This Is That Time [Peter/Sylar]
Title: This Is That Time
Author:casiedearestfic
Pairing: Peter/Sylar
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: (Unbeta'd) A little rough, but I'm sure you can handle it.
Words: 1,500
Summary: Peter is sexy. Sylar is horny. Porn ensues. The end.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the boys. All characters belong to respective copyrights.
Sylar watched as Peter swung the hammer against the wall, harder each time. He could see that he was getting frusterated. Losing patience. Becoming desperate to get out. But Sylar was feeling desperation of a different kind. It had started months ago, when Peter first started trying to beat down that damn wall. At first, it had caused him nothing more than a splitting headache. He would sit and watch as Peter swung the hammer, never causing any damage to the wall. But, eventually, Sylar noticed more than the frusterating noise of it all. He noticed the way Peter's muscles moved, under clothing that was dark and constricting. Exactly how he liked it. He noticed the way his hair fell in front of his face, and his skin would become feverishly heated. And, possibly the best part, was the anger. That anger was a good look for Peter. And that was when Sylar began to enjoy the times that Peter decided to take out his frusterations on the wall. Times just like this.
Sylar stood fifteen feet back, arms crossed over his chest, eyes already darkened with lust. Peter was throwing all his power into it, slamming down hard. The intensity alone was enough to make Sylar weak with need. He thought about what it would be like. To do all the things he had been thinking of over the last few months. He wondered occasionally if Peter would allow him to do those things. He still wasn't used to having to think about how other people would react to his actions. If they would let him do as he wished. He was so accustomed to simply...doing whatever it was that he desired, and no one could stop him. But this, now, this was different. He didn't have the power to make Peter his toy. Peter could easily reject him. Just as he could easily return the aching sensation of wantlustfuckneed that Sylar had been feeling. That was when he decided it was worth the gamble.
Peter stopped swinging the hammer, letting it drop to his feet, as he bent to catch his breath. Sylar wanted to stand back and appreciate this beauty. But his body refused. He needed this too bad, needed to know if his desires could be reached. He dropped his hands to his sides, walking quickly, taking long, powerful strides. The distance was closed within seconds, and Sylar had his hands fisted in the collar of Peter's shirt. Pulling him up, and pushing him back at the same time. He heard Peter gasp as he was slammed up against the wall. Maybe a little too hard.
"Sylar!" Peter was angry, and possibly a little frightened, struggling against his grip. Sylar thought about taking his hands off him, letting him go, but...he needed this too fucking badly.
Sylar kept his fingers tangled in the fabric of Peters damp shirt, and pressed against his body. He felt Peter's breath hitch as he realized that this was not an attack. Sylar resisted the urge to press their mouths together, just long enough to search Peter's face. He let his eyes study the way Peter's hair was wet and falling in front of his eyes. He dropped his gaze to his lips, already swollen and wet from the way he had been furiously biting them just a moment ago. When they finally locked eyes, Sylar felt a whole new wave of lust flash through his body, weakening his stance. Peter was breathing hard and deep, and looking at him in a way that was full of promises. And suddenly, Sylar couldn't resist it anymore.
He tilted his face down, pressing their mouths together in a kiss that was anything but sweet. Peter returned it immediately, no resistance. Sylar kept his hands on Peter's shoulders, sinking him deeper against the wall. Peter had his hands on his back, grabbing desperately at the black fabric of his coat. Sylar was reminded momentarily of violent fights and painful deaths as the two men kissed. Grabbing at each other too hard, pushing and pulling, leaving bruises on heated skin. And then came the biting. Peter pushed Sylar's face away from his, pulling his hair and scratching his skin. Sylar moaned quietly as he felt Peter bite along his jawline, moving his mouth down his neck. It finally came to rest on his pulse, sucking hard, leaving violent red marks. This was all too much.
Sylar pressed harder against Peter's body, letting go of his shoulders. He let his hands fall down Peter's chest. He had been imagining, fantasizing, about spending the time to touch and kiss every inch of it. But this was not that time. Now, he was too fucking desperate. He dug his fingers into the waist of Peter's black jeans, gripping the fabric tight, hating it furiously. Peter arched his body slightly, pushing his hips away from the wall, and tighter against Sylar's body. Peter's hands were tangled in his hair now, pulling their faces together, biting and sucking and licking, and this was not the kind of kissing Sylar had imagined. But he was glad. Because this was raw and desperate, and causing pain in all the right places. And to share this kind of pain with Peter...was just so fucking hot.
Sylar became viciously aware that Peter was rubbing his hard cock against his leg now. Too much fucking denim. Peter was making noises that were positively obscene, and Sylar couldn't remember a time he had ever been harder, or more fucking desperate. He pulled hard at the button on Peter's jeans, ripping it off rather than wasting time to undo it. Peter's hands were furiously pulling at Sylar's coat, as if it's existance had suddenly just somehow offended him. Peter felt his legs weaken as Sylar slid his hand down the front of his pants, gripping his achingly stiff cock. Sylar's other hand was on his face now, pressing his cheek against the brick wall, fingers leaving marks behind on pale skin. Sylar was stroking him hard now, while keeping his face pressed against the bricks. He was biting at his exposed neck, sucking and licking at the sweat. And when he thought he may have bit too hard, he felt Peter stiffen even more as he let out a moan that was really more of a growl. Sylar had never heard anything so fucking sinfully hot in his life.
