#soft sweaters

It didn’t stop.

Derek was downright nesting, renovating the loft until it was home-y, and Peter loved to spend time there. He was there more often than he was in his own apartment.

It was partly due to the fact that Derek displayed a surprising amount of taste when it came to interior decoration but mostly it was because of Derek himself.

He seemed so completely at ease in his own space, never wearing those tight jeans or shirts, always clad in something soft and warm, and Peter just wanted to cuddle up to him.

Peter had always been attracted to Derek, but he had told himself it was only about sex. He only wanted to sleep with Derek and even that only so he could piss off Talia.

Now, he wasn’t so sure anymore. Derek was still attractive, maybe even more so than before, but Peter didn’t only want to sleep with him anymore. He fantasized about that regularly, still, but there were also the sweet little moments, where he came home and kissed Derek sweetly, where they just cuddled up on the couch while watching a movie, where Derek carded his fingers through Peter’s hair and where they slept in on a lazy day, naked and comfortable in bed, Derek spooned up behind him.

It was worrying.

Peter could deal with being sexually attracted to Derek, he had been all his life after all, but this new dimension, where he was picturing them being grossly domestic, was new and Peter didn’t know how to handle that.

Derek didn’t help at all. He continued to buy sweaters too big for him, pairing them with sweatpants when he was at home and Peter wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. The day Derek stopped wearing shoes and socks at home, Peter thought he might die.

The bare feet peeking out from the grey sweatpants just added to the overall cozy feeling Derek lately gave off and Peter had a hard time handling it.

The time he came to the loft to find Derek curled up on the couch, blanket over his lap, hot chocolate in his hand and book propped up on his thighs was the day he couldn’t stop the low whine he let out.

“Peter,” Derek immediately said and looked at him. “You’ve been strange lately. What’s going on?” he asked, and he seemed honestly concerned and Peter just didn’t have any defenses against this soft Derek.

He was sure if Derek ever bought glasses he would lose his mind.

“You look cozy,” Peter said with more accusation than he had intended, and Derek frowned at him before something sad settled over his face.

“Is that what’s bothering you? That I’m settling down?” he asked, and he even sounded sad, like he honestly believed Peter would ever begrudge him that.

Peter might have wanted to keep his attraction and wishes to himself, but he couldn’t allow Derek to believe this for one second.

“It’s bothering me that you’re settling down without me,” Peter shortly gave back, and Derek’s eyebrows shot up.

“But I’m not?” he asked, tilting his head adorably and Peter sighed.

“Derek, it’s okay,” Peter said, tiredly rubbing his forehead. He really didn’t want to have this conversation.

“Peter,” Derek said, demanding his attention. “I’m only settling down because you’re here. Because you’re right here with me. I don’t know if you’ve noticed yet, but you’re spending more nights here than in your own apartment.”

“Yeah, in the guest room,” Peter gave back, and he couldn’t even manage to sound mean, he was still too surprised Derek even had a guest room.

“It’s not a guest room. It’s your room. The guest room is at the end of the hall,” Derek explained and put the mug down, before pulling his sleeves over his hands.

Peter’s hand twitched, because he wanted so desperately to reach out but instead he clenched it into a fist.

“I didn’t know that,” Peter admitted, and Derek smiled softly at him.

“I see that now. So instead of keeping wondering why you didn’t sell your apartment yet, I’m going to ask. Why don’t you move in with me here?”

“What—,” Peter started but had to clear his throat before he could continue, too many emotions chocking him down. “What are you saying? What are you offering?”

“Everything you want to have,” Derek earnestly said, and he looked so open to Peter, so hopeful that he couldn’t help but go over to the couch.

“That’s a lot to offer up, pup,” Peter said and gently pushed his hand through Derek’s hair, surprised to find that it was just as soft as it looked.

“Considering how long we waited, I don’t think it is,” Derek gave back, and he seemed so sure about this that Peter couldn’t do anything but lean down and kiss Derek lightly, nothing more than a quick brush of their lips.

“You might be right there,” he whispered against Derek’s lips and smiled at the shiver that went through Derek.

Derek moved to the side suddenly, opening up space between himself and the arm rest of the couch and Peter slid in without hesitation. Derek settled against his chest, Peter’s arm around his shoulder’s and he covered them both with the blanket before he went back to his book.

It was painfully domestic, Derek reading while cuddled up to Peter, just like in his dreams, and Peter pressed a kiss to Derek’s head. Derek hummed, clearly pleased and he went even heavier against Peter.