Spiderman: Venom

Gwen returned with a wide grin plastered on her face. She paid no attention to Poison but made arrangements to visit Felicia after they had settled MJ. Felicia had been understanding but refused to visit until the situation was resolved.

Peter had brewed coffee, and MJ sat curled up on the large couch in the shared living area, wrapped snugly in her blanket.

"Fel's okay. She's a bit annoyed, but, uh, MJ, we're here for you," Gwen said as Peter set a steaming cup of coffee in front of her. "We can go grab your phone and your stuff if you want."

"No, it's fine." MJ exhaled deeply before speaking. "I need to handle this myself. If Peter comes, it'll only make things worse."

Gwen nodded thoughtfully. "So? I'll go instead." She shot Peter a glance, and he gave a small nod. "I've, uh, been working out. Felicia insists I do it to stay in shape, so I, uh…"

MJ shook her head slowly. "Harrison won't care." Her gaze dropped to the cup in her hands. "He doesn't care who shows up or what their reasons are." She sighed heavily. "I just don't want anyone getting hurt."

Peter moved to sit beside her, leaning against her slightly. "MJ, I don't care about him, Flash, or anything they say or think. I care about you." He reached out and gently took her hand. "You don't have to face this alone. I know how hard it is."

"Flash bullying you was my fault," she suddenly admitted. "I told him, uh, that we were friends, and, uh, I guess he got jealous." Panic flashed across her face as she sensed Peter trying to pull away.

"I never knew what he was doing, and I definitely didn't ask him to do it. Everything he did was behind my back. But, um, I'm so sorry." Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she shook her head. "I was so scared. Everyone adored him, and nobody cared what he did or who he hurt."

Peter froze in place, grappling with the weight of her confession. Flash's bullying had made high school unbearable for him, isolating him from others. He had few, if any, friends, and once Flash started targeting him, everyone else kept their distance.

Even Gwen had faced a few harsh remarks from Flash's group, though her father's status had shielded her from the worst of it. Hearing MJ take responsibility so bluntly left him stunned.

Did he even want to forgive her? More importantly, did he hold her accountable? The more he thought about it, the more he realized he didn't. If she had actively encouraged Flash to go after him, then, sure, she'd be out the door. But could he truly blame her for Flash's actions? Peter had never believed in "guilt by association" and wasn't about to start now.

"I just…" MJ hesitated. "My dad wanted it. Flash was sweet at first, you know? But then it started—the constant messages, always demanding to know where I was and who I was with. And then it escalated."

Neither Peter nor Gwen had known what Flash was like behind closed doors.

"He was controlling. I'm sure Harrison hit him. He had bruises sometimes, but if I brought it up, he'd yell at me." MJ let out a bitter laugh. "He yelled about a lot of things," she added, glancing at Peter, "mostly you."

"MJ, stop. Flash's behavior wasn't your responsibility. He made those choices himself. He targeted both of us, so, no—stop blaming yourself," Peter said firmly. He leaned closer, and she broke down, crying as he wrapped his arms around her. "It's okay. I don't blame you."

MJ wiped her eyes as Gwen passed her a tissue from her bag. She nodded her thanks and blew her nose. "Sorry."

Peter shook his head. "Don't apologize." He stood up. "I'll fix us something to eat—or maybe pizza?"

Gwen slid into Peter's spot to hug MJ. "Pizza sounds good. This was supposed to be a moving-in party, after all." She left the thought unfinished. None of them had realized how much MJ had endured, as much as Peter, if not more.

She wants him. Smell it. Gwen caught a faint scent as she sniffed discreetly, realizing she could.

MJ's fear, her guilt, and even her subtle arousal were clear to Gwen. She also picked up on Peter's heightened adrenaline, his controlled exterior masking his anger.

Kill her, eat her, Poison's voice hissed in her mind.

Shut the hell up. Right now, Gwen snapped mentally.

Mate her too. Poison's tone shifted. If Gwen wouldn't listen, it could at least offer more palatable suggestions.

That, Gwen mused as she hugged MJ, is a far better idea.

"We could still have it. I mean, it's never too early for pizza," Peter suggested, and MJ glanced at Gwen, who nodded.

"Pete, go grab them from that new place," Gwen suggested. Peter agreed without hesitation, sensing he wasn't needed.

He grabbed his jacket and headed out.

Gwen watched the door close behind him and waited until he was out of earshot.

"MJ, you have to tell him."

MJ sat up straighter, frowning. "I, uh…"

"Don't even try that," Gwen interrupted. "I know you like him, and he was awake when you had your little, uh, moment."

MJ flushed a deep red and tried to squirm away, but Gwen held her firmly under the blanket.

"Look, I don't mind. Pete and I talked, and he might be okay with it, too. But you need to be honest with him."

MJ snorted. "What? So he can be happy with you while I sit on the sidelines? No, Gwen. Not now."

"MJ, I'm giving you permission—literal permission—to take him to bed when he gets back. Flash is a jerk, so screw him, screw his dad." Gwen cupped MJ's face, forcing her to meet her gaze. "Tell Pete you love him, then go after what you want for once." Gwen leaned forward and kissed her. The sweet taste surprised her, but she didn't dwell on it.

MJ struggled against Gwen's surprising strength. Gwen let her go, leaning back with a satisfied grin as MJ coughed and sputtered. "Gwen, what the hell?"

Gwen shrugged nonchalantly. "I like girls. I'm just checking if Pete's open to the idea of us having a more flexible relationship. So, go for it."

MJ bolted upright, clutching the blanket. "What? No. Gwen, are you serious? I'm going to shower, and you better not say a word to Pete."

Gwen had to stifle a laugh as she watched MJ rush away.

I get the kiss, but seriously? You scared her off.

Hmph, too slow. She wants him, you want her. Eat, drink, then fun—scooshies, whizzes, and splats for us!

People aren't like you. We have emotions and need time to sort through them. I know you get excited when you want something, but sometimes you push too hard. Try being patient for once.

Boring, boring, boring. We hate patience. Don't be boring!

Gwen let out a resigned sigh. I have drinks.

Hmph, fine. As long as they taste good.

She remembered the ingredients she had picked up earlier for making mocktails. With Poison finally quiet, she retreated to her home to get things ready for when Peter returned.

MJ sat at the large dining table while Gwen carried out a bright green pitcher.

"I made mock-geritas," Gwen announced, setting down the pale green drink. "Yeah, back to work tomorrow, so no alcohol for me. But trust me, they're good." If her chemistry skills were anything to rely on, the drinks would be a hit.

Peter eventually arrived with the pizza. They'd discovered a cozy family-owned spot that made fresh pizzas from scratch. Pricey but worth every penny. Peter had chosen plain pepperoni, and the slices glistened with melted, bubbly cheese.

Gwen shoved an entire slice into her mouth, causing MJ to stare. "Whuh?" Gwen mumbled through a mouthful of food.

"We're working out; it's fine," Peter joked as he grabbed a slice of his own. He raised it in a playful toast. "To you, MJ."

MJ smiled and lifted her slice in return.

Damn, this pizza's amazing, they both thought.

After pouring drinks for everyone, Gwen took on the role of host. "So?" she began, "Gonna chicken out?" MJ nearly choked on her drink, coughing loudly.

"What?" MJ shot her a sharp glare.

"I said no."

She's lying. You can smell it. She wants to mate. Yes, yes.

"Let's cut to the chase," Gwen said bluntly. "You've had feelings for him forever. Just admit it so we can all move forward. Fine, I'll go first—Pete and I are dating. We've been sleeping together—a lot—and, uh, I think I like you too, MJ. You know, in that way. Why not make it a threesome?"

Even Peter looked stunned. They'd discussed having a more open relationship, but Gwen's feelings for MJ were news to him.

"Bi, Pete. And yes, it's been on my mind. Living together, well, I don't want it to get awkward," Gwen admitted.

"Uh-huh," MJ muttered quietly, staring at her drink.

"Awkward? You mean admitting we're having sex, that you like MJ, and suggesting she date me so we can have a threesome—awkward?" Peter said, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, quit being dramatic, Pete. We're grown-ups. So what? Would you rather sit around feeling sorry for yourself over unspoken feelings, or face it and move on?"

Peter clenched his jaw, glaring at Gwen. "Now's really not the time for this, is it? Gwen, maybe you need a timeout."

"It's, um, warm in here, isn't it?" MJ said, her face flushed as she fanned herself.

"Not really. The air-conditioning's on," Peter said. "Gwen?"

"Nah, it's hawt!" MJ exclaimed, trying to set her glass on the table but missing. Peter lunged and caught it just in time.

"Woo, nice save, tiger!" MJ cheered. "Still hot, though," she said as she began pulling off her top.

Peter quickly turned away as her uncoordinated movements exposed the thin camisole she wore underneath. She didn't even seem to notice when it rode up, fully revealing her chest. Gwen quickly pulled it back down with a frown.

"Careful there, tiger. Someone might get the wrong idea," MJ giggled. Gwen glanced at Peter and shrugged.

"MJ, are you drunk?" Peter asked, narrowing his eyes at Gwen. Gwen sipped her drink and shrugged.

Peter picked up MJ's glass, sniffing it. It was just lemon and lime juice—heavily sweetened, sure, but nothing out of the ordinary. He blamed the extra sugar on Poison.

MJ swayed as she sat. "Pete, you hurt me. Hurt!" she slurred. "We were best buds—the two amigos—and then, poof! You left me. With that jerk. And dumb me just let you."

She drained her glass. "And then, and then, you get a peek and nothing!" MJ lifted her breasts. "I mean, I would." She turned to Gwen. "Wouldn't you?" Sniffling, she asked, "Do you hate me, Pete?"

MJ reached for her drink again but missed, knocking over the pitcher instead. She giggled at the spreading mess. "Oops!"

Peter sprang into action. "Gwen, grab MJ some water. I'll clean this up."

He pulled out a massive roll of paper towels from the kitchen. His bulk purchase was proving handy.

Gwen crouched beside him. "I swear, Pete. It's just juice."

"Then what the hell's happening? Did Poison do something?"

Gwen took the glass from Peter, sniffing it. It smelled like lemon, lime, and the other ingredients she'd added. Nothing seemed off. Even she had drunk some, and everything had tasted normal. Something wasn't right, but she had no clue what it was.

"I don't—" Gwen began, but a loud crash interrupted her.

A moment later, MJ's sharp cry of pain was followed by several heavy thuds and panicked shouting.