I have been writing this forever and I still think it sucks.
Title: Laundry Day
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Sylar/Peter (apparently which order you put them in matters. Who knew?)
Summary: Peter tries to do laundry but gets a visitor.
Warnings: Gay sex ftw
Doing laundry is so boring, Peter Petrelli thought, dumping the darks into the gigantic washer in the basement of his apartment building.
He vaguely recalls when he was in college, his mother telling him not to do laundry so late at night, but he figures that he could probably take any creeper who tries to jump him.
Lucky for Peter, the creeper who came up behind him and slapped his ass was a tall, handsome man with gelled back dark hair and delicious eyebrows.
"Jesus!" Peter yelps, turning around. "You're such a creep sometimes." He laughs.
"'Sometimes'?" Sylar asks, quite incredulously, before breaking into a small smile. "I came to keep you company while you do the laundry," he explains.
"You mean while I wash your clothes because you haven't?" Peter shuts the washer lid and turns it on. "How thoughtful."
Sylar walks forward, pushing Peter back against the washer machine.
"You know how much I appreciate you, Peter," he practically purrs, burying his face in Peter's hair. Peter sighs and slides his hands up the other man's chest.
"I know."
They stand in silence for a while, when suddenly Sylar interrupts the reverie by exclaiming, "I have an idea," and before Peter can ask what it is, he's being lifted up and placed on top of the washer machine.
Peter was not so sure about this idea.
"What if someone sees us?" he tries to ask, but it comes off sounding more like "What if some-oooooh," mostly because Sylar has pushed up Peter's v-neck and was running his tongue along one of Peter's nipples.
The vibrating from the washer wasn't helping, either.
Okay, so maybe Peter wasn't that afraid of getting caught.
He lays back on the washer and relishes the dual sensations of the vibrating underneath him and the warm, calloused hands that were making their way down his chest, followed by Sylar's tongue.
I can't get over how beautiful you are, Sylar thinks, his eyes darting up to catch Peter's. When the younger man's skin flushes, Sylar laughs and the vibrations causes Peter to let out a hushed moan.
When Sylar gets to the waistband of Peter's pajama bottoms, he tugs them down just enough so Peter's hip bones are sticking out. Tracing the line down Peter's abdomen, Sylar muses, "Do you have any idea what I want to do to you right now?"
"I can imagine," Peter replies, looking up at the man standing above him. He reaches up to lace both hands around Sylar's neck so he can pull down the taller man's head as he pushes himself up.
When they kiss, it's like two forces colliding together. Peter's fingers tangle in Sylar's hair and Sylar grabs a hold of Peter like it's the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.
Peter tries to pull away, but Sylar immediately pulls him back and smashes their mouths together again.
I hate to interrupt, Peter thinks, since his mouth is otherwise occupied, But the spin cycle is going to end soon.
Sylar groans but his hands move down Peter's torso and he can feel his pants being pulled down until they fall off and land on the cement floor with a soft thump. He lifts his legs up and plants them on either side of Sylar on the washer.
Reluctantly, Sylar pulls back so he can unbutton is his own pants and ease his cock out. He looks down at Peter questioningly, and Peter arches his back a little.
"Just do it," he says when Sylar doesn't move.
So Sylar grabs Peter's hips, pulls him closer to the edge of the washer, and pushes inside Peter with a gentle thrust.
Peter pushes himself up so he's sitting and leans back onto his hands for support. He slides one arm around Sylar's back and the other around his neck, and pushes his hips forward so Sylar is deeper inside of him. He rests his chin on Sylar's shoulder.
"I want you to fuck me as hard as you can," he whispers, hot and rough into the taller man's ear.
Sylar's whole body shivers and he nuzzles his lips against Peter's neck for a second before drawing in a breath, pulling his hips back, and then slamming back into Peter with an audible slap.
"Oh," Peter says, because words are just too hard to form right now.
