Happily Ever After
Title: Happily Ever After
Characters: Gabriel Gray/Peter Petrelli
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: m/m smut, some loving, playful roughness and exhibition, abuse of workplace, possibly swear words.
Word count: ~3500
Setting: 3+ years post-BNW
Summary: (Sucky summary ahead) Gabriel gets the hots for Peter after seeing him at work. Loving ensues.
A/N: Look! I wrote framing! I'm so proud! This is what came, very clearly, to my mind when I knew the challenge was 'endings.' It's not that fluffy despite the rather lame title. Unbeta'd. Written for the heroes_contest Final Challenge "Endings."
“You’re so hot.”
Gabriel murmured that to Peter after he’d pulled him aside.
He’d just witnessed the empath bring a dying heart attack victim back to life, right there on Mercy’s emergency room floor. Peter was only here to stabilize a suicide they’d saved, dropping the patient off after a gurney ride in the ambulance; otherwise a resident staff member, a nurse or doctor would have seen to the old women who’s daughter had noticed her odd speech pattern and numb tongue. As it worked out, Peter was both ambulatory and observant savior, going above and beyond as usual.
Gabriel had watched, fascinated not only by the speed, surety and competence Peter and Hesam handled the pair of patients (not to mention the sudden transition between handing off the suicide on the gurney and the leap to assist the fallen senior). He was quite taken with watching Peter’s biceps while he pounded the heel of his hand into the old lady’s chest. They were hard, smooth, large and rippling; the man’s forearms were lean and wired with veins and tendons. Even from where he stood, Gabriel could hear the snap of bones, sternum and ribs. Empathy was somewhat distant from him, having once been a ruthless murderer unafraid to dirty his hands in blood and take life. He didn’t know the lady personally so that was another step removed for him. If she was going to die, she would. If Peter could save her, he would. Gabriel didn’t want her to die, mostly because of the daughter’s distraught face as she knelt beside her mother’s head during the CPR. Gabriel didn’t want her to die so Peter didn’t have to deal with it. Strange, warped and perhaps wrong motivations, even if he felt his heart was in an okay place.
. . .
Before that, a woman had tried to pick him up as he sat in the waiting room, awaiting Peter. She was in her mid-twenties, brunette, good looking if he chose to notice, both body and face. Mostly he noticed she wasn’t a threat. The rest he tried to ignore as it felt like his intelligence was being insulted while his ego was stroked. Apparently having given up his homicidal ways meant he’d been sufficiently domesticated to look like a viable mate to this woman. Little did she know. His aura of death wasn’t up to snuff today or something because she kept checking him out. She was pressed against the wooden arms of the chairs that separated them. Gabriel just wondered what she was here for as he tried to bury himself deeper into Reader’s Digest. The problem was that he read too fast, he had to slow down. Or maybe get another magazine as a break away and sit elsewhere…
“There he is,” he’d said to end the going-nowhere conversation. Peter had made his entrance with the gurney and Hesam and tow. Not a moment too soon.
“That’s him?” the woman had asked, surprise and appreciation in her voice as she doubtlessly ogled his lover.
Gabriel didn’t like that much. “Yeah,” he said shortly, making to leave.
“Isn’t that the Petrelli guy? The one who saved all those people?”
“That’s him,” Gabriel stated, pride exuding from him. Peter was his and Peter was amazing. People should know his name and not as some put-down, ‘oh you’re related to them’ recognition. Peter now had a name in his own right; doing the thing he loved doing. He’d earned that much.
“He’s amazing,” she echoed his thoughts, sounding a little too taken with his boyfriend. Since she’d bored him to death and back and made him paranoid of public groping, Gabriel decided he could put her off a bit, politely of course, keeping things verbal-only.
“You have no idea: you haven’t slept with him,” he smirked and strode off.
. . .
So there he stood with his hero, tucked into a quieter, rarer corner of the waiting room. Staff members were still walking around, of course, within view. The suicide had been the last of Peter’s shift, or ‘tour’ as Peter had tried to school him. Gabriel was here to meet up with him for a bite to eat before taking him home.
“You’re so hot.”
