Bricks in the Wall, Chapter 69: Temptation
Title: Temptation
Characters: Peter, Sylar
Words: 1200
Rating: R
Warnings: A halfway non-consensual kiss.
Setting: The Wall
Summary: Peter finds Sylar (nearly) irresistible.
Peter woke with Sylar pillowed on his chest, tucked under his arm like a child. The long lashes and peaceful expression on the man's face reinforced the impression. He looked so innocent, unguarded, and needful of protection like this. Despite it being Sylar, Peter couldn't bear to disturb him. Sylar didn't know Peter was awake, so there was no requirement to move away. For a time at least, Peter knew he could bask in the cuddly warmth without repercussion. Pleased by that, he stroked Sylar's back slowly a few times before letting slumber reclaim him.
When he woke again, Sylar was shifting like he was uncomfortable. Peter suspected his neck might be bothering him. It was a tough position to keep for very long. He slipped to the side, lifting his arm and letting his drowsing companion ease down to the mattress alone. Peter sat up on the edge of the bed, where he rubbed at his shoulder. It wasn't sore so much as stiff. He rolled it through its range of motion. Behind him, Sylar made a sleepy, half-protesting noise and fingers trailed over Peter's lower back.
Peter turned, hiking up one knee and facing a lovely sight. Disheveled bed-hair fell across part of Sylar's face. His expression was bereft at Peter's departure. Muscular shoulders were bared by the singlet the man had worn to bed. The rest of him was lost under the blanket. Sylar's hand pulled back a little to tease along the outer edge of Peter's nearer leg. Peter was in sweat pants and a short-sleeved t-shirt. Large, dark eyes partly screened by the hair peered up at him hopefully. He didn't ask Peter to come back to bed, but Peter didn't need the words to be spoken to hear the request.
He didn't want to - he was done sleeping and he suspected that what Sylar wanted him for had nothing to do with sleep, innocence, or protection. It was tempting all the same. He felt a yearning inside for the intimacy, the friendly contact, letting down his defenses and letting someone in. But it would be a false intimacy, or at least only a physical one, Peter thought. Their relationship might encompass sharing a bed and even comforting one another from nightmares, but a fully awake Sylar was often mean-spirited and unpredictable, not to mention his past. It was hard for Peter to hold that in his mind while looking at Sylar, though. At the moment, he looked incredible - somehow managing to look kind, vulnerable, and thoughtful all at once.
Peter reached down for Sylar's hand and touched across the long, straight bones of his index finger, then over the bump of knuckle to the veined tendons on the back of his hand. Sylar stilled, watching Peter's hand as it traced back and forth over the man's wrist, then traveled up his forearm. It was very hairy. Peter lingered there to straighten the wayward hairs. He felt Sylar breathe out softly, having held his breath from Peter's first touch. Peter raised his eyes and as Sylar's flicked up to meet them, uncertainty and need stamped on Sylar's features.
"You are beautiful," Peter murmured, heartfelt. He glanced up and down Sylar's body to indicate all of it. He meant nothing feminine about the word. He could have as easily described Sylar as magnificent, but that would have lost the sense of allure Peter felt for him, the desire. Sylar licked his lips and swallowed. Peter curled his fingers around to the softer, silky-smooth skin on the underside of Sylar's forearm and at this, Sylar breathed out the faintest moan.
Peter had to stop himself from climbing on top of the man. He wanted to so bad - to get back under the covers and bring forth more of those sounds of appreciation and pleasure. The yearning inside was a conflagration now, burning him up inside. He was stiffening in the loose sweat pants, which were still too clingy by far to Peter's current mind. He killed my brother. This isn't right. Don't do this. He's just a pretty face. No!
With an effort almost physical, Peter tore himself away and stood, breath coming harder than it should for such a small thing. He moved away, around the end of the bed, as Sylar winced and flopped over on his back, eyes shut in frustration. Peter stopped there, regarding Sylar with hungry eyes and an erection that wasn't going away. He felt like he was trembling inside. He still wanted to go back. Sylar's eyes opened to slits, then fully, looking back at him and taking in how obviously tempted Peter was, how close and how desperately he wanted what he shouldn't have.
Sylar whipped off the cover and stood in singlet and pajama pants, no less aroused than Peter was if the folds of the pants were any indication. He strode to him forcefully and whatever his intention was, he wasn't stopping to make sure Peter was on board with it. If Peter was teetering in his resolve, then Sylar was determined to unbalance him. "No!" Peter reached out to heel punch the oncoming man in the sternum, but Sylar expected it. He snatched the wrist and jerked it to the side before pressing himself into Peter, against him, their bodies flush and firm against one another.
Oh God. Peter's trembling wasn't purely internal anymore. Almost all of the same motion, Sylar kissed him, hard and full on the mouth, demanding what wasn't his. Some shred of self-control finally reasserted itself in Peter's mind at that. If Sylar had been just a bit more tentative, Peter might have been lost, but he was long since tired of being bossed around in all aspects of his life. Sylar didn't get that privilege. Instead of shoving away, he reached up with his free hand, slow and non-confrontational. Sylar let it pass, consumed in the kiss, rolling his eyes when Peter caressed his cheek and ignoring it as Peter moved his hand on to his ear. At that point, he grabbed, twisted, and yanked downward.
With a pained noise, Sylar released his wrist to flail at the unexpected pain. Peter grabbed his shoulder and shoved down in the same direction he was pulling on the man's ear. It was a pressure point and a good one. Sylar went to his knees and Peter let up on the twisting. Sylar's hand was on his now, not quite pulling him away for fear that Peter wouldn't let go his grip. Sylar's eyes went to Peter's triumphant face, then dropped to his groin where Peter was still rampant despite the violence. A leer spread over Sylar's features and he opened his mouth, licking the corner of it and looking up at Peter with brows raised slightly in question.
Peter huffed half a laugh at the offer to blow him. Now that was something tempting, too, but in a different way. "Ha. No. Not today." He let go of Sylar's ear entirely and gave the man a light push backwards followed by Peter backing off.
Sylar swayed, leering grin still in place. "Someday," he said and Peter couldn't contradict him.