This Is That Time (v.2) [Peter/Sylar]
Title: This Is That Time (v.2)
Author:casiedearestfic
Pairing: Peter/Sylar
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Unbeta'd
Words: 1,500
Summary: Sylar is sexy. Peter is horny. Porn ensues. The end.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the boys. All characters belong to respective copyrights.
Peter sat on the cold pavement, with only the streetlamps illuminating the space. The sun had set hours ago, and the heat had long dissapeared. He considered getting up and going into a building, finding a warmer, less...pavement-y place to sit. But everytime the thought crossed his mind, it was quickly followed by another; you can't leave him alone.
Sylar was standing ten feet away, facing the brick wall. He was pressing his palms against it, running his fingers along the cracks. Studying each section, like it may reveal some secret passage. Peter's efforts with the wall were always more brutal than studious. But that didn't mean that Peter hadn't been paying attention. He payed it plenty of attention. In the spots where Sylar was, anyhow.
Suddenly, the cold, hard cement under him was forgotten, and he couldn't think of a better place to be. He watched as Sylar pressed himself against the wall, trailing his fingers over the rough red texture. Peter's mind automatically imagined himself under Sylar's fingertips. Feeling his touch, so gentle and careful, coming from a man who he had only known as vicious and reckless. He felt himself blush as Sylar continued to press himself to the wall. Peter understood why he did it. He was Sylar. Sylar had a craving to understand things, to know what they were, why they were there, it made sense for him to be doing what he was doing. But, fuck, did he have to be so God damn obscene about it? He had pressed his hips against the wall more than once. He had held his palms flat out in front of him, creating a space in between that Peter had assumed would have been a perfect spot for him. He had been watching Sylar do this every night for weeks, and it never failed to make his heart pound. Someday, sometime, he promised he would do something about it. But now was not that time. Peter felt his pants tighten, and he knew that this couldn't go on any longer. He was either going to have to cancel this show...or do something to about it.
Peter took a deep breath as he stood, choosing his second option.
He walked slowly and deliberately toward Sylar, who was still facing the wall, with one hand in his pocket, the other tracing lightly, and agonizingly slowly, over a thick red crack in the bricks. Peter was directly behind him now. He lifted his arm and placed his own hand over Sylar's, trying to ignore the quiet gasp of surprise. Peter moved forward slightly, bringing his body flush against Sylar's back. Sylar continued to move his hand, slowly, deliberately, over the cold brick. Peter's mouth was against his neck now, kissing lightly, leaving a tingling chill on Sylar's skin. Sylar turned his head slightly, just enough to make eye contact for the first time in hours. Peter watched as Sylar's eyes focused in on his lips. That was all the motivation Peter needed. He put his other hand on Sylar's waist, pushing slightly, causing him to press deeper against the wall. It was then that their lips connected. It was slow and soft, and rather nice. But Peter needed a little more. Sylar's hand stopped moving along the wall, but didn't drop. He kept his palm pressed flat against the brick, and Peter entwined their fingers together. He kissed harder, making it deep and dirty, and he was hit with pure lust when Sylar moaned deeply against his skin. Peter felt his body burn up with desire, as he pressed hard against Sylar, making damn sure that he could feel every inch of his hard cock against his ass. Sylar turned his face back toward the wall and let out a sound that sent shivers through Peter's body. He couldn't wait any more.
He tightened his grip on Sylar's hip, pulling his waist slightly away from the wall now, rather than crushing him against it. Peter pulled Sylar's other hand out of his pocket, and placed it, open-palmed, against the brick, mirroring his other arm. Sylar's breath shook as Peter slid his hand around his waist, rubbing hard against the stiff bulge in his pants. Peter kept rubbing his own cock against Sylar's ass, and he heard him take a deep and shaky breath. Peter fumbled with the button on Sylar's jeans, getting it open and sliding his hand down into the silky boxers, not wasting anytime to get skin on skin. Sylar's breath stuttered, sounding weak and strained as Peter stroked his thumb over the tip of his wet cock. He tightened his grip, jerking hard now, rubbing his palm over every inch of hard, hot cock. Sylar moaned loudly against the wall, and Peter burried his face in his neck, leaving bites in place of those slow sweet kisses. Sylar was grinding his hips now, into Peter's hand, letting Peter rub his own cock on his ass.
Peter felt Sylar twitch, heard him mutter obscenities as he slammed his palm hard against the wall. And all at once, Peter felt the warm, sticky sensation of a job well done squirting over his hand. It coated the bricks in front of Sylar's trembling body, and Peter forced himself to resist the urge to lick it up. Sylar was weak and breathless, panting hard, with hair sweaty and falling across his eyes. Peter realized that if the wall had not been there now, Sylar would have collapsed to the ground. He imagined what that would have been like, and decided he wanted it. He wrapped his arm around Sylars waist, and jerked him away from the sturdy brick barrier. Sylar stumbled, and as predicted, fell in a sweaty, sleepy, sexy heap, right on top of Peter.
Sylar tried to offer some words of apology, but all Peter heard was exactly what he'd been longing to hear for so long. Sylar's voice, blissful and calm, saying his name. Peter leaned down and kissed his forhead as he fell asleep on the pavement, and he realized, that this was that time.
