#tasm drabble

You smiled as you heard the window open. This had become a common occurrence since you learned the truth about your boyfriend’s “night-time job”.

You heard the light, barely-there footsteps padding through the hallway, and then the bathroom door clicked shut.

He always showered when he got back from patrolling the city, spandex wasn’t a very breathable material after all.

You patiently waited for him, mindlessly watching the eighties movie on the TV. You didn’t really know what it was about, but it looked like something Peter would like so you had kept it on while waiting for him to come home.

He always insisted that you didn’t need to stay up for him, but you always did anyway. You didn’t have to get up all too early, so you could afford staying awake to wait for him. And even if you couldn’t, the way his eyes lit up when he saw you would’ve made it worth it.

Tonight, though, his eyes were trained on the floor as he shuffled into the living room. You didn’t speak: this had happened before, and experience had taught you that it was best to let Peter find his own way to you.

As always, he did. Heavily, he flopped down beside you on the couch, tipping sideways until his head was on your lap.

Gently, you ran your fingers through his damp hair, pushing it back from his forehead. Peter sighed, his entire body sagging at the motion.

“You okay?” you murmured.

Peter nodded against your thigh. “Just… rough night.”

His voice was barely audible, hoarse with exhaustion.

“Wanna go to bed?”

“No,” he mumbled, tilting his head to look up at you. “Can we stay like this? Just for a little bit longer?”

You smiled. “Of course. As long as you want to.”

Peter returned your smile, albeit faintly, and closed his eyes again. You kept stroking his hair, smiling softly when you noticed he was nodding off.

"And?" you asked, doing a little spin in front of your boyfriend. "What do you think?"

“Oh, that’s-“ Peter scraped his throat. “That’s cute.”

Tilting your head, you squinted at him. His cheeks were bright red.

You raised your eyebrows. "Cat got your tongue, love?"

That only made him more flustered, though you weren't sure if it was courtesy of the pet name or your teasing tone. For someone who mouthed off to literally everyone and everything when he was masquerading as a vigilante, he was ridiculously shy without that mask.

And you loved making him blush: it was just too adorable to see him trip over his own words in an attempt to say something coherent.

"Why are you like this?" he asked now, burying his face in his hands, and you laughed.

"You're too cute," you said, stepping closer and letting him lean his head against your shoulder.

"You're horrible."

You lightly patted his head. "Yep. Did you figure that out just now?"

"No."

"And yet, you've stayed with me."

Peter circled his arms around your waist and tilted his head back to look up at you. "It's not all that hard."

"I'm not sure if that's a compliment or an insult," you said, but you leaned down to kiss him anyway.