He thought she looked best when she woke up in the mornings.
Her legs would be tangled with his and her arms were always in the same position- one under her pillow, supporting her head, and the other curled up near her neck, fingers bent and relaxed.
Her hair was always a mess, the carefully tied braid she slept with in disarray, and when she opened her eyes she frowned, with one corner of her mouth going just a little lower than the other.
She didn't really have a set nightgown or pajama pair. She usually knocked out in whatever was comfortable; in whatever was within easy reach of the work she was normally doing at three a.m.- and the difference in clothing was mildly exciting to him. Sometimes he could trace patterns on her stomach by lifting her shirt, tickling her until she punched him so she could sleep, and sometimes his fingers danced along the skin of her thighs, inching farther and farther upwards until she grinned into his neck and clamped her legs down hard.
Either way, no matter what she wore or the little string of drool that inevitably came from her mouth, Peter Parker knew that Gwen Stacy looked best when she woke up in the mornings.
She, of course, heartily disagreed.
They talked about it once.
Gwen had been annoyed, pushing the glasses she had been wearing farther up on her nose and gesticulating wildly. She brought his attention to the dress she had worn three weeks ago on a date- it had been black, with a plunging neckline, and had clung to her body like a second skin. She had worn towering heels and her hair was loose and framing her face and Peter had forgotten how to speak when he saw her (both at the time and presently, remembering the curves of her body the dress had outlined).
Gwen had grinned, quite smug in her victory, until Peter had tugged her close, combing his fingers through her hair, and told her what, exactly, he found so beautiful about her in the morning.
It was partly her innocence. When she slept, all the worries and troubles that plagued her throughout the day vanished, her face smoothing out and relaxing. As she woke up- during those first few moments- she kept that look, yawning and stretching.
It was also her body- the way she fit into him so perfectly, the curve of her spine nestling against him as if they were two pieces of the same puzzle, finally together to make a whole picture.
And part of it was the drool- she punched him again for this- because c'mon, wasn't it the cutest (and the most disgusting, really) thing ever?
After he had finished his list, Gwen laughed and snuggled in closer, moving his arms until they formed a safe barrier around her. She also concluded- rather reluctantly- that perhaps he had a point. He was entitled to his own opinion, after all.
Peter paused for a moment.
Thought about it.
And then told her that while he definitely loved the way she looked in the morning…he wouldn't mind at all if she decided to go put on that dress again.
Like, right now.
She laughed and he kissed her nose and he thought about adding another few reasons to his list- like how her shirt would ride up just a little, or the way she'd say his name right as she woke- but really, if he started he'd never stop. So he just kissed her again and let it go.
I wanted to write something fluffy after the depressing one-shot I posted earlier. So...fluff!
Anyway, reviews are very much appreciated :)
-BC