Peter gave him a tired grin, a little sweaty from the exertions despite being in very nice shape. The paramedic uniform fit him perfectly, the dark blue of the soft shirt a lovely color on him, his pants hugged him enough to tease. Yes, the hospital smelled like death, sorrow and enough chemicals to kill an army, but Peter…he smelled good beneath all that. He was gorgeous.
Gabriel knew Peter was close to Hesam, and to Emma. He was close to the whole staff of Mercy, really. That didn’t really bother Gabriel, except that Peter was bonding to someone other than him, but his possessiveness wasn’t really the point. The point was, he didn’t know how much Peter had told anyone about….them. By sheer force of will not to embarrass or out Peter (or summarily get in trouble, no matter what he’d said to that over-sexed woman), Gabriel held off pawing at him like he wanted to.
The slightest hint of needing to lay claim to what belonged to him, his own little slice of heaven motivated him. That and rewarding his boyfriend as well as he could.
“Take me somewhere and fuck me up,” he rasped lustily into Peter’s ear.
He kept his expression mostly neutral except for his eyes, letting them bore into Peter’s to communicate his need. He parted his lips a little. “Come on,” he inched closer; wanting to feel his lover’s warmth, smell his scent from the source. Seeing Peter working hard, being happy, doing good was a surprising aphrodisiac. He wanted to get some of that (wanted to rub it all over himself, actually). Gabriel pressed himself to Peter’s side. It was a real departure from his usually unfavorable attitude towards PDA. Exhibitionism was embarrassing but it got Peter going and this was far from explicit or obvious. Once in place, he shifted his hips to rub his half-mast dick against his lover.
“Please.” He could tell his desires were having the intended effect. Peter licked his lips and looked away, thinking about it. Gabriel slid his hand up and down the other man’s bicep, solicitous and completely seductive. He knew what he wanted and he wanted Peter to be equally desirous. It shouldn’t take much effort or time. Peter was tired and stressed - moldable clay that would harden with words and seemingly innocent touches. He knew the contact, even so slight, would drive his lover crazy - the public display. It was hot to watch Peter’s body temperature rise, his pupils dilate and his dick stiffen.
“Okay,” Peter croaked, and strode off, not towards the doors, but deeper into the hospital.
“Oh, yeah,” Gabriel growled, following at a socially appropriate distance instead of riding Peter like he wanted to be.
. . .
The rough shove against the metal shelving made noise and stung a little. He had Peter right where he wanted him: too horny to think. The feeling was mutual. The shove (and horniness) may have been the result of Gabriel purring naughty things at Peter’s back as they walked down the hall, loud enough for passers-by to overhear…As it was, the back of Peter’s neck was flushed. Peter might be a tad pissed about that…But whatever got him fucked good and hard was fair in love and war.
The door didn’t come with a lock - probably to prevent things like this from happening. Gabriel peeled off his coat with enticing motions, tossing it aside with a flourish. Peter had unzipped his pants, poking his erection out towards him. Fuck. What a hot, dirty boy he was tonight. Gabriel smirked and waited.
“Do it,” was the growled command.
He dropped to his knees in front of Peter, murmuring, “You know what I like,” before his lips were breached, his mouth forced around the waiting shaft. He gagged and spit, moaning about it in symphony with Peter’s groan. Immediately he got to servicing Peter, slurping and sucking him down. The paramedic opened his belt and shucked his pants to his thighs, spreading them and leaning back on instinct - his only handhold was Gabriel’s hair, which the medic used to pump his mouth onto the phallus. The cock in his mouth was wide and slick, rubbing over his tongue and inside his oral cavity, teasing at blocking his throat. The cock in his pants was leaking but his hands were at Peter’s hips before he shoved at Peter’s shirt, digging his hands under it to paw at the warm, firm muscles below. He enjoyed Peter’s sigh before pinching the man’s nipples eagerly.
Peter didn’t stick with the blow job for long. Gabriel didn’t care either way, but he whined when his lover yanked his head back and leaned down to consume him with kissing. Peter’s mouth was open wide, kissing him with ferocity, almost an angry passion and Gabriel was eating it up, literally. The smaller man tasted of warmth and tongue.
When Peter broke away with a wet smack of lips, making to pull his shirt off, he growled with definite heat, “People could have heard you. Dirty mouth.”
