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You woke up with the sunrise, not because you normally did or you wanted to but because the blinds on your window broke three months ago and your stupid landlord has yet to come fix them. You groan quietly as you cover your eyes, trying to protect them from the light that was slowly, but surely becoming brighter in your white room. You think back to the night before, let out a small laugh and close your eyes again. Yesterday had been your twenty-first birthday and all of your friends told you they were busy with work or studying when you said you wanted to do something, except your best friend Peter, so the plan had been for the two of you to hang out and have a movie night at his apartment, but he had secretly planned a surprise party and invited all of your friends to celebrate. After a moment you realized... you didn't really remember a lot of the night, which you figured was probably to be expected, but you didn’t remember drinking a lot. You start to worry a bit and try to piece it together but stop after a minute or so, knowing Peter would’ve looked out for you all night had anything happened and that you could just call him and figure out exactly what happened. As the thought crosses your mind, you realize... there’s something weighing down the mattress and you can definitely feel someone or thing breathing behind you. As you slowly and carefully turn around to figure out what or who it may be, you think to yourself, well I’m not dead yet, so it really can’t be too bad, right?
Your instinct was correct because sleeping in your bed is Peter, sleeping on his stomach and with his face now right in front of yours. This wasn’t the first time you’d woken up next to Peter. You and Peter had been nearly inseparable since you were both 16 and Peter had blipped back, you had Peter’s old locker, so when he came back you caught him messing with the lock and thought he was trying to break in but it just turned out he didn’t know someone else had been using it. After a bit of a rough start, you two were constantly running into each other in classes, at your locker (for the first two months he kept going to your locker instead of his new one out of habit), and at your favorite bodega that was apparently also his favorite, you had actually hung out and hit it off surprisingly well and the rest is pretty much history.
Over the years, you and Peter had many movie nights that ended up being sleepovers because one of you would end up being too tired to make it back home or you had just straight up fallen asleep during the movie. To be fair, you had never slept in a bed together because you usually were watching movies in one of your living rooms, rather than in the bedroom, but you would always end up wrapped up together tightly on the couch in the mornings, or whenever you ended up waking up again. This however, was the first time you had actually woken up before Peter and actually looked at him.
You saw the way the sun hit his face and made it glow beautifully in the early morning light and how it brought out the light dusting of freckles across his nose. You were awestruck, to say the least, and your heart was fluttering in your chest. Before you realized what you were doing, you reached out a hand to trace the shape of Peter’s jaw but right before your finger could make contact, Peter’s eyes shot open. A panicked look made its way onto Peter’s face, but quickly dissolved as he realized it was only you. Peter gave you a soft, sleepy smile that quite honestly, melted your heart right there.
“Hmm g’morning, sunshine,” Peter mumbled out, face half pressed into the pillow under him and closed his eyes again.
“Morning, how’d you sleep?” you responded and pinched his cheek, shaking it a little to play off why your hand was by his face.
Peter scrunched up his face and grabbed your hand and pushed it away to make you stop. Peter yawned, propped his pillow up against the wall and sat up part way then gave a small half shrug and let out a groan as he stretched, “fine. Not long enough that’s for sure. What about you? How’s your head?” With the question, his eyebrows screwed together in a worried expression and he reached out brushing his thumb along your temple gently.
“My... head...? Actually it hurts a little now that you mention it... And I gotta be honest Pete, I don’t really remember most of last night. Was I okay? Did anything happen?” A flash of half-confusion, half-worry crossed your eyes as you tried to think back on the night but just kept drawing up fuzzy memories.
Peter let out a small chuckle and gave you one of the softest, most patient smile you think you had ever seen and dropped his hand, “it really wasn’t that bad, but it was kinda embarrassing. So after a few drinks, you were kinda... buzzed and found the roll of wrapping paper I had used for your presents, which you never opened by the way. Anyways, you wanted to have a sword fight and started hitting MJ with the roll and we thought it was pretty funny, MJ was trying to get you to stop and went around the couch to try and get away but you crawled on top of the couch and said that she, and I quote, ‘won’t be able to run forever’, stood on the back of the couch and... then immediately fell off and landed on your face.” Peter had rushed out the last sentence, probably trying to lessen the blow a bit. “It’s kind of a miracle you didn't break anything to be honest.”
You sat up and let out a burst of laughter, “honestly? Not shocked at all that sounds like something I’d do. The fact that it took me being intoxicated to do it is what’s surprising.” You started to laugh more at yourself before being hit with a realization, “wait... we’re at my apartment, not yours. Did you... leave the party to bring me home?” You turned to Peter and sat cross legged, tilting your head to one side slightly.
Peter’s face flushed and he gave you a smile that was a mix between embarrassment and guilt, “Maybe?”
“Peter! You should’ve just stayed! I would’ve been fine, I could’ve just sat on the couch and hung out or gone to sleep in your room!” You weren’t trying to sound ungrateful, but you felt a little guilty about Peter leaving the party, which was at his apartment after all, to bring you home.
“No, I was... I was worried about you having a concussion, you hit your head really hard... Also if you stayed there I would worry about the noises or you getting another drink or falling asleep and you can’t do either of those things with a concussion. I would’ve just shut us both up in my room to make sure you were okay.” While Peter was talking he grabbed one of your hands and began playing with your fingers. He bent each of your fingers and then flipped your hand over and traced the lines along your palm.
