Seeing Stars 7: Gemini Rising
Peter woke early in a strange bed, with a strange man: Sylar. Or rather, this 'new' man named Gabriel, who was still discovering who he was and who he wanted to be. It wasn't quite dawn yet outside, but he could still see his companion in the gray light. Also, Gabriel snored. And the clocks ticked. The place was full of noise. If it wasn't the regular oscillation of Gabriel's growling purr of a snore (punctuated by the occasional higher pitched nasal whine), it was the chiming of one or another clock (or all of them) marking the passage of the hour, the half hour, the quarter hour and whatever other intervals the things went off on. Peter hadn't realized how silent his apartment was until he woke here, surrounded by a constant susurrus of noise. He wasn't sure if it was irritating or soothing yet. He wasn't sure of a lot of things.
He propped himself on his elbow and watched, studying the man's face. He ached to touch him - to run his fingers through his hair, trace the outline of his face, or explore the shape of his ear with his fingertips. All those would wake the man, so he kept his hands to himself. It was tough, though. If Sylar … Gabriel, whatever, could keep his hands off me this long, then I can do the same. Of course Sylar hadn't had to watch Peter from little more than a foot away, seeing him oblivious and completely vulnerable. A sleeping Gabriel was a helpless victim just begging for Peter's 'help'. Surely a short caress wouldn't hurt anything. Surely Gabriel would appreciate a gentle touch. And yeah, he probably would, but not while he was asleep. He was so defenseless right now. Peter sighed heavily.
Gabriel jumped at the unexpected puff of air, then a second time when he opened his eyes and caught sight of someone in bed with him - possibly the first time ever he had woke up with company. Peter held very still. Anger chased fear across Gabriel's face before settling into recognition a flash later. He was quick, that was for sure. His eyes took in Peter's complete wakefulness, still propped on his elbow with his free hand palm down on the bed between them, and the top of his bare chest showing above the sheet. Gabriel breathed out slowly and smiled like he couldn't believe his luck. "You're still here," he observed with what sounded like wonder.
"Yep," Peter replied with more confidence than he felt. He didn't know Gabriel all that well, nor did Gabriel know Peter, as his surprise upon waking demonstrated. There was so much that could so easily go wrong between them. "Not a dream," Peter confirmed, hoping to project assurance that all was good.
Gabriel glanced around the room, then back to Peter. His brows drew together and his voice took on a different inflection, this time questioning. "You're still here?"
Peter's brows rose as he guessed at what Gabriel meant - Gabriel's surprise was because Peter wasn't expected or desired here. "I can leave!" A feeling of cold washed over his skin at the idea he'd be that unwelcome. Shit. I'd rather have known that last night and left then! He swallowed and tossed the sheet off as he went to get up and get out. This was embarrassing. He didn't want to be where he wasn't wanted - that had happened so many times Peter had frankly lost count. His romantic life was a disappointing string of one-night-stands and short affairs. Sometimes he wondered if he went around with a 'dump me' sign on his back, because no more would he profess his feelings for someone than they'd be done with him.
"No!" Gabriel reached across the bed and grabbed his arm, pulling him back and spinning him around so they faced again. Peter hadn't expected it; he tumbled into Gabriel, ending up against him. For a good three seconds, both of them looked down at their sudden proximity, then into one another's faces, reading the reaction there. Gabriel was nervous and unsure - he hadn't intended to pull Peter almost on top of him; he'd overreacted. Peter was trying to figure out how much of his placement was an accident, but once he got over the surprise, he didn't mind where he was. Gabriel said, "Don't go, please." Peter hesitated, still stinging from the perceived rejection of a few moments before. Gabriel added softly, "I didn't mean it that way. I just didn't think you would. Stay, that is."
Peter nodded, accepting that gladly. He settled back in, lying with only an inch or two between them. He gave a grateful smile, truly radiant. As soon as he was situated, Gabriel leaned in towards him, nearly closing the small distance and eying his lips, puckering his own. Peter grimaced and pulled back. "I haven't brushed."
The other man desisted with an intent, frowning look. He stared levelly at Peter for a moment, then rolled onto his back, staring upward with the same expression. After a moment he said, "I know you aren't a mysophobe. So why?" He looked back at Peter. "This is like the cooties, right?"
Peter sighed. Why is this so difficult? "I'm just trying to be considerate here, okay? I have not brushed my teeth - I'll taste nasty."
"Peter, a starving man isn't going to complain about the flavor."
"Let me at least go rinse, okay?" He started to get out of the bed, but paused and looked to Gabriel for his permission.
