Work Text:
Sometimes Sam really wondered why Webs insisted on going out on winter patrols.
After all, the man barely tolerated the cold, claiming he felt goosebumps all over and had his teeth gritted every five minutes.
Not to mention the fact that if he was near any kind of heat source, Peter would start sticking to them like glue, needing to consciously make himself detach when he realized it wasn't socially acceptable (or just vaguely awkward afterward).
And if he didn’t, needing them to point it out or gently remove him from their person when he unconsciously inched too close.
Something that he witnessed happening to everyone enough times to feel the need to take pictures or do some friendly jabs at, but not nearly enough to get used to it occurring to himself as well.
Like right at this very moment, Sam thought half grumbledly, Web's arms squeezing him as he was hugged the daylights out of.
An action that the Nova admittedly found cute when seeing it from a certain angle at times, but not to the point where it made him ignore the fact that it meant that his personal space would unfortunately get invaded when he didn’t ask for it to be.
Which is why he tried to snap the arachnid back to reality.
“Webss, webhead, Spideeyy, Peteeeerr,” Sam tried calling out again, poking and prodding his friend.
Peter didn't look the slightest bit phased, only mumbled incomprehensibly into his shoulder, dragging him further for warmth, a precious smile etched on his face and - his slight annoyance started fading, body trembling - goddamnit, where's Sam's phoneee?
Because he desperately needed to see Ben's reaction to this. After all, if Sam was to suffer (in a manner of speaking), he’d at least make sure to have the webhead have it worse (after all, if they were to be teased forever afterward, it was only fair Sam wasn't the only one embarrassed!).
As if sensing his plan, Peter frowned, eyes still closed, “... Stop… cackling…” Then mumbled weakly.
The Nova rolled his eyes at that. Gee, Webs really likes to take the fun out of things, doesn't he? Then blinked, suddenly remembering why he got cuddled to begin with, “Hey, Webhead. As fun as it is to see you treat me like a heater,” well, not really, “shouldn't we be out patrolling like you insisted we do earlier-”
Just as the words came, Sam turned back to Peter, wanting to see his grumpy reaction, and sighed, noticing that the idiot had fallen asleep on him.
Lips pursued, the teen debated for a moment whether to wake him up or not when he found himself shrugging, leaning closer. No point in waking up someone who'll just do the same thing all over again after.
Nodding to himself, he slowly closed his eyes, he'll listen to his worry-wart friends complain over his logic later.
For now, he’ll sleep for a bit.