The shirt came off and during that break; Gabriel attached his mouth to the hollow of Peter’s throat, tasting the sweat and detergent of his skin with tongue and lips. Peter determined to get their clothes off, opening Gabriel’s pants now whilst Gabriel made that task difficult by feeling up every crevice and muscular bulge. He wanted to inhale Peter through his hands, because that birthday suit was perfection. After that he buried his teeth in Peter’s neck, earning a grunt and a yank to his hair which had the opposite effect intended; his next target was shoulder then chest, tugging on a nipple before giving it much the same treatment he’d given Peter’s cock. From there, he answered around Peter’s panted breathing and obscenely delicious sex sounds, “Oops. So punish me,” he rasped around the nipple. God, Peter was short.
“Is that what you want?” Peter bitched, sounding a little surprised but definitely taken with the situation and the offer.
Gabriel straightened and pressed skin-tight against him, feeling Peter’s dick trapped beside his own between them, hands full of Peter’s fantastic buttocks. “Fuck me. Get inside, give it to me,” he pleaded in a gruff voice. He needed this; he wouldn’t allow Peter to deny him. This had to happen, here and now.
Peter answered him by kissing and sucking at his neck as he opened Gabriel’s shirt buttons. Moaning Gabriel arched himself while holding onto a shoulder and hip to hump at Peter’s firm abdomen and his solid dick, pleasuring them both with each stroke. He could feel his precum being smeared over his lover’s skin, sticking between them. He was breathing heavily, feeling flushed, drowning in hormones and desires. “Peter…yes!” he encouraged when the man shoved his shirt off. The air was colder, attacking his chest and arms; the sensations sharpened with goose bumps. He clung to Peter now to stay warm in the chilly atmosphere of the hospital, even in a storeroom.
Gabriel’s hand left his shoulder to wrap around an equally aroused erection, pumping it just to drive Peter crazy. The smaller man moaned, clutching him with desperate energy - he was so sexy; he had to know that, so sensual and honest. The cock was firm and needy, a pulsing dusky pink in his hand, tugging at the head just this side of being harsh. Peter vocalized like porn star; it was heaven.
Finally, his partner whined and couldn’t take it anymore. Gabriel stumbled when he tried to get his booted foot out of one leg of his pants. Peter helped catch him and assisting in yanking off the pant-leg to he could spread his legs properly. “In, Peter. Now!” He snarled, practically shaking with his arousal.
“Shut up,” was the reply. Odd that Peter was more aware and paranoid about being caught but then again, it was his workplace, not Gabriel’s.
He took hold of Peter’s hair, something the younger man wasn’t fond off - he did it to get the following reaction as he’d roughly kissed his lover. Peter grunted and spanked his ass with a resounding sting, making him jump a little. “Take me; I want you,” Gabriel egged him on.
“Turn around,” Peter turned him away and squeezed his cheeks. Gabriel bent over with legs spread and ass lifted, supporting himself by gripping the shelving, rubbed himself against Peter, offering himself up greedily, willingly. His chest was tight and air was scarce. His spare hand roamed his skin, chest and groin mostly, fingertips catching on barely sweaty flesh as he awaited penetration. He was going to burst one way or other.
“Lube?” Peter asked shortly, fingers already tracing up and down the crease of his ass, the tips teasing at the wrinkled opening.
“Pants,” Gabriel gasped out, hating every second of delay. “Left front pocket.” Yes, he kept lube handy because he was the be-prepared type (and sitting on a lube packet in the back pocket was going to end in embarrassment).
Once more Peter grunted, equally unhappy with the wait, but he leaned over and procured the packet, nipping Gabriel’s thigh on his way, lush hair brushing his hip.
“Don’t even think about teasing m- Ah!” Gabriel’s threat was lost when Peter plunged a pair of slick fingers inside him. Jesus, that was just what he needed. Peter really did know what he liked. “Uuh, yeah!” the taller man whined loudly. Mostly he couldn’t help it but his noises always got Peter off. In and out, not as rough as he could be but hardly gentle, Peter’s digits pushed inside deliciously with a wonderful burn. He gave his throbbing dick a few rough jerks, all the more pleasurable for being unlubricated, the dichotomy a thrill as his ass ached. His cock was desperate for friction but he needed to be pounded for completion and release - having Peter in him was crucial.
