Bricks in the Wall, Chapter 53: Making Love
Title: Making Love
Characters: Peter, Sylar
Rating: NC-17
Words: 850
Summary: After the sex, Peter makes love.
Peter roused himself from the post-coital bliss, rolling and lifting himself slowly onto hands and knees so he could crawl closer to his new lover. Sylar, more-or-less spread-eagled in careless relaxation, pulled his limbs in a little in mild defensiveness, eyes scanning over Peter’s face. Peter gave him a gentle smile for reassurance, then propped himself with one hand on the bed next to Sylar's pillow, the other taking Sylar’s chin and holding him in place. Sylar stayed perfectly still for that, not even stiffening; it was something Peter had noticed - most people jumped when surprised, but Sylar stilled. Sylar had given him free rein to use him as he would. Peter expected he’d like this.
He leaned in slowly, tongue moving out to flick at the skin between chin and lower lip, tasting the salt and mild residue of the many reckless, passionate kisses they’d already shared. Sylar sighed, lids drooping and hands moving slightly as he broke from the artificial immobility. Peter moved in slightly more, guided by instinct and desire rather than any conscious thought, and sucked a bit of Sylar’s luscious lower lip into his mouth. He kneaded it between lips and with tongue four or five times before dragging over it with his teeth, accompanied by a growl.
Sylar moaned in delighted pleasure, his hands finding the bare skin of Peter’s sides and touching. Peter straddled him, adjusting to holding himself up with both arms so he could take as long as he wanted at this. He leaned in again like a push-up, taking the left side of Sylar’s lower lip and repeating the process. Breathy, faint whines were music to his ears, encouraging him to move on to the right and then the upper lip. Sylar’s mouth gaped open for him, hands cupping his sides and hips shifting in response. Peter made a circuit, sucking and nipping at every portion of the lips before him, treated to a deep, huffing exhalation of appreciation on Sylar’s part.
Peter lifted and gave him a lazy, crooked smile, something of a smirk - too relaxed and full of himself to put the extra work in to straighten his face. He’d seen people stoned out of their skulls with pupils less dilated than Sylar’s were now. He dipped back to give a lingering, sucking kiss to Sylar’s left cheek, nudging him with his nose to get him to turn his face. Sylar was so eager, so willing to receive affection. He was practically squirming like a happy puppy. It made Peter ecstatic, heady with second-hand joy. He savored the difference between the smooth skin higher up on Sylar’s cheek and the stubble below. It wasn’t long, as Sylar had shaved only that morning, but the busy growth stiffened and thickened the skin, making the surface already rough against Peter’s lips and tongue. He tasted all the way to Sylar’s ear, sucking in the lobe to a louder, less-inhibited groan from Sylar.
“Ha,” Peter puffed directly into his ear, provoking an unexpected, unsexy clutching and Sylar to turn his head, eyes wide and uncertain again, to look at him. “Easy,” Peter crooned. “I won't do it again.”
Sylar's eyes cast over him uncertainly, but the trust reappeared faster this time. Peter leaned in to give the earlobe a tiny, sedate peck before lifting and looking at Sylar again, this time getting the acquiescence he wanted as Sylar's eyes slid mostly shut and he turned his face to make his ear more accessible even though Peter was willing to move elsewhere entirely if that was what Sylar wanted.
It didn't seem to be what he wanted. “Yeah,” Peter breathed next to it, running the tip of his nose up and down the outer rim as he stayed tuned to Sylar's responses with hyper-alertness. “You don't like people blowing in your ear?”
Sylar shrugged with a tension that hadn't been there a moment before. “I don't know,” he said, his voice small and frustrated. But this was leagues ahead of where their communication had been a few days ago. It was all such a careful, high-stakes dance.
Peter ran his nose up and down a few more times, then turned and rubbed lightly with his cheek. The tension drained out of his lover and the hands that had become motionless on his sides started moving again. Peter put his face parallel with Sylar's and simply breathed - not into his ear, just next to it, scouting out the territory that Sylar wanted to mark 'keep out'.
Sylar chuckled, wrapping his arms around Peter and pulling them close, skin to skin from head to groin. “I know what you're doing, Peter. You're checking. My ears aren't like yours. It was just … a lot at once.”
Peter burrowed his face against the side of Sylar's head, reveling in the scent, the texture of the fine hairs, the warmth against him, strong arms around him, a nearly erect cock between them - Sylar was ready for round two, Peter wasn't there yet, but he would be soon. “Don't be afraid to tell me your limits.”
Sylar was still for a moment, then nodded silently. In that small admission, Peter felt he'd achieved a victory.
Characters: Peter, Sylar
Rating: NC-17
Words: 850
Summary: After the sex, Peter makes love.
Peter roused himself from the post-coital bliss, rolling and lifting himself slowly onto hands and knees so he could crawl closer to his new lover. Sylar, more-or-less spread-eagled in careless relaxation, pulled his limbs in a little in mild defensiveness, eyes scanning over Peter’s face. Peter gave him a gentle smile for reassurance, then propped himself with one hand on the bed next to Sylar's pillow, the other taking Sylar’s chin and holding him in place. Sylar stayed perfectly still for that, not even stiffening; it was something Peter had noticed - most people jumped when surprised, but Sylar stilled. Sylar had given him free rein to use him as he would. Peter expected he’d like this.
He leaned in slowly, tongue moving out to flick at the skin between chin and lower lip, tasting the salt and mild residue of the many reckless, passionate kisses they’d already shared. Sylar sighed, lids drooping and hands moving slightly as he broke from the artificial immobility. Peter moved in slightly more, guided by instinct and desire rather than any conscious thought, and sucked a bit of Sylar’s luscious lower lip into his mouth. He kneaded it between lips and with tongue four or five times before dragging over it with his teeth, accompanied by a growl.
Sylar moaned in delighted pleasure, his hands finding the bare skin of Peter’s sides and touching. Peter straddled him, adjusting to holding himself up with both arms so he could take as long as he wanted at this. He leaned in again like a push-up, taking the left side of Sylar’s lower lip and repeating the process. Breathy, faint whines were music to his ears, encouraging him to move on to the right and then the upper lip. Sylar’s mouth gaped open for him, hands cupping his sides and hips shifting in response. Peter made a circuit, sucking and nipping at every portion of the lips before him, treated to a deep, huffing exhalation of appreciation on Sylar’s part.
Peter lifted and gave him a lazy, crooked smile, something of a smirk - too relaxed and full of himself to put the extra work in to straighten his face. He’d seen people stoned out of their skulls with pupils less dilated than Sylar’s were now. He dipped back to give a lingering, sucking kiss to Sylar’s left cheek, nudging him with his nose to get him to turn his face. Sylar was so eager, so willing to receive affection. He was practically squirming like a happy puppy. It made Peter ecstatic, heady with second-hand joy. He savored the difference between the smooth skin higher up on Sylar’s cheek and the stubble below. It wasn’t long, as Sylar had shaved only that morning, but the busy growth stiffened and thickened the skin, making the surface already rough against Peter’s lips and tongue. He tasted all the way to Sylar’s ear, sucking in the lobe to a louder, less-inhibited groan from Sylar.
“Ha,” Peter puffed directly into his ear, provoking an unexpected, unsexy clutching and Sylar to turn his head, eyes wide and uncertain again, to look at him. “Easy,” Peter crooned. “I won't do it again.”
Sylar's eyes cast over him uncertainly, but the trust reappeared faster this time. Peter leaned in to give the earlobe a tiny, sedate peck before lifting and looking at Sylar again, this time getting the acquiescence he wanted as Sylar's eyes slid mostly shut and he turned his face to make his ear more accessible even though Peter was willing to move elsewhere entirely if that was what Sylar wanted.
It didn't seem to be what he wanted. “Yeah,” Peter breathed next to it, running the tip of his nose up and down the outer rim as he stayed tuned to Sylar's responses with hyper-alertness. “You don't like people blowing in your ear?”
Sylar shrugged with a tension that hadn't been there a moment before. “I don't know,” he said, his voice small and frustrated. But this was leagues ahead of where their communication had been a few days ago. It was all such a careful, high-stakes dance.
Peter ran his nose up and down a few more times, then turned and rubbed lightly with his cheek. The tension drained out of his lover and the hands that had become motionless on his sides started moving again. Peter put his face parallel with Sylar's and simply breathed - not into his ear, just next to it, scouting out the territory that Sylar wanted to mark 'keep out'.
Sylar chuckled, wrapping his arms around Peter and pulling them close, skin to skin from head to groin. “I know what you're doing, Peter. You're checking. My ears aren't like yours. It was just … a lot at once.”
Peter burrowed his face against the side of Sylar's head, reveling in the scent, the texture of the fine hairs, the warmth against him, strong arms around him, a nearly erect cock between them - Sylar was ready for round two, Peter wasn't there yet, but he would be soon. “Don't be afraid to tell me your limits.”
Sylar was still for a moment, then nodded silently. In that small admission, Peter felt he'd achieved a victory.