He let go of Peter's face, letting his hand find a way to his hips. Sylar dropped to his knees, quickly, and without thinking. He winced as his knees hit the hard pavement. He pulled at Peter's pants, taking them down to his knees, exposing his cock. Painfully stiff, and wet from the drops of come that Sylar had already rubbed all over the shaft. Part of him wanted to take his time, and appreciate every inch. But that part of him was fighting a losing battle today. He wrapped his hand around it, gripping it tight before taking it into his mouth. It was hard and heavy on his tounge. He felt Peter reach down and tangle his fingers in his dark hair, pulling him in close, silently begging for him to suck deeper. Sylar began to feel dizzy with lust when that begging suddenly stopped being silent.
"Fuck." Peter's voice was thick with need, broken and low, sounding like a growl. "Suck me harder...yeah. Keep...going."
Sylar felt Peter's fingers tighten in his hair, pulling him in closer. Peter was bucking his hips now, grinding hard into Sylars mouth. He was moaning loudly, letting random obscenities fall from his lips.
"Harder. Make me come....fuck!" Sylar felt one of Peter's hands drop from his hair, onto his shoulder, squeezing tightly, digging into the skin. Peter made a low moaning noise, one that had obviously come from deep within his body. Sylar knew he was about to get what he had been needing from the youngest Petrelli.
"Fuck...I...I'm gonna..." Peter's words trailed off as he bit his lip and squeezed his fingers tighter into Sylar's shoulder. Sylar felt the hot liquid hit the back of his throat. It was so satisfyingly bittersweet. He moaned around Peter's cock, swallowing all he could. He felt peter's legs go weak, shaking slightly at the knees. He pulled his mouth away, and kept his hands on Peter's hips, guiding him down gently to rest on the ground beside him. Peter slumped down, breathing hard and looking blissful. Sylar pulled him over, letting him rest his head in his lap. Peter's eyes closed slowly as Sylar placed one hand on his chest, and ran the other gently through his hair.
He thought about the way he had wanted to take his time with him. To study every inch of him, and appreciate every second. He bit back a smile as he realized: this is that time.
-Fin-
Comments Please!
Author:casiedearestfic
Pairing: Peter/Sylar
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: (Unbeta'd) A little rough, but I'm sure you can handle it.
Words: 1,500
Summary: Peter is sexy. Sylar is horny. Porn ensues. The end.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the boys. All characters belong to respective copyrights.
Sylar watched as Peter swung the hammer against the wall, harder each time. He could see that he was getting frusterated. Losing patience. Becoming desperate to get out. But Sylar was feeling desperation of a different kind. It had started months ago, when Peter first started trying to beat down that damn wall. At first, it had caused him nothing more than a splitting headache. He would sit and watch as Peter swung the hammer, never causing any damage to the wall. But, eventually, Sylar noticed more than the frusterating noise of it all. He noticed the way Peter's muscles moved, under clothing that was dark and constricting. Exactly how he liked it. He noticed the way his hair fell in front of his face, and his skin would become feverishly heated. And, possibly the best part, was the anger. That anger was a good look for Peter. And that was when Sylar began to enjoy the times that Peter decided to take out his frusterations on the wall. Times just like this.
Sylar stood fifteen feet back, arms crossed over his chest, eyes already darkened with lust. Peter was throwing all his power into it, slamming down hard. The intensity alone was enough to make Sylar weak with need. He thought about what it would be like. To do all the things he had been thinking of over the last few months. He wondered occasionally if Peter would allow him to do those things. He still wasn't used to having to think about how other people would react to his actions. If they would let him do as he wished. He was so accustomed to simply...doing whatever it was that he desired, and no one could stop him. But this, now, this was different. He didn't have the power to make Peter his toy. Peter could easily reject him. Just as he could easily return the aching sensation of wantlustfuckneed that Sylar had been feeling. That was when he decided it was worth the gamble.
Peter stopped swinging the hammer, letting it drop to his feet, as he bent to catch his breath. Sylar wanted to stand back and appreciate this beauty. But his body refused. He needed this too bad, needed to know if his desires could be reached. He dropped his hands to his sides, walking quickly, taking long, powerful strides. The distance was closed within seconds, and Sylar had his hands fisted in the collar of Peter's shirt. Pulling him up, and pushing him back at the same time. He heard Peter gasp as he was slammed up against the wall. Maybe a little too hard.
"Sylar!" Peter was angry, and possibly a little frightened, struggling against his grip. Sylar thought about taking his hands off him, letting him go, but...he needed this too fucking badly.