“Oh, Peter…” he verbally worshipped, giving up everything in hopes that Peter would take it, keep it and find satisfaction with him. He was ready; breathing choked when Peter twisted his fingers within him and began to glide his fingertips over the so-horny gland inside.
Gabriel groaned, his eyes rolling shut and he slid back on those fingers. It tingled and made his dick lurch, melting his nerves and vision. “I said…don’t…”
Peter was unrepentant, “This is what you get for talking filth about me in front of my co-workers.”
Gabriel made some vague acknowledgements that sounded a lot like pleas, pumping his cock. His lover pressed a third finger inside to his discomfort and dismay, but the pace increased until Peter was fingerfucking him apart. It felt so good, it felt too good. It was just too much. “In me!” he barked and slammed his hand down on the shelving, making a loud rattle.
Peter yanked his hair back and slapped his ass again but complied. Gabriel found himself crying out from behind Peter’s silencing hand as he was filled with a thick erection in one solid stroke. Tears sprung from his eyes with the unadultured pleasure-pain of burning violation. It took his oxygen; he sobbed before he moaned - his rectum stretched and clenching, held open around his partner’s cock. Peter was buried in him, about to fuck his brains out and grind against his prostate with something much better than fingers. He was still tight even after three digits. It was rapture.
Peter petted his slack lips before releasing them, using the curve of groin and thigh - just around his balls - as his handles, sighing out as he sunk in, “Oooh…” It was music to Gabriel’s ears; the hands on him were that much more of a tease. He stroked Peter’s hands on him, feeling the strength there, his own hand drifting over his stiff cock as the thrusting began. Soon Peter was sliding into him. His lover gave it to him, with groans and exhales of dominating pleasure; Peter reamed him out until Gabriel could hear the slaps and smacks of Peter perforating inside, his cheeks being bounced around against Peter’s pelvis. The firm cock was tugging and massaging at the rings of muscle inside him and every drive inwards plunged the knob of Peter’s tip deeper sent a fresh wave of blood to up the ache in the watchmaker’s heavy penis. Gabriel began clenching on instinctive principal; his body trying to both reject and embrace the organ fucking him. His frame trembled from being bent over but Peter only increased the curve in his back until…
An “Uh!” noise was ripped from him as Peter grazed the tender spot inside him. Quickly, Gabriel upped his participation, pushing, grinding back to spear himself on that dirty-juicy-hot spike of Peter-flesh in his ass. The contact was intermittent, imperfect but it only teased his arousal higher. His dick was on fire and he had time to pet his chest, massage his nipples with a few brief passes before he was pumping his inflamed erection. His limbs shook from the position, precarious with balance even though he was braced, leaning against the shelves. “Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! P-eter, oh my God, Peter…” He could distantly hear Peter; his own lust-washed octave was pathetically high-pitched but it only did that when he was drowning in the sex. God, hopefully someone heard. Saint Peter was going to martyr him with dick but it would be such a sweet and rewarding way to go - innocently and sexually fulfilling his lover’s fetish.
Peter was grunting like the beast he was, riding him, clapping that much harder into him with sharp jerks of his pelvis to increase his penetration. It was just what he wanted. Gabriel pictured that angelic face, flushed with sweat, red lower lip being bitten irregularly, lust in those darkened hazel eyes; mouth gaping open to groan as he stared intently at where they were joined…Yep, that was going to do it for him. For both of them.
Keening and moaning in the back of his throat, not holding back, Gabriel’s hand blurred over his sticky cock, abusing the nerves, twisting his grip. Orgasm rolled over him, taking him under, sizzling down his spine until it burned away at his groin and ejaculate spilled over his hand. “OoH!” His vision shattered with purple, red and black with sparkling yellow stars. Breathing was unnecessary after his release; his heart beat fast enough to worry even an immortal - he sagged, gasping like a fish trying to recover. Peter was having none of it (or maybe he was having all of it); the man kept ramming into him, rubbing his insides to overwhelming sensitivity. Gabriel heard himself making completely whorish sounds as pleasure continued to climb. Getting Peter off was seriously hot and dangerous business.
