Title: three thousand and six hundred seconds.
Fandom: MCU—Spider-Man: Far From Home.
Characters: MJ/Peter.
Prompt: Screw.
Rating: Teen.
Length: 766.
Content warnings: References to injuries.
Author’s notes: Set after the boss fight in Far From Home. Also written for hc_bingo’s "job-related trauma" prompt.
Summary: Peter’s hurt, so MJ tries to help him.


"Are we just going to ignore the fact you’re kind of all bruised up?"

Peter considers that for a moment, his eyes widening dramatically. Inhaling hurts. It’s clear he tries not to do that, keeping his breaths shallow. "Yeah," he says, pursing his lips in thought. Then he nods. "Yeah, I figure we should. Ow."

MJ rolls her eyes. She sits in front of him in his hotel room, her legs crossed beneath her on the bed. Peter looks bruised and broken and very, very bloody to the point that she thinks he’s going to pass out from the way the red stains his palms. Is his middle finger broken? She tilts her head as she tries to observe it without touch.

Peter clears his throat and winces, murmuring his pain.

She can’t help but tilt her head defiantly to the side and cock her brow a touch arrogantly. "Does ignoring it hurt?"

He hums. He shakes his head before he lets himself nod. "Yep," he says, inhaling long and sharply. Another wince. "Yep, it hurts. It hurts a lot."

"So, how does this Spider-Man thing work? Like… do you heal? Are you going to be… okay? Do I need to take you to the hospital?"

He shakes his head vehemently at the last question. "No, no," he says, shaking his good hand in front of her. She eyes his fingers and notes how all five of them look solid, definitely bruised and skin scraped, but solid. Nothing broken on his left hand. "No," he says again, closing his eyes and licking his bloodied and cracked lips. He looks pale in his Spider-Man suit, the mask sitting loose and sad against his thigh. "I’m fine."

"You don’t look fine."

He smiles lopsidedly. "It’s just a scratch."

"It’s not just a scratch."

"It is, it is," he says, eyes still closed. He inhales and squeezes his eyes once more, and brings his right hand along with his broken finger to his chest.

"Where else does it hurt?"

Peter merely hums as if he needs time to think it over. Opening one eye, she notes the way his mouth curves upward. "Here." His fingertips brush against his bruised cheek.

Pressing her lips together, she looks at the pale, bruised skin of his cheek. She leans close to him and kisses his cheek. "Okay," she says, pressing her lips together. "That was lame."

"Here," he says, ignoring her. With a press of his hand, he touches his chin. When she kisses that spot, he smiles before he clears his throat and closes his eyes momentarily. Feigning a look of pain—or a burst of it, given he’s in so much pain right now—he presses his fingers against the corner of his mouth. "Here, too."

MJ cocks her brow at him. "You seem to be hurt in the one area."

"I took a bus to the face," he says.

Biting her bottom lip, she’s quick to peck the corner of his mouth. When she pulls away, she notes how he’s smiling.

"And here…" It takes him a moment before he brushes his fingers along his bottom lip. "Stings real bad."

MJ rolls her eyes. Scrunching up her face, she clears her throat and shuffles closer to him. Tilting her head upward, she watches him as he eyes her and smiles at her in a way that’s meant to be encouraging. It looks like a mutilated grimace. If this keeps his mind off of his pain… off of Mysterio…

Her heart hammers.

She’s quick to peck his mouth.

"Oh," he feigns a wince. "That almost worked…"

"If I do this, will you let me take you to the hospital?"

Peter presses his lips together. She can see the cogwheels in his head turn and the rolodex of excuses he’s already mapped out for such an occasion. The corners of her mouth droop down the longer he takes to answer.

After an inhale, he closes his eyes and nods. "Yes," he says quietly. When he opens his eyes, he nods again. "I will. But after an hour—and only if I’m still sore. Okay?"

"Okay," MJ nods. She bites her bottom lip and watches him for a moment. His brow’s lifted as he waits for her to reveal the cross of her fingers from around her back. "An hour. Sixty minutes. Three thousand and six hundred seconds. And if you’re still wincing, you’re going to the hospital."

He smiles, laughing softly. She notes his wince. "Okay, okay. Please, can you just kiss me already?"

MJ kisses him.