This was a common occurrence lately, thanks to you, you might add. A few months ago you and Peter had hung out, you watched a movie and he kept tapping his fingers on his legs and, well, it was distracting you, so you had grabbed his hand and laced your fingers with his. At the time Peter had frozen up a bit and to your relief, stopped tapping. Peter had stayed still for about a half hour longer before playing with your hands. He hadn’t told you this, but he was actually really glad you held his hand that day, he had been trying to work up the courage to get closer to you. Since then, if Peter was fidgety or nervous while you two were together he would grab your hand and play with it.
“Yeah but you missed out on the party that you threw. You invited friends that don’t live here anymore and ones we don’t get to see often and missed out on getting to hang out and catch up and-”
“No.” Peter had cut you off and squeezed the hand he was holding, “the whole point of throwing the party was to spend time with you and I got to do that. I honestly feel bad for everyone else there, they didn’t get to hang out with you much. Not that they didn’t have fun or anything, so don’t worry about that either. I mean, yeah it would’ve been fun to hang out with everyone again and celebrate but I’m fine with it just being us, that was the original plan anyway,” he said the last bit with a smile and a shrug while his face got a light tinge of pink to it.
“Uh, thank you Peter,” you didn't know what else to say besides that so you just moved over next to him, sat back against the wall, and squeezed his hand back while your own face started to redden a little as well.
“Mhm,” was the only response you got. You both sat in comfortable silence as he started rubbing small circles over your knuckles.
As you sat there with Peter, you started thinking about him and how much he meant to you. Peter was always there for you when you needed him and he also knew he could come to you if or when he needed something. Peter was your best friend and even with his crazy double life he always found time for you and didn't get tired of you always being around. As these thoughts crossed your mind, you felt your stomach flutter with butterflies and your cheeks flush as you realized... you liked Peter.
“I really was worried about you,” Peter muttered, interrupting your sudden realization, leaning over and laying his head on your shoulder.
You raised your eyebrows in surprise, laying your head against Peter’s and tried to play it cool while your heart was screaming happily in your chest. Also, why was your heart screaming like that? It’s not like it had been the first time Peter had ever said he worried about you, it was pretty normal actually, you were a clutz through and through.
“I wanted to make sure you’d be comfortable and didn’t want to end the party just because your clumsy so I brought you home. And I know it’s dangerous to sleep with a concussion, so that’s mostly why I stayed. I tried to stay up all night with you but must’ve fallen asleep at some point, so sorry. At least you woke up, right?”
“You’re so dumb Peter,” you said exasperated, “you’re all heart and no brain sometimes. Don’t get me wrong, I love and appreciate the sentiment but you should’ve just stayed and enjoyed yourself. I could’ve just gone and like hung out on the couch or in the kitchen or something, you didn’t have to leave.”
Peter rolled his eyes, pulled away a bit, turned his head, and looked down at you, “I you’re confused on who the dumb one is. You realize if you didn’t fall off the couch, we would’ve stayed right? Besides, like I said, the whole point was to spend time with you and I’m the one who got to do the most of that,” his tone was joking while he talked but a light blush still spread over Peter’s face, making you think he was slightly frustrated. Then he spoke again, “I invited them because I figured you’d want to celebrate with your friends, but I would’ve been fine if it actually was just us like normal.”
Your eyes grew wide at that and you whipped your head to the side and looked then looked up at him but then put your hands over your eyes and muttered, “Just please tell me it wasn’t embarrassing?”
“Well it wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever heard? Also I’m kinda glad both those things happened? Otherwise you wouldn’t have said what you did last night which would’ve been a downer.”
“Not helping, Pete.”
Peter reached out and grabbed both your hands, pulling them away from your face, putting them in his lap and squeezed them both before (somewhat) awkwardly scooting closer to you, “sorry, did you want help?”
With his question you locked eyes with Peter and licked your lips, nodding a fraction of an inch. With the small nod, Peter leaned closer and shot a quick glance at your lips before quietly asking, “can I kiss you?” Instead of answering you pushed forward and pressed your lips to his.
Kissing Peter wasn’t like the books and movies had described it. There wasn’t some Great Force pulling us together, there wasn’t sparks, it didn’t feel like a drink of water is a drought, whatever that meant. Kissing Peter felt soft. You didn’t know how else to think of it. Kissing Peter made you feel comforted and like this is what you should’ve been doing from the beginning. It made you feel safe and like everything was going right. You didn’t know if it was due to the fact that you were kissing your best friend or if it was because thats what Peter was. Peter was safe and comfortable and warm and all around, the best.
When the two of you broke apart, Peter licked his lips and smiled and mumbled a quiet, “worth the wait.”
You let out a surprised laugh and pulled back a little, “I’m sorry, what?”
Peter’s cheeks flushed a dark pink as he tried to make sense of what he said, “Last night when we got here that’s all you could talk about. Genuinely, you said you wanted to kiss me like three times but I wouldn’t let you because you had had alcohol and maybe a concussion”
You let your laughter die into quiet giggles and surged forward, pushing Peter back and pinning him to the bed, “that sure doesn’t sound like me, but I guess I’ll have to take your word for it. It was nice though, maybe delirious me knows whats up,” you gave Peter a wide grin and lowered yourself back down to kiss your best friend again.