Gabriel wanted more; he wanted it to stop; it was too much, but the moans from behind him were a convincing argument. “Ye-ah…!” he breathed encouragingly, hoping his lover heard him, hoping it sent him over into equal bliss. “Give it to me…” Submissive thoughts were his mantra until Peter gripped his hips, the rhythm going wild and hard, the sounds louder - wet flesh-on-flesh and the noises of a climaxing Petrelli.
“Oh….oh, yeah….Fuck!” the last word was spat out from behind as Gabriel felt the wetness gush inside him, disgusting and delightfully dirty. He took that as a sign of approval, desire, and possession. Strangely Gabriel was the one who felt possessive of Peter after that particular act.
A few moments of aftershock-and-aftermath later, Peter had recovered some. “You get that out of your system now? You gonna be behave in public?” Peter spoke in bursts around his heavy breathing, still sounding lost in the moment. A tug on his hair served to back up Peter’s question.
Gabriel grinned and bumped his butt back against Peter in teasing, “Hmm hmm,” he released a pleased hum. And he would behave…for now.
Footsteps and shadows passed the door but no one looked in the window. Peter reacted all the same, guilty and nervous. Gabriel soothed by petting his lover’s forearm as it slid away from holding him. He was still recovering, feeling deliciously used and spent, moving sluggishly. He stole several slow kisses from his lover, rubbing his shoulders to take the edge off the worry of being found. Peter looked better after that, happy as he relaxed.
As he watched Peter dress, an entrancing act in itself, he wondered at how sexy Peter was; how lucky he was, blessed if he dared use that word. They were two lonely hearts, together finding purpose, peace, joy and fantastic sex. This was definitely some special kind of happy ending.
Characters: Gabriel Gray/Peter Petrelli
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: m/m smut, some loving, playful roughness and exhibition, abuse of workplace, possibly swear words.
Word count: ~3500
Setting: 3+ years post-BNW
Summary: (Sucky summary ahead) Gabriel gets the hots for Peter after seeing him at work. Loving ensues.
A/N: Look! I wrote framing! I'm so proud! This is what came, very clearly, to my mind when I knew the challenge was 'endings.' It's not that fluffy despite the rather lame title. Unbeta'd. Written for the heroes_contest Final Challenge "Endings."
“You’re so hot.”
Gabriel murmured that to Peter after he’d pulled him aside.
He’d just witnessed the empath bring a dying heart attack victim back to life, right there on Mercy’s emergency room floor. Peter was only here to stabilize a suicide they’d saved, dropping the patient off after a gurney ride in the ambulance; otherwise a resident staff member, a nurse or doctor would have seen to the old women who’s daughter had noticed her odd speech pattern and numb tongue. As it worked out, Peter was both ambulatory and observant savior, going above and beyond as usual.
Gabriel had watched, fascinated not only by the speed, surety and competence Peter and Hesam handled the pair of patients (not to mention the sudden transition between handing off the suicide on the gurney and the leap to assist the fallen senior). He was quite taken with watching Peter’s biceps while he pounded the heel of his hand into the old lady’s chest. They were hard, smooth, large and rippling; the man’s forearms were lean and wired with veins and tendons. Even from where he stood, Gabriel could hear the snap of bones, sternum and ribs. Empathy was somewhat distant from him, having once been a ruthless murderer unafraid to dirty his hands in blood and take life. He didn’t know the lady personally so that was another step removed for him. If she was going to die, she would. If Peter could save her, he would. Gabriel didn’t want her to die, mostly because of the daughter’s distraught face as she knelt beside her mother’s head during the CPR. Gabriel didn’t want her to die so Peter didn’t have to deal with it. Strange, warped and perhaps wrong motivations, even if he felt his heart was in an okay place.
. . .
Before that, a woman had tried to pick him up as he sat in the waiting room, awaiting Peter. She was in her mid-twenties, brunette, good looking if he chose to notice, both body and face. Mostly he noticed she wasn’t a threat. The rest he tried to ignore as it felt like his intelligence was being insulted while his ego was stroked. Apparently having given up his homicidal ways meant he’d been sufficiently domesticated to look like a viable mate to this woman. Little did she know. His aura of death wasn’t up to snuff today or something because she kept checking him out. She was pressed against the wooden arms of the chairs that separated them. Gabriel just wondered what she was here for as he tried to bury himself deeper into Reader’s Digest. The problem was that he read too fast, he had to slow down. Or maybe get another magazine as a break away and sit elsewhere…
“There he is,” he’d said to end the going-nowhere conversation. Peter had made his entrance with the gurney and Hesam and tow. Not a moment too soon.