Gabriel rolled his eyes and gestured for Peter to get on with it, so Peter did exactly that. In the bathroom, he glanced at Gabriel's toothbrush, but using that would be even more presumptuous. He rinsed his mouth and spat, then used the facilities while he was there. Afterward he washed his hands, rinsed his mouth and spat again. He filled the glass from next to the sink and carried it out for his partner.
Gabriel took it from him, set it carefully on the nightstand without drinking from it, then grabbed Peter around the waist and drug him forcibly into the bed. Gabriel rolled over on top of him with a growl. He kissed Peter with urgency and insistence and yeah, Gabe didn't taste all that good. A moment later Peter wasn't really caring as Gabriel reached for him and grasped him in a firm, sure grip, staring into Peter's eyes, looking for reluctance or duplicity. Peter kissed him passionately instead.
They parted with a confused shifting of legs. Gabriel won his way with a half snarl and a glower, getting his knees on the outside of Peter's. He still had a hold of Peter's shaft and settled into an easy rhythm, staring down at his prisoner with a smoldering, possessive gaze. Peter stretched lasciviously, rolling his hips into Gabriel's gradually quickening strokes. He brought his hands above his head and overlapped his wrists. "Hold me down," Peter whispered huskily.
Gabriel blinked, eyes wide, looking from Peter's face to his hands in astonishment. Peter quirked a single brow in further invitation and gave the man a mischievous look. Gabriel shut his mouth, which had fallen open, and shifted to reach up and seize Peter's wrists. He couldn't hold himself up as well, but Peter liked the feel of the man's body resting on his own, pressing him down and holding him in place even more firmly. It gave him something to struggle against. Gabriel marveled openly at Peter like this was the height of kink. Peter was delighted. He smiled smugly as he thought, Oh wow, I could have so much fun with him!
Gabriel still watched him, gazing into his eyes, owning him, possessing him, and controlling him. His grip tightened as Peter fought intermittently against him. Gabriel kissed him several times as he pumped at him, but never broke eye contact. It was Peter who finally did, as his lids fluttered and his eyes rolled back and one wanton moan after another was pulled from him by Gabriel's persistent fingers. His body shuddered and he came between them. Gabriel covered Peter's slack mouth with his own, biting gently at his lips and luxuriating in the feel of Peter's heaving breaths across his face.
Gabriel kissed him one more time and released him, rolling off to lie on his side. After a moment to collect himself, Peter rolled to face him. His hand trailed down Gabe's front from his chin, down his breastbone, across his stomach and then down the line of hair that led to his manhood. Gabriel was rock hard. Having Peter trapped under him, squirming, moaning and calling out had just about done Gabriel in all by itself. Peter encircled him with his hand. Gabriel whimpered, bit his lip and hugged him, working to get both arms around him and holding Peter tightly. Peter jerked him as Gabriel gasped in his ear with each steady stroke, coming almost immediately.
Gabriel's forehead rested on Peter's shoulder as they held each other loosely and wound down. When his panting had slowed to normal, Gabriel asked, "Enough mystery. I have to know - explain 'cooties' to me."
"Hygiene," Peter said, stroking the other man's back.
Gabriel stiffened, reacting even more badly than Peter had feared. "Hygiene?" His voice was incensed. "I clean myself. As you would know if you had yet to bother to touch me there!" He shifted uncomfortably and Peter ran his hands over the man more quickly, trying to soothe.
"Hey, hey, it's okay." That didn't seem to calm Gabriel down, who was breathing hard again, now through clenched teeth. The man pulled back to glare into Peter's face from inches away. Peter was worried, afraid and put off. He'd just had sex. He seriously, seriously did not want a confrontation. Everything in him shrank from it. What is it with this guy that he wants to fight right after sex? "Please let it be okay?" Peter begged and that seemed to get through a little.
Gabriel blinked a few times, mitigating his glower but growling, "It won't be 'okay' until it makes sense."
"Okay, listen, I don't want to get feces on my dick, alright? I know you're clean otherwise." Now it was Peter's turn to freeze up, expecting the worst.
Gabriel continued staring at him as Peter withered from the scrutiny, his own eyes darting away apprehensively. "That's it?" Gabriel asked.
"What do you mean, 'that's it'? Yes, that's it!" Peter insisted, irritation edging his voice. He was beginning to resent the constant threat Gabriel was emoting.
Gabriel thought that through. He wrapped his hand around the back of Peter's head, cradling it, and tried to draw him forward. For a second Peter gave him a suspicious look and resisted, then relented and went with it. Gabriel gave him a slow kiss, shutting his eyes. When they parted, Gabriel said, "Okay. That hangs together."
"Glad I pass muster," Peter grumbled sourly.