Sylar kept his fingers tangled in the fabric of Peters damp shirt, and pressed against his body. He felt Peter's breath hitch as he realized that this was not an attack. Sylar resisted the urge to press their mouths together, just long enough to search Peter's face. He let his eyes study the way Peter's hair was wet and falling in front of his eyes. He dropped his gaze to his lips, already swollen and wet from the way he had been furiously biting them just a moment ago. When they finally locked eyes, Sylar felt a whole new wave of lust flash through his body, weakening his stance. Peter was breathing hard and deep, and looking at him in a way that was full of promises. And suddenly, Sylar couldn't resist it anymore.
He tilted his face down, pressing their mouths together in a kiss that was anything but sweet. Peter returned it immediately, no resistance. Sylar kept his hands on Peter's shoulders, sinking him deeper against the wall. Peter had his hands on his back, grabbing desperately at the black fabric of his coat. Sylar was reminded momentarily of violent fights and painful deaths as the two men kissed. Grabbing at each other too hard, pushing and pulling, leaving bruises on heated skin. And then came the biting. Peter pushed Sylar's face away from his, pulling his hair and scratching his skin. Sylar moaned quietly as he felt Peter bite along his jawline, moving his mouth down his neck. It finally came to rest on his pulse, sucking hard, leaving violent red marks. This was all too much.
Sylar pressed harder against Peter's body, letting go of his shoulders. He let his hands fall down Peter's chest. He had been imagining, fantasizing, about spending the time to touch and kiss every inch of it. But this was not that time. Now, he was too fucking desperate. He dug his fingers into the waist of Peter's black jeans, gripping the fabric tight, hating it furiously. Peter arched his body slightly, pushing his hips away from the wall, and tighter against Sylar's body. Peter's hands were tangled in his hair now, pulling their faces together, biting and sucking and licking, and this was not the kind of kissing Sylar had imagined. But he was glad. Because this was raw and desperate, and causing pain in all the right places. And to share this kind of pain with Peter...was just so fucking hot.
Sylar became viciously aware that Peter was rubbing his hard cock against his leg now. Too much fucking denim. Peter was making noises that were positively obscene, and Sylar couldn't remember a time he had ever been harder, or more fucking desperate. He pulled hard at the button on Peter's jeans, ripping it off rather than wasting time to undo it. Peter's hands were furiously pulling at Sylar's coat, as if it's existance had suddenly just somehow offended him. Peter felt his legs weaken as Sylar slid his hand down the front of his pants, gripping his achingly stiff cock. Sylar's other hand was on his face now, pressing his cheek against the brick wall, fingers leaving marks behind on pale skin. Sylar was stroking him hard now, while keeping his face pressed against the bricks. He was biting at his exposed neck, sucking and licking at the sweat. And when he thought he may have bit too hard, he felt Peter stiffen even more as he let out a moan that was really more of a growl. Sylar had never heard anything so fucking sinfully hot in his life.
He let go of Peter's face, letting his hand find a way to his hips. Sylar dropped to his knees, quickly, and without thinking. He winced as his knees hit the hard pavement. He pulled at Peter's pants, taking them down to his knees, exposing his cock. Painfully stiff, and wet from the drops of come that Sylar had already rubbed all over the shaft. Part of him wanted to take his time, and appreciate every inch. But that part of him was fighting a losing battle today. He wrapped his hand around it, gripping it tight before taking it into his mouth. It was hard and heavy on his tounge. He felt Peter reach down and tangle his fingers in his dark hair, pulling him in close, silently begging for him to suck deeper. Sylar began to feel dizzy with lust when that begging suddenly stopped being silent.
"Fuck." Peter's voice was thick with need, broken and low, sounding like a growl. "Suck me harder...yeah. Keep...going."
Sylar felt Peter's fingers tighten in his hair, pulling him in closer. Peter was bucking his hips now, grinding hard into Sylars mouth. He was moaning loudly, letting random obscenities fall from his lips.
"Harder. Make me come....fuck!" Sylar felt one of Peter's hands drop from his hair, onto his shoulder, squeezing tightly, digging into the skin. Peter made a low moaning noise, one that had obviously come from deep within his body. Sylar knew he was about to get what he had been needing from the youngest Petrelli.
"Fuck...I...I'm gonna..." Peter's words trailed off as he bit his lip and squeezed his fingers tighter into Sylar's shoulder. Sylar felt the hot liquid hit the back of his throat. It was so satisfyingly bittersweet. He moaned around Peter's cock, swallowing all he could. He felt peter's legs go weak, shaking slightly at the knees. He pulled his mouth away, and kept his hands on Peter's hips, guiding him down gently to rest on the ground beside him. Peter slumped down, breathing hard and looking blissful. Sylar pulled him over, letting him rest his head in his lap. Peter's eyes closed slowly as Sylar placed one hand on his chest, and ran the other gently through his hair.
He thought about the way he had wanted to take his time with him. To study every inch of him, and appreciate every second. He bit back a smile as he realized: this is that time.
-Fin-
Comments Please!