-Fin-
Comments Please!
Author:casiedearestfic
Pairing: Peter/Sylar
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Unbeta'd
Words: 1,500
Summary: Sylar is sexy. Peter is horny. Porn ensues. The end.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the boys. All characters belong to respective copyrights.
Peter sat on the cold pavement, with only the streetlamps illuminating the space. The sun had set hours ago, and the heat had long dissapeared. He considered getting up and going into a building, finding a warmer, less...pavement-y place to sit. But everytime the thought crossed his mind, it was quickly followed by another; you can't leave him alone.
Sylar was standing ten feet away, facing the brick wall. He was pressing his palms against it, running his fingers along the cracks. Studying each section, like it may reveal some secret passage. Peter's efforts with the wall were always more brutal than studious. But that didn't mean that Peter hadn't been paying attention. He payed it plenty of attention. In the spots where Sylar was, anyhow.
Suddenly, the cold, hard cement under him was forgotten, and he couldn't think of a better place to be. He watched as Sylar pressed himself against the wall, trailing his fingers over the rough red texture. Peter's mind automatically imagined himself under Sylar's fingertips. Feeling his touch, so gentle and careful, coming from a man who he had only known as vicious and reckless. He felt himself blush as Sylar continued to press himself to the wall. Peter understood why he did it. He was Sylar. Sylar had a craving to understand things, to know what they were, why they were there, it made sense for him to be doing what he was doing. But, fuck, did he have to be so God damn obscene about it? He had pressed his hips against the wall more than once. He had held his palms flat out in front of him, creating a space in between that Peter had assumed would have been a perfect spot for him. He had been watching Sylar do this every night for weeks, and it never failed to make his heart pound. Someday, sometime, he promised he would do something about it. But now was not that time. Peter felt his pants tighten, and he knew that this couldn't go on any longer. He was either going to have to cancel this show...or do something to about it.
Peter took a deep breath as he stood, choosing his second option.
He walked slowly and deliberately toward Sylar, who was still facing the wall, with one hand in his pocket, the other tracing lightly, and agonizingly slowly, over a thick red crack in the bricks. Peter was directly behind him now. He lifted his arm and placed his own hand over Sylar's, trying to ignore the quiet gasp of surprise. Peter moved forward slightly, bringing his body flush against Sylar's back. Sylar continued to move his hand, slowly, deliberately, over the cold brick. Peter's mouth was against his neck now, kissing lightly, leaving a tingling chill on Sylar's skin. Sylar turned his head slightly, just enough to make eye contact for the first time in hours. Peter watched as Sylar's eyes focused in on his lips. That was all the motivation Peter needed. He put his other hand on Sylar's waist, pushing slightly, causing him to press deeper against the wall. It was then that their lips connected. It was slow and soft, and rather nice. But Peter needed a little more. Sylar's hand stopped moving along the wall, but didn't drop. He kept his palm pressed flat against the brick, and Peter entwined their fingers together. He kissed harder, making it deep and dirty, and he was hit with pure lust when Sylar moaned deeply against his skin. Peter felt his body burn up with desire, as he pressed hard against Sylar, making damn sure that he could feel every inch of his hard cock against his ass. Sylar turned his face back toward the wall and let out a sound that sent shivers through Peter's body. He couldn't wait any more.
He tightened his grip on Sylar's hip, pulling his waist slightly away from the wall now, rather than crushing him against it. Peter pulled Sylar's other hand out of his pocket, and placed it, open-palmed, against the brick, mirroring his other arm. Sylar's breath shook as Peter slid his hand around his waist, rubbing hard against the stiff bulge in his pants. Peter kept rubbing his own cock against Sylar's ass, and he heard him take a deep and shaky breath. Peter fumbled with the button on Sylar's jeans, getting it open and sliding his hand down into the silky boxers, not wasting anytime to get skin on skin. Sylar's breath stuttered, sounding weak and strained as Peter stroked his thumb over the tip of his wet cock. He tightened his grip, jerking hard now, rubbing his palm over every inch of hard, hot cock. Sylar moaned loudly against the wall, and Peter burried his face in his neck, leaving bites in place of those slow sweet kisses. Sylar was grinding his hips now, into Peter's hand, letting Peter rub his own cock on his ass.
Peter felt Sylar twitch, heard him mutter obscenities as he slammed his palm hard against the wall. And all at once, Peter felt the warm, sticky sensation of a job well done squirting over his hand. It coated the bricks in front of Sylar's trembling body, and Peter forced himself to resist the urge to lick it up. Sylar was weak and breathless, panting hard, with hair sweaty and falling across his eyes. Peter realized that if the wall had not been there now, Sylar would have collapsed to the ground. He imagined what that would have been like, and decided he wanted it. He wrapped his arm around Sylars waist, and jerked him away from the sturdy brick barrier. Sylar stumbled, and as predicted, fell in a sweaty, sleepy, sexy heap, right on top of Peter.
Sylar tried to offer some words of apology, but all Peter heard was exactly what he'd been longing to hear for so long. Sylar's voice, blissful and calm, saying his name. Peter leaned down and kissed his forhead as he fell asleep on the pavement, and he realized, that this was that time.
-Fin-
Comments Please!