Gabriel gave him a wry grin. "Even if this is all a trick-"
Peter interrupted with a tone of mock affront, "Hey, I do not turn tricks!"
Whatever Gabriel had been about to say was lost in a choking laugh. He drew Peter against him in another embrace. His laugh journeyed briefly into near-hysterical relief before cycling back down - another part of the emotional roller coaster Gabriel seemed to ride each time after sex. Peter wondered how fucked up the man's life had to have been to have intimacy trigger him so deeply. Peter suspected Gabriel was managing it as well as he could, because he really wanted to be with Peter. Now it was Peter who rearranged them so he could kiss gently. "I like you," Peter confessed quietly.
Gabriel opened his mouth with the evident intention of brushing that off. Peter expected as much, but then Gabriel paused and did a double take. He glanced away and upward like he was digging through his memories (or maybe Nathan's). He looked back at Peter and spoke with his voice a little higher than it should have been. "You … you do?"
"Yeah." Peter smiled softly and rubbed his nose against Gabriel's.
The other man's mouth fell open for a moment before he caught himself and bluffed with patently false assurance, "You're- you're just saying that because you're in bed with me."
Peter rejoined, "I'm in bed with you because I like you."
"Well …" Gabriel didn't seem to know what to do with that. He clearly wasn't going to express the sentiment in return. That bothered Peter, but sadly, it wasn't new. I shouldn't have said anything, Peter remonstrated himself. It's like the death knell for my relationships. Gabriel finished awkwardly with, "Good." He pushed Peter away and turned to climb out of bed. He missed Peter's despondent look and the way Peter ran his hand over the warmth Gabriel had left behind. I want more … than just a quick fuck, or some way to spend the time here, Peter thought. Gabriel said over his shoulder as he started towards the bathroom, "Come on. Let's get breakfast. And I need to shower."
"Yeah," Peter said, forcing his voice to normal. He cleared his throat and sat up, throwing off his moment of depression. "A shower sounds good."
Gabriel stopped in his tracks and looked back at Peter, who looked up at him innocently. Peter hadn't meant anything at all by the statement except he needed to clean up as well. "You-" Gabriel started, obviously thrown, "you want to shower with me?" Perhaps it was the surfeit of intimacy that led Gabriel to assume that since Peter had already allowed so much, that he was pushing for even more. Quickly Gabriel got his emotional footing under him and added with a faint growl, "You mean you want to make sure I get 'clean' enough for you?"
Touchy, insecure bastard! I am not letting this get started. I get enough questioning of my motives already. Peter got to his feet and stalked his naked ass over to Gabriel, pointing angrily at the man's equally bare chest. "Hey! I want to be with you. Get that through your thick skull, okay?"
Gabriel looked him up and down challengingly, then reached out one hand and shoved Peter on the shoulder, pushing him back a step.
Peter hesitated, turning his head and knitting his brows. Is he playing? He reached out tentatively and shoved back. Gabriel grinned, confirming Peter's thought. He reached out and hooked a hand around the back of Peter's neck. Peter twisted, knocking his hand away, laughing as Gabriel tried to get another grip on him. They play-fought for a moment, being very gentle with each other considering the violence they'd shared for so long, before Gabriel finally managed to pull Peter's face close enough to his own that Peter stopped struggling for fear of accidentally head-butting the man.
Gabriel kissed him softly, then looked back and forth between his eyes. "You really want to be with me?"
"Yes."
"It's not just because I've been pushing myself on you?"
Peter gave him a tender look. "I was flirting with you before that, you know?"
"Yeah." Gabriel took a deep, steadying breath. "I noticed." He gave Peter another short kiss. "I could hardly believe it. I thought you were teasing me, torturing me."
Peter barked a laugh. "I was!"
Gabe gave him a sardonic smile and raised his brows briefly. "Yeah," he said slowly. "It was a nice change of pace, though. It gave me hope." He looked down briefly, then averted his eyes to the side when he saw what that put into view between them. His hand at the back of Peter's head tousled his hair briefly, a friendly, familiar gesture almost but not quite like Nathan's. "I have hope. Maybe there can be something … else … between us than there has been."
Peter's eyes narrowed a little and he leaned in just slightly, face very serious. "I want that too - very, very much." His eyes went between Gabriel's, just inches away from him. "I wouldn't be here otherwise."
Gabriel was silent, letting his gaze drop. The wheels were turning in his head. He'd been betrayed and sold out so many times, too frequently by people who had the last name of Petrelli. When he raised his head, he still said nothing, but he kissed Peter again, fast and hard and desperate. Peter cleaved his body to Gabriel's, willing to take as long as it needed to prove himself.