Rooftop Conversations - {Peter Parker}

S I X

When you peek inside you see the only source of light is the couch side lamp and the TV which has been turned down a lot. Your parent's room is closed, and your mother is lightly snoring from the couch. They're both asleep and it makes you grin mischievously as you grab Peter's hand and lead him to your room.

After you shut your door as softly has humanly possible you turn and watch as Peter falls back onto your bed with a harsh exhale.

"Karen, can you go into sleep mode please?" You ask.

"Sure thing. I'll automatically power back on in one hour unless you specify elsewise," Karen says.

"That's fine," you tell her and watch as her light fades as she goes into sleep mode.

"Why did you do that?" Peter asks as he props himself up on his elbows.

You smirk at him and saunter over and straddle him. Peter goes wide-eyed for a moment before he relaxes and sets his hands on the top of your thighs. They're big, warm, and make you feel all warm inside.

"We wouldn't want Stark to hear this, now would we?" You tease.

Peter chuckles, "definitely not."

Your hands move to fiddle nervously at the hem of your shirt, "can I—?"

"Yes," Peter jumps in suddenly, pauses and gets bashful, and continues with, "I-I mean if you feel comfortable with that."

"Are you?" You ask.

He nods slowly, and you grip the hem, pulling the shirt over your head and tossing it to the side. It leaves you in your bra and you resist the urge to cover yourself up. Peter's eyes are huge, and his throat clicks as he swallows hard.

"Do you wanna...?" You ask and motion to your bra.

"Can I?" He asks, echoing your question from before.

You nod this time and he sits up, making you scoot back on his lap a bit. Face to face he leans in and kisses your nose. The soft gesture makes you giggle and the nervous anxiety between you two breaks a bit. His hands trail up the bare skin of you back before they reach the clasp of your bra. Unlike things you've read and heard about he doesn't seem to struggle much. He figures out the clasps and pushes them together until they unhook. The bra loosens on your body and he remove it from you, leaving your top half completely exposed. The air in the apartment makes your skin prickle and your nipples harden.

"Wow they're—you're, um, wow," Peter stutters.

This time it's your turn to blush.

"Thanks," you mutter, "you can, you know, touch them if you want?"

"You sure?" He asks.

You nod and grab his hands and put them against your chest. He smirks and squeezes softly, amazement crossing his features. You let your hands fall away as he kept exploring on his own.

"They're so soft and squishy," he tells you.

"Yeah, I guess they are," you laugh.

"What if I—?" He starts as his fingertips brush over and slightly scratch at your nipples.

You inhale sharply, involuntarily arching your chest forward for more contact. You were more sensitive than you thought. Peter looks at you, and you watch as his gaze darkens, and his pupils widen until his brown irises were almost gone completely.

"Oh," he states.

You lean in and cup his face in your hands as you kiss him. He kisses back, his hands moving until his arms are wrapped around you and pulls you closer to him. The two of you go back until Peter is completely pressed into your mattress with you on top of him. The kiss is deeper and filthier than anything either of you have shared before, and unlike the other times you feel bold enough to press into him with your hips.