He’d cleaned his apartment over twice, rearranged the couch cushions four times and tried on too many cardigans and sweaters to count. To say he was nervous was an understatement.

It was your first time sleeping over, and he wanted- no, he needed everything to be perfect. He couldn’t mess this up, couldn’t give you any reason to flee. He was being silly, but he was too paranoid not to. You’d knocked on the door once, but his nervous pacing and racing thoughts distracted him. He heard you the second time. “S-sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

You went through the motions; asking how your day was, you asking the same in return. Toeing your shoes off next to his beaten up converse, before he shakily helped you remove your coat, him flushing with goosebumps when you accidentally brushed skin. You went up to peck his lips, but he was too stunned to even respond, and you lips drew away and he was left disappointed and embarrassed.

The night went how it usually did when you came over in the evening. Watching some movie that Spencer paid zero attention to because the smell of you was too overwhelming and he was too busy trying to calm his erratic heart rate and slyly wipe away the sweat from his clammy palms on his jeans. His arm was tense around you as you snuggled up to his side (it took him a very minimum of five minutes to work up the courage to wrap his arm around your shoulders).

Now, you were in bed. You taken one of his sweaters from his closet, and you’d snuggled up in bed. You could see Spencer’s hand twitching with the urge to move, his jaw clenched in resistance. He knew couples were supposed to cuddle together, but how did you start it? What if you didn’t like it? What if you overheated and didn’t tell him out of worry that you’d upset him? His mind was a minefield of insecurities and doubts. “Do you- is it…” He stuttered, unable to find the words, “Would you l-like to..”

‘Cuddle’ your mind filled in the blank.