“That’s him?” the woman had asked, surprise and appreciation in her voice as she doubtlessly ogled his lover.
Gabriel didn’t like that much. “Yeah,” he said shortly, making to leave.
“Isn’t that the Petrelli guy? The one who saved all those people?”
“That’s him,” Gabriel stated, pride exuding from him. Peter was his and Peter was amazing. People should know his name and not as some put-down, ‘oh you’re related to them’ recognition. Peter now had a name in his own right; doing the thing he loved doing. He’d earned that much.
“He’s amazing,” she echoed his thoughts, sounding a little too taken with his boyfriend. Since she’d bored him to death and back and made him paranoid of public groping, Gabriel decided he could put her off a bit, politely of course, keeping things verbal-only.
“You have no idea: you haven’t slept with him,” he smirked and strode off.
. . .
So there he stood with his hero, tucked into a quieter, rarer corner of the waiting room. Staff members were still walking around, of course, within view. The suicide had been the last of Peter’s shift, or ‘tour’ as Peter had tried to school him. Gabriel was here to meet up with him for a bite to eat before taking him home.
“You’re so hot.”
Peter gave him a tired grin, a little sweaty from the exertions despite being in very nice shape. The paramedic uniform fit him perfectly, the dark blue of the soft shirt a lovely color on him, his pants hugged him enough to tease. Yes, the hospital smelled like death, sorrow and enough chemicals to kill an army, but Peter…he smelled good beneath all that. He was gorgeous.
Gabriel knew Peter was close to Hesam, and to Emma. He was close to the whole staff of Mercy, really. That didn’t really bother Gabriel, except that Peter was bonding to someone other than him, but his possessiveness wasn’t really the point. The point was, he didn’t know how much Peter had told anyone about….them. By sheer force of will not to embarrass or out Peter (or summarily get in trouble, no matter what he’d said to that over-sexed woman), Gabriel held off pawing at him like he wanted to.
The slightest hint of needing to lay claim to what belonged to him, his own little slice of heaven motivated him. That and rewarding his boyfriend as well as he could.
“Take me somewhere and fuck me up,” he rasped lustily into Peter’s ear.
He kept his expression mostly neutral except for his eyes, letting them bore into Peter’s to communicate his need. He parted his lips a little. “Come on,” he inched closer; wanting to feel his lover’s warmth, smell his scent from the source. Seeing Peter working hard, being happy, doing good was a surprising aphrodisiac. He wanted to get some of that (wanted to rub it all over himself, actually). Gabriel pressed himself to Peter’s side. It was a real departure from his usually unfavorable attitude towards PDA. Exhibitionism was embarrassing but it got Peter going and this was far from explicit or obvious. Once in place, he shifted his hips to rub his half-mast dick against his lover.
“Please.” He could tell his desires were having the intended effect. Peter licked his lips and looked away, thinking about it. Gabriel slid his hand up and down the other man’s bicep, solicitous and completely seductive. He knew what he wanted and he wanted Peter to be equally desirous. It shouldn’t take much effort or time. Peter was tired and stressed - moldable clay that would harden with words and seemingly innocent touches. He knew the contact, even so slight, would drive his lover crazy - the public display. It was hot to watch Peter’s body temperature rise, his pupils dilate and his dick stiffen.
“Okay,” Peter croaked, and strode off, not towards the doors, but deeper into the hospital.
“Oh, yeah,” Gabriel growled, following at a socially appropriate distance instead of riding Peter like he wanted to be.
. . .
The rough shove against the metal shelving made noise and stung a little. He had Peter right where he wanted him: too horny to think. The feeling was mutual. The shove (and horniness) may have been the result of Gabriel purring naughty things at Peter’s back as they walked down the hall, loud enough for passers-by to overhear…As it was, the back of Peter’s neck was flushed. Peter might be a tad pissed about that…But whatever got him fucked good and hard was fair in love and war.