Sylar draws back again and repeats the motion, in out, in out, like a metronome, and Peter smiles inwardly at how technical his lover can be sometimes. Sylar must hear, though, because he thrusts particularly hard into Peter and causes the shorter man to drop his head back in pleasure.
Sylar tries to speak. "Peter, can you," he swallows,"Can you touch yourself for me?"
Peter lifts one hand to wrap around his cock and starts stroking it in time with Sylar's thrusts. He lifts his eyes up to look straight into the other man's eyes as he fucks his hand, lips parted and heavy breaths seeping through them.
He can tell the image is going directly to Sylar's cock, because he begins to speed up, his eyes never leaving Peter's. Their moans and breathing become synchronized as Peter's hand movements become erratic and the only word he seems to remember is "oh"; he jerks and comes with Sylar's name on his lips.
Sylar watches Peter's face contort in ecstasy and feels himself getting ready to come. He lets go of Peter's hips so he can lace his finger's in Peter's hair and tug him forward so he can kiss Peter, hard. Peter's grip tightens on the other man as he feels himself being filled with Sylar's hot release.
When Sylar pulls away, he looks at Peter from under half lidded eyes and whispers, "Oh, Peter," and they kiss softly. The younger man wraps his arms around Sylar and tells him he loves him.
They sit in silence for a while, listening to the rumbling of the washer machine, when it suddenly turns off, and they're jarred back into reality. They hurriedly redress and Peter puts the rest of the clothes into the dryer. They sit to wait for the clothes to finish drying and Peter ends up falling asleep leaning against Sylar's shoulder, much to the other man's amusement.
Watching the clothes spin around, Sylar laces his fingers with the sleeping man's and thinks, that went better than expected.
He decides that he's going to try and seduce Peter down here more often.
Settling back, he lets the movement of the clothes lull him to sleep with a smile on his face.
His final thought, before he slips under, is I never want to let him go.
When a tenant of the building comes downstairs to do laundry, she finds two men with entwined hands sleeping on the laundry room floor. Despite her better judgement, she smiles and switches their laundry for them.
After all, young love doesn't last forever. She didn't want to interrupt their moment.
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Sylar/Peter (apparently which order you put them in matters. Who knew?)
Summary: Peter tries to do laundry but gets a visitor.
Warnings: Gay sex ftw
Doing laundry is so boring, Peter Petrelli thought, dumping the darks into the gigantic washer in the basement of his apartment building.
He vaguely recalls when he was in college, his mother telling him not to do laundry so late at night, but he figures that he could probably take any creeper who tries to jump him.
Lucky for Peter, the creeper who came up behind him and slapped his ass was a tall, handsome man with gelled back dark hair and delicious eyebrows.
"Jesus!" Peter yelps, turning around. "You're such a creep sometimes." He laughs.
"'Sometimes'?" Sylar asks, quite incredulously, before breaking into a small smile. "I came to keep you company while you do the laundry," he explains.
"You mean while I wash your clothes because you haven't?" Peter shuts the washer lid and turns it on. "How thoughtful."
Sylar walks forward, pushing Peter back against the washer machine.
"You know how much I appreciate you, Peter," he practically purrs, burying his face in Peter's hair. Peter sighs and slides his hands up the other man's chest.
"I know."
They stand in silence for a while, when suddenly Sylar interrupts the reverie by exclaiming, "I have an idea," and before Peter can ask what it is, he's being lifted up and placed on top of the washer machine.
Peter was not so sure about this idea.
"What if someone sees us?" he tries to ask, but it comes off sounding more like "What if some-oooooh," mostly because Sylar has pushed up Peter's v-neck and was running his tongue along one of Peter's nipples.
The vibrating from the washer wasn't helping, either.
Okay, so maybe Peter wasn't that afraid of getting caught.
He lays back on the washer and relishes the dual sensations of the vibrating underneath him and the warm, calloused hands that were making their way down his chest, followed by Sylar's tongue.
I can't get over how beautiful you are, Sylar thinks, his eyes darting up to catch Peter's. When the younger man's skin flushes, Sylar laughs and the vibrations causes Peter to let out a hushed moan.
