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It was late, but the sun's presence could still be felt. Harry'd left a while ago, given that they'd finished their usual prowling in the streets of New York. Peter was nested on a roof, high enough that nobody could see him. Deep in thoughts, he didn't expect his suit to speak to him.
“I can help you with that.”
Peter frowned. “What? What do you mean?”
He almost heard a chuckle in his suit's voice. “Your thoughts are interesting .”
With a huff, Peter looked at the city. “So what? I can't look back at fond memories?”
“You're fantasizing , not remembering,” the suit commented. “Not that it makes a difference.”
Peter passed a hand through his hair. “Alright. You got me. I let my mind wander. Why do you care?”
“I care because I can feel it too,” his suit explained. “I smell your arousal. Your lips are dry. You want to keep thinking about it. You wish MJ were here, but you don't want to see her as only there to satisfy you.”
While Peter swallowed his breath, his suit kept going. “Heat has been building up in your body. You think you might get hard if you don't stop.”
Peter's breath hitched.
“If I don't stop,” the suit continued. “Maybe you should let your fingers go down there, to check your hardness. It would be a simple excuse, we both know it. Because once you start…”
“... There's no going back.”
They both stayed silent.
Peter glanced at his pants. “This is weird. Talking to you about this. Have you ever… How long have you felt it?”
“Ever since we met,” the suit answered. “I kept silent because I didn't want to scare you. Even when you don't wear me, I can feel you, I can hear you…”
“So… When MJ and I…”
“Yes,” the suit answered. “I enjoy it. I like feeling your arousal stir up, I like knowing you get pleasure, and I like noticing that you're starting to get hard right now.”
Peter smiled. “Can't hide anything from you, can I? What do you suggest?”
It was an admission.
Swiftly, black pico particles tore open Peter's belt buckle and sent the belt flying a few feet away. Peter huffed after his initial startled reaction. He kept his legs spread out and stared at the particles, full of half-admitted expectation.
The particles swashed closer and swirled around him. Peter was well-aware that his suit attacked his button and zipper, and he made no attempt to stop it. He didn't have to raise his hips, as the particles pulled at his pants violently. Aside from his boxer briefs, his legs were bare up to his ankles, where his pants had shuffled just above his feet.
He had neither the time nor the wish to protest, as his underwear had reached his knees already.
The particles wrapped around his cock. The unexpected rough treatment he'd gotten had made him go from interested to full-mast in a few seconds. As soon as it started espousing his flesh, Peter let out a moan.
“You should tell her you like it rough,” the suit said. “She'd indulge you.”
“Can you not… mention MJ?” Peter asked, holding on to the ground beside him to not lose it. “I already feel like I'm cheating on her.”
The particles obeyed his every demand. As soon as he asked them to go slower, they did so. God, there was no way he'd last.
“I'm just part of you,” the suit said. “Not cheating. This is just elaborate masturbation. You do it daily already, it's not different.”
Peter couldn't argue back, because the particles had him in their clutches. They teased him and knew exactly what to do. He was shaking, his fingers had made holes in the cement, and his voice couldn't contain his excitement. It didn't help that the particles took perverse pleasure in tearing out his shirt open. Some of them slithered on his torso and reached his face. They stroked his fluffed beard, caressed his hard nipples, and never, never let go of his flushed cock, of his filled balls.
“Y–You ruined my shirt,” Peter groaned as beads of precome ran down his sturdy cock.
“Sorry,” the suit answered. “I was a bit eager.”
“S'alright,” Peter answered, his eyes closed. “Please…”
“Beg for it.”
“Please,” Peter repeated. “I need it… I really need it…”
He felt the particles dance around his throat, closer and closer to his skin, until he was effectively being choked.
“Please,” Peter begged, but it didn't matter because he was already shaking, already sweating, already pulsing and letting go over his skin, into the particles' hunger.
It took him a few minutes to come down from the high. His burning skin needed more time to reach a reasonable state, as did his breathing, but the particles, in their gentleness, kept comforting his body.
There was no trace of the sun left when Peter spoke again. “Thank you. Uh, I don't really know how to handle this. But… It was nice.”
“My pleasure,” the suit answered. “ Our pleasure, really.
“Huh. Right.”
They stared at the city for a while. Peter's amused smile told the both of them he could get used to that.