The door didn’t come with a lock - probably to prevent things like this from happening. Gabriel peeled off his coat with enticing motions, tossing it aside with a flourish. Peter had unzipped his pants, poking his erection out towards him. Fuck. What a hot, dirty boy he was tonight. Gabriel smirked and waited.
“Do it,” was the growled command.
He dropped to his knees in front of Peter, murmuring, “You know what I like,” before his lips were breached, his mouth forced around the waiting shaft. He gagged and spit, moaning about it in symphony with Peter’s groan. Immediately he got to servicing Peter, slurping and sucking him down. The paramedic opened his belt and shucked his pants to his thighs, spreading them and leaning back on instinct - his only handhold was Gabriel’s hair, which the medic used to pump his mouth onto the phallus. The cock in his mouth was wide and slick, rubbing over his tongue and inside his oral cavity, teasing at blocking his throat. The cock in his pants was leaking but his hands were at Peter’s hips before he shoved at Peter’s shirt, digging his hands under it to paw at the warm, firm muscles below. He enjoyed Peter’s sigh before pinching the man’s nipples eagerly.
Peter didn’t stick with the blow job for long. Gabriel didn’t care either way, but he whined when his lover yanked his head back and leaned down to consume him with kissing. Peter’s mouth was open wide, kissing him with ferocity, almost an angry passion and Gabriel was eating it up, literally. The smaller man tasted of warmth and tongue.
When Peter broke away with a wet smack of lips, making to pull his shirt off, he growled with definite heat, “People could have heard you. Dirty mouth.”
The shirt came off and during that break; Gabriel attached his mouth to the hollow of Peter’s throat, tasting the sweat and detergent of his skin with tongue and lips. Peter determined to get their clothes off, opening Gabriel’s pants now whilst Gabriel made that task difficult by feeling up every crevice and muscular bulge. He wanted to inhale Peter through his hands, because that birthday suit was perfection. After that he buried his teeth in Peter’s neck, earning a grunt and a yank to his hair which had the opposite effect intended; his next target was shoulder then chest, tugging on a nipple before giving it much the same treatment he’d given Peter’s cock. From there, he answered around Peter’s panted breathing and obscenely delicious sex sounds, “Oops. So punish me,” he rasped around the nipple. God, Peter was short.
“Is that what you want?” Peter bitched, sounding a little surprised but definitely taken with the situation and the offer.
Gabriel straightened and pressed skin-tight against him, feeling Peter’s dick trapped beside his own between them, hands full of Peter’s fantastic buttocks. “Fuck me. Get inside, give it to me,” he pleaded in a gruff voice. He needed this; he wouldn’t allow Peter to deny him. This had to happen, here and now.
Peter answered him by kissing and sucking at his neck as he opened Gabriel’s shirt buttons. Moaning Gabriel arched himself while holding onto a shoulder and hip to hump at Peter’s firm abdomen and his solid dick, pleasuring them both with each stroke. He could feel his precum being smeared over his lover’s skin, sticking between them. He was breathing heavily, feeling flushed, drowning in hormones and desires. “Peter…yes!” he encouraged when the man shoved his shirt off. The air was colder, attacking his chest and arms; the sensations sharpened with goose bumps. He clung to Peter now to stay warm in the chilly atmosphere of the hospital, even in a storeroom.
Gabriel’s hand left his shoulder to wrap around an equally aroused erection, pumping it just to drive Peter crazy. The smaller man moaned, clutching him with desperate energy - he was so sexy; he had to know that, so sensual and honest. The cock was firm and needy, a pulsing dusky pink in his hand, tugging at the head just this side of being harsh. Peter vocalized like porn star; it was heaven.
Finally, his partner whined and couldn’t take it anymore. Gabriel stumbled when he tried to get his booted foot out of one leg of his pants. Peter helped catch him and assisting in yanking off the pant-leg to he could spread his legs properly. “In, Peter. Now!” He snarled, practically shaking with his arousal.
“Shut up,” was the reply. Odd that Peter was more aware and paranoid about being caught but then again, it was his workplace, not Gabriel’s.
He took hold of Peter’s hair, something the younger man wasn’t fond off - he did it to get the following reaction as he’d roughly kissed his lover. Peter grunted and spanked his ass with a resounding sting, making him jump a little. “Take me; I want you,” Gabriel egged him on.
