#i’ve seen too many spiderbit cuddle headcanons

[somebluemelodies]

The first thing Roier feels when he wakes up is warmth.

(And a solid - comforting - weight on top of him.)

He doesn’t need to open his eyes to know his husband is at least half sprawled on top of him, if not entirely. He doesn’t need to open his eyes to start smiling to himself already, arms coming to a snug hold against Cellbit’s back.

But he opens them anyway, and the sight that greets him is just as pleasant and makes him feel no less fuzzy than every other time before it.

He sighs, happy, letting his hand run up and down the cat-hybrid’s back.

In response, Cellbit stirs, piercing eyes blinking open. Roier’s smile brightens. Buenos días.

Bom dia…

Cellbit lifts himself up slightly, starting to stretch. After a few moments, though, Roier can tell something clicks just right, watching as his husband shudders and all but turns to jelly as he falls right back onto his chest.

He can’t help a chuckle, and the cat-hybrid bristles out of embarrassment, hiding his face and mumbling incoherent Portuguese as he holds Roier’s shirt tighter.

(Cellbit has never been fond of his… feline attributes. He likes to hide all of them, physical or not, as much as possible. He needs people to take him seriously.)

(Roier feels lucky he gets to see this side of him so much. It’s not that often he looks this peaceful.)

Undeterred, one the spider-hybrid’s hands comes up to the back of Cellbit’s head, scratching the base of his left ear.

(Wait for it…)

His husband melts, subconsciously nuzzling into his touch, and Roier is more than pleased when he hears a gentle purr start to rumble, continuing to scratch.

He sees a contented tail flick, and then something familiarly soft curl around his leg. Tilting his head down, he presses a kiss into Cellbit’s hair. Mi gatinho.

(The purring grows a little louder.)

The embarrassment can’t settle with Cellbit for long, not when the sugar-sweet warmth coursing through his veins and seeping into his bones makes him feel positively content and safe. And sleepy.

Besides, he knows Roier isn’t laughing at him. He isn’t weirded out. If anything, he’s the opposite. Cellbit can feel it, in the gentle, soothing touches, the secure embraces. He can see it, in the deep fondness and practical reverie in his dark eyes. He’s looked at like he’s hung the moon.

(He would know. He looks at his husband the same exact way.)

So… maybe it isn’t all bad. It can’t be, if it makes Roier so happy.

Cellbit presses closer even still, and in turn, Roier holds him tighter. The security of it silently says he isn’t going anywhere.

Well, that’s okay.

He lets his eyes close, a steady heartbeat against his ear.

(Even when the scratching stops, the purring doesn’t.)

A few more hours minutes wouldn’t hurt.