When Sylar gets to the waistband of Peter's pajama bottoms, he tugs them down just enough so Peter's hip bones are sticking out. Tracing the line down Peter's abdomen, Sylar muses, "Do you have any idea what I want to do to you right now?"
"I can imagine," Peter replies, looking up at the man standing above him. He reaches up to lace both hands around Sylar's neck so he can pull down the taller man's head as he pushes himself up.
When they kiss, it's like two forces colliding together. Peter's fingers tangle in Sylar's hair and Sylar grabs a hold of Peter like it's the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.
Peter tries to pull away, but Sylar immediately pulls him back and smashes their mouths together again.
I hate to interrupt, Peter thinks, since his mouth is otherwise occupied, But the spin cycle is going to end soon.
Sylar groans but his hands move down Peter's torso and he can feel his pants being pulled down until they fall off and land on the cement floor with a soft thump. He lifts his legs up and plants them on either side of Sylar on the washer.
Reluctantly, Sylar pulls back so he can unbutton is his own pants and ease his cock out. He looks down at Peter questioningly, and Peter arches his back a little.
"Just do it," he says when Sylar doesn't move.
So Sylar grabs Peter's hips, pulls him closer to the edge of the washer, and pushes inside Peter with a gentle thrust.
Peter pushes himself up so he's sitting and leans back onto his hands for support. He slides one arm around Sylar's back and the other around his neck, and pushes his hips forward so Sylar is deeper inside of him. He rests his chin on Sylar's shoulder.
"I want you to fuck me as hard as you can," he whispers, hot and rough into the taller man's ear.
Sylar's whole body shivers and he nuzzles his lips against Peter's neck for a second before drawing in a breath, pulling his hips back, and then slamming back into Peter with an audible slap.
"Oh," Peter says, because words are just too hard to form right now.
Sylar draws back again and repeats the motion, in out, in out, like a metronome, and Peter smiles inwardly at how technical his lover can be sometimes. Sylar must hear, though, because he thrusts particularly hard into Peter and causes the shorter man to drop his head back in pleasure.
Sylar tries to speak. "Peter, can you," he swallows,"Can you touch yourself for me?"
Peter lifts one hand to wrap around his cock and starts stroking it in time with Sylar's thrusts. He lifts his eyes up to look straight into the other man's eyes as he fucks his hand, lips parted and heavy breaths seeping through them.
He can tell the image is going directly to Sylar's cock, because he begins to speed up, his eyes never leaving Peter's. Their moans and breathing become synchronized as Peter's hand movements become erratic and the only word he seems to remember is "oh"; he jerks and comes with Sylar's name on his lips.
Sylar watches Peter's face contort in ecstasy and feels himself getting ready to come. He lets go of Peter's hips so he can lace his finger's in Peter's hair and tug him forward so he can kiss Peter, hard. Peter's grip tightens on the other man as he feels himself being filled with Sylar's hot release.
When Sylar pulls away, he looks at Peter from under half lidded eyes and whispers, "Oh, Peter," and they kiss softly. The younger man wraps his arms around Sylar and tells him he loves him.
They sit in silence for a while, listening to the rumbling of the washer machine, when it suddenly turns off, and they're jarred back into reality. They hurriedly redress and Peter puts the rest of the clothes into the dryer. They sit to wait for the clothes to finish drying and Peter ends up falling asleep leaning against Sylar's shoulder, much to the other man's amusement.
Watching the clothes spin around, Sylar laces his fingers with the sleeping man's and thinks, that went better than expected.
He decides that he's going to try and seduce Peter down here more often.
Settling back, he lets the movement of the clothes lull him to sleep with a smile on his face.
His final thought, before he slips under, is I never want to let him go.
When a tenant of the building comes downstairs to do laundry, she finds two men with entwined hands sleeping on the laundry room floor. Despite her better judgement, she smiles and switches their laundry for them.
After all, young love doesn't last forever. She didn't want to interrupt their moment.