“Turn around,” Peter turned him away and squeezed his cheeks. Gabriel bent over with legs spread and ass lifted, supporting himself by gripping the shelving, rubbed himself against Peter, offering himself up greedily, willingly. His chest was tight and air was scarce. His spare hand roamed his skin, chest and groin mostly, fingertips catching on barely sweaty flesh as he awaited penetration. He was going to burst one way or other.
“Lube?” Peter asked shortly, fingers already tracing up and down the crease of his ass, the tips teasing at the wrinkled opening.
“Pants,” Gabriel gasped out, hating every second of delay. “Left front pocket.” Yes, he kept lube handy because he was the be-prepared type (and sitting on a lube packet in the back pocket was going to end in embarrassment).
Once more Peter grunted, equally unhappy with the wait, but he leaned over and procured the packet, nipping Gabriel’s thigh on his way, lush hair brushing his hip.
“Don’t even think about teasing m- Ah!” Gabriel’s threat was lost when Peter plunged a pair of slick fingers inside him. Jesus, that was just what he needed. Peter really did know what he liked. “Uuh, yeah!” the taller man whined loudly. Mostly he couldn’t help it but his noises always got Peter off. In and out, not as rough as he could be but hardly gentle, Peter’s digits pushed inside deliciously with a wonderful burn. He gave his throbbing dick a few rough jerks, all the more pleasurable for being unlubricated, the dichotomy a thrill as his ass ached. His cock was desperate for friction but he needed to be pounded for completion and release - having Peter in him was crucial.
“Oh, Peter…” he verbally worshipped, giving up everything in hopes that Peter would take it, keep it and find satisfaction with him. He was ready; breathing choked when Peter twisted his fingers within him and began to glide his fingertips over the so-horny gland inside.
Gabriel groaned, his eyes rolling shut and he slid back on those fingers. It tingled and made his dick lurch, melting his nerves and vision. “I said…don’t…”
Peter was unrepentant, “This is what you get for talking filth about me in front of my co-workers.”
Gabriel made some vague acknowledgements that sounded a lot like pleas, pumping his cock. His lover pressed a third finger inside to his discomfort and dismay, but the pace increased until Peter was fingerfucking him apart. It felt so good, it felt too good. It was just too much. “In me!” he barked and slammed his hand down on the shelving, making a loud rattle.
Peter yanked his hair back and slapped his ass again but complied. Gabriel found himself crying out from behind Peter’s silencing hand as he was filled with a thick erection in one solid stroke. Tears sprung from his eyes with the unadultured pleasure-pain of burning violation. It took his oxygen; he sobbed before he moaned - his rectum stretched and clenching, held open around his partner’s cock. Peter was buried in him, about to fuck his brains out and grind against his prostate with something much better than fingers. He was still tight even after three digits. It was rapture.
Peter petted his slack lips before releasing them, using the curve of groin and thigh - just around his balls - as his handles, sighing out as he sunk in, “Oooh…” It was music to Gabriel’s ears; the hands on him were that much more of a tease. He stroked Peter’s hands on him, feeling the strength there, his own hand drifting over his stiff cock as the thrusting began. Soon Peter was sliding into him. His lover gave it to him, with groans and exhales of dominating pleasure; Peter reamed him out until Gabriel could hear the slaps and smacks of Peter perforating inside, his cheeks being bounced around against Peter’s pelvis. The firm cock was tugging and massaging at the rings of muscle inside him and every drive inwards plunged the knob of Peter’s tip deeper sent a fresh wave of blood to up the ache in the watchmaker’s heavy penis. Gabriel began clenching on instinctive principal; his body trying to both reject and embrace the organ fucking him. His frame trembled from being bent over but Peter only increased the curve in his back until…
An “Uh!” noise was ripped from him as Peter grazed the tender spot inside him. Quickly, Gabriel upped his participation, pushing, grinding back to spear himself on that dirty-juicy-hot spike of Peter-flesh in his ass. The contact was intermittent, imperfect but it only teased his arousal higher. His dick was on fire and he had time to pet his chest, massage his nipples with a few brief passes before he was pumping his inflamed erection. His limbs shook from the position, precarious with balance even though he was braced, leaning against the shelves. “Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! P-eter, oh my God, Peter…” He could distