Bricks in the Wall, Chapter 68: Soporific
Title: Soporific
Characters: Peter Petrelli (others imagined)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Fantasy sex, masturbation, thoughts of incest
Words: 1100
Summary: Sylar has revealed to Peter that not all of Nathan's thoughts of Peter were pure. Peter finds himself surprisingly turned on by that.
Notes: This will make more sense once we get chapter 91 of More Between Us Than a Wall published. It will also be referenced again in chapter 95.
Peter sat on the end of his bed, straddling one of the corners. His shirt was discarded nearby, along with socks and shoes - pants were still on, though. His fingers traveled from mid-chest to his shoulder, feeling along where Sylar had gripped it as he told him about Nathan's feelings for him. It was a lot to process. Even though Peter had walked away from Sylar and his offer, he couldn't walk away from his own thoughts. He'd spent the day running from them, but he knew there was no sleep to be had until he dealt with them.
'Some of his love wasn't so brotherly, Peter.' That was what Sylar had said. What would that have been like, being with Nathan, in bed, intimately? It was somehow easier to think of now that Nathan was gone. Whatever Peter considered or fantasized or decided wasn't going to make for an awkward Sunday brunch. That ship had sailed, leaving him free to consider what might have been, had he been a passenger.
He rubbed his shoulder slowly, unconsciously recreating Sylar's touches upon him. Would Nathan have trod him as roughly in sex as he did in real (non-sexual) life? Would he have been as callous and falsely careless about Peter's feelings? Would fucking Peter have just been an extension of the older, wiser, telling-Peter-how-to-run-his-life brother that Nathan was? Or would Nathan have let down the façade? Would the intimacy have cracked the tough pretense and maybe in bed he would be … gentle, or even considerate? Was it possible? It seemed unlikely. He was Nathan, after all. His basic character wouldn't change. But what if Peter was the one who was dominant? Could that even happen? Peter wondered. Nathan was … soft inside. 'Weak', Peter's parents would have called it and it seemed preposterous that neither of them ever seemed to see that. They were too busy projecting onto their eldest son what they wanted him to be, Peter supposed. How would that 'weakness' play out in bed? Did, maybe, Nathan want to be topped? Topping and domination didn't necessarily go hand-in-hand as Peter was well aware, but with Nathan he was pretty sure the two would be inseparable. Would Nathan allow it?
Peter opened his pants with his right hand, pushing them down. He was suddenly hard - painfully so in the confines of his jeans. Finally free, he touched himself lightly. His lids fluttered as the fingers of his left hand, still lingering on his shoulder, moved up to trace the spots where Sylar's mouth had kissed his neck this morning, before their fight. "Mmm." He made a soft, unashamed moan. No one could hear him. Even if exploring with Nathan was impossible (not that he ever would have, he told himself, even knowing Nathan had had 'thoughts'), there was still Sylar. Peter had denounced the idea of doing Sylar-as-Nathan and such a thing still struck him as depraved, but the idea of doing Sylar-as-Sylar, Nathan's memories and all - maybe that wasn't so depraved. Certainly Sylar was eager to try it.
He stroked faster. It wouldn't take long - he could feel it. Something about this subject turned his crank so hard that it would take him little more than seconds. The skin on his neck, a little up from where Sylar had kissed him, was hot and tender from where he'd been bitten. Sylar … Sylar did that. He'd done it when he could have done worse; done it instead of making any more effective attempt to avoid Peter's blows. It was like he'd exposed himself to the pain just for the opportunity - he wanted Peter that badly. Peter pressed at the sensitive flesh. It hurt. His dick stiffened further, if that was even possible. He groaned aloud, thinking he would come right then, but he only skirted the delicious edge before easing back. What else was it Sylar had said? 'I want to ruin you, possess you, use you …' Oh yes. Peter wasn't going to allow any of that. It was dangerous, as well as stupid. But like with Nathan, what if there was another way? Sylar was probably just as hung up as Nathan about topping and dominance (letting him take anything even hinting at a superior role was likely to be disastrous for Peter), but that didn't rule out the opposite. It simply mandated it. And Peter … wasn't entirely unwilling to take it. (Particularly not in fantasy with his throbbing cock in his hand.) 'Just take what your body already wants. Take it and you can have it.'
Peter's hand on his dick moved faster. His breathing became strained as his peak came over him. The sensation and the thoughts blended together as the fantasy of being with Sylar lost coherence. It was a mess of images of fucking his ass, pushing him down and forcing him to submit, Sylar's flushed face, steaming and wet-from-the-shower body, the scent of him heavy in the bed they'd shared, eyes so luminous and dark and rich and expressive, lips questing hungrily for Peter's, Sylar's hands touching him with so much delicacy when they were capable of inflicting so much pain.
Peter came in a hot surge, gasping at the intensity of it. He almost never came that hard alone. Sometimes he couldn't even manage orgasm at all when by himself. He didn't want to think about why his subconscious found this to be such a turn-on. For once, the rest of his head was perfectly content to let it lie.
His hand dropped away from the bruise on his neck, which he'd squeezed and prodded on the way to his climax almost as hard as Sylar had bitten him to start with. He slumped back on the bed, panting and wiping the wet fingers of his other hand on the nearby shirt. He dabbed at himself half-heartedly, then lay quietly to enjoy the buzz. He was pretty sure he could sleep now.