“What the fresh hell?”
Peter turns a bit and looks at you strangely. “What?”
Your stare is low on him. “Did I hit you? I hit you right?”
He cocks a brow. “Yeah, right in the ass too. Why?”
Your eyes flick up to his a moment. “Turn around real quick”.
Peter frowns. “What for?”
You scowl back. “Peter, just trust me”.
He has every reason not to. “Why?” He asks subbornly.
Your eyes flash dark and dangerous a moment before it’s gone and you say stiffly and with much determination, “I want to try something”.
Peter shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t; and yet that little dangerous flare deep in his lover’s eyes has him turning obediently, heat coiled in his gut.
Your hands come immediately to his asscheeks, palming the muscles and fat there. He has to stifle a yelp and flinches horribly. “I- If you wanted to grab my ass, all you had to do was say so- Ohhh!” Peter moans loud, caught off guard a second time when one of your hands comes down hard on his asscheek, the skin stinging through his clothes.
Your hand rubs over the shocked skin and Peter listens hard. Your breathing is deep, almost panting. His face flushed warm. “Holy shit. I knew it”.
Sarcasm wells reflexively in Peter’s throat, a line of defense. “What? That slapping my ass hurts because yeah-”
“No, no, when I bumped into you, your ass- it like, jiggled”. Your voice rusts, flowing deep in tone. “God, that’s-” you squeeze him again and Peter bites his knuckle to keep from moaning. “That’s really hot”.
“Y- You could’ve just come out and said it, weirdo,” he grumbles, shifting on his feet as your thumbs trace the shifting of muscles beneath with complete focus.
“You would have fed me some bullshit over spider-squats, or walking on buildings tightening the glutes or something”. The dismissal sparks amusement in him but it’s all forgotten as your hand comes down again and the air leaves his lungs. His core tightens and when he looks down he can see that while he’s not hard, he’s getting there. He bites his lip. You seem to have noticed to when your hand comes between his legs to cup in through his pants. “Aw, did that feel good?” you purr condescendingly. “Did you like when I spank you, Petey?”
Peter feighns a snicker pretty well, though his cock twitching in their palm is a dead giveaway that it’s an act. “Oooh, yeah, daddy, more!” he playfully moans sarcastically.
You giggle at his antics, swatting him again though much less hard and testing, and more admiring. “Shut up you brat”.