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He just looked a bit lonely.
You had no clue how Peter had managed to find a two-bedroom in New York that actually had double beds in your price range, but he’d done it somehow. You’d lived together the past couple of months now and whilst he’d seemed a bit stressed at the beginning, he had eventually gotten used to the pair of you finally living together - he seemed happy. Yet as you tiptoe into his room to check on him you can see that even passed out he’s somehow still exhausted, sprawled out almost uncomfortably as if he’d thrown himself in without a care of actually sleeping well.
You’d developed a habit of checking on him when he’d come back from patrol - it wasn’t his fault the window he sneaked in through was just as squeaky as the front door. You’d wait patiently for him to go to bed before edging towards his doorway in the dark, making sure he wasn’t injured or too upset.
Tonight it’s neither of those things - thank God. Instead he just looks lonely, his face not portraying peace despite being out completely, his lungs delivering gentle, steady and regular breaths. He’s out like a light but you feel like if he was awake he’d be asking for comfort, a head on your shoulder as you watch a movie or a quiet request for a hug.
You get an idea but it’s…unorthodox.
At the end of the day you were friends, best friends really. Best friends who lived together and spent every minute outside of work together, who definitely hadn’t been feeling a sort of change in atmosphere recently that implied maybe more than friends was on the table. You were each other’s emotional rocks and he had a habit of taking care of you like a boyfriend would if you were sick or sad, in ways even some of your dates had said were a bit strange.
There’d been so many events, some small and some large that had made you wonder, daydream and consider what it might be like if you went that extra step. How much further could you push it until one of you caved?
He makes a noise in his sleep, a quiet grunt, and moves from lying onto his side to on his back and it breaks you out of your thoughts. He still looks uncomfortable, maybe even more so now. Maybe it’s the blanket of the night that persuades you to do it, the idea that in the darkness and the early hours things can just go unsaid and remain that way in the morning. Maybe it’s the fact that what you really want is asleep right in front of you, with nothing there to stop you.
Like a magnet, you feel drawn to the bed. Carefully, you lift the comforter gently from the bed but not his body so as not to wake him and you slide in next to him. Your breath is held the entire time begging to whoever is in control of this world to just let you have this one thing, to not wake him up whilst you’re getting in. The imagined awkwardness of him waking up now spurs you on further as eventually your legs lie flat mere millimetres away from his, close enough to feel the heat emanating from him but not close enough to stir him. Turning towards him, you end up on your side with your head on his shoulder. Closing your eyes, you wrap one arm around his chest and let yourself go limp - faking sleep. You know he rouses easily but as you concentrate on your breathing, it takes him a minute or two to feel your presence.
You know he’s awake when his breathing halts. The muscle under your face stiffens before a light touch that you’re not even sure if you’re imagining trails down the side of your face. You find yourself suddenly holding back a smile, until very carefully he starts to sit up and rolls your face to first lie flat off his shoulder before one of his hands finds your hip and rolls you over to face away from him.
This is why you hadn’t wanted to appear awake. Pete asking you to leave honestly probably would have hurt a bit more than you would have wanted it to - you’d only wanted to help. Still feigning sleep, you fidget in your new position to get comfortable. The moment you still, you reassure yourself that at least Peter’s bed is softer than yours so you probably will get a good night's sleep tonight. You’re working on emptying your thoughts as you wait for sleep when a pair of arms sneak around your waist, holding you almost like a child would hold their favourite toy. His fingers ghost their way under your top and his thumb brushes back and forth methodically in comfort.
Now that he isn’t facing you, you let out a grin on your face without restraint. The reassurance that you’d done the right thing washes through you head to toe like a wave that makes you feel warm and relaxed and you can feel yourself falling and falling as you drift back to sleep. The last thing you register before falling asleep is a light kiss on the back of your shoulder and the feeling of Peter relaxing behind you.