[ He can’t quite feel it, as she cuddles with him (and holy shit, Gamora is cuddling with him, what the fuck this is awesome). All he really gets is the pressure of it, with the scarf acting as a barrier between their bare skin. Then again, it’s probably for the best. Even if Gamora runs a few degrees warmer than him, he’s still not sure he’d appreciate the shocking chill of her skin against his.
As it is now, he grins, feels something warm bloom and burst in his chest, feels something flutter in his stomach, and he wraps his arm around her shoulders, his gloved hand resting against the nape of her neck. Fuck, this is nice, and he’d never expected to have this with Gamora, of all people – even if he hoped. And occasionally dreamed. And occasionally day-dreamed, watching her a little wistfully in their shared apartment – even if she caught him at it, like, a third of the time.
(Of course, she probably noticed every time, but only called him on it as the mood struck. And Peter knows it, deep down in his heart.)
He swallows, licking his lips, and he turns toward her. And slowly, almost timidly, he brushes his lips against her brow.
It might seem like a kiss, barely there as it was. Maybe. ]
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As it is now, he grins, feels something warm bloom and burst in his chest, feels something flutter in his stomach, and he wraps his arm around her shoulders, his gloved hand resting against the nape of her neck. Fuck, this is nice, and he’d never expected to have this with Gamora, of all people – even if he hoped. And occasionally dreamed. And occasionally day-dreamed, watching her a little wistfully in their shared apartment – even if she caught him at it, like, a third of the time.
(Of course, she probably noticed every time, but only called him on it as the mood struck. And Peter knows it, deep down in his heart.)
He swallows, licking his lips, and he turns toward her. And slowly, almost timidly, he brushes his lips against her brow.
It might seem like a kiss, barely there as it was. Maybe. ]