was able to hurt you too."

"You never did, though. Not really. And you did give in in the end."

"Yeah, and look where it got me."

Peter smiled, even though MJ couldn't see it. Maybe because she couldn't. Peter used to be crazy about her; his huge crush started on the first day of high school and died as soon as they got together. That was partly why he cheated on her – to give her a reason to get out from him before he would end up hurting her a lot more. It seemed like a good idea at the time to make her hate him and avoid an actual conversation about his feelings; faster and more efficient, if you didn't care about your reputation.

"We weren't good for each other anyway," Mary said after a while, sniffling. "Just like I always said."

Peter clenched the phone in his hand. He really was a scumbag, wasn't he. "I'm sorry, MJ. I never told you that."

Mary chuckled and Peter imagined her flipping her beautiful hair for some reason. "Now there, tiger, what did I say. You're the one we're feeling sorry for tonight. Because, you know, if you remember, you totally got dumped. Like a loser. An ugly one. Who smells really bad and-"

"Okay, okay, enough," Peter said around a laugh. "Jesus, you really know how to add salt to the wound. I still don't believe it."

"Maybe he isn't into dudes."

"That would be boring. Maybe he has chlamydia."

"Or four kids to raise by himself."

"He may be a priest."

"It wouldn't stop you, would it?"

"Not for a second."

MJ laughed wholeheartedly, in that way of hers that ended with a unsophisticated snort, that always made Peter think about how much he adored her. He wouldn't let himself think about it too much for the past year but he missed his friend. MJ was like the sun; bright and scorching, with everyone gravitating around her, wanting bask in her light for just a moment. Peter didn't deserve her after what he'd done. And yet, the silence between them in that moment, wasn't awkward at all.

"Well, come by the bar tomorrow to pick up Gwen's phone so I can gloat. Good night, Peter."

"See you tomorrow, MJ. Oh, and just so you know, I had jizz all over my hands the entire time we were talking."

"Die in a fire."

Yes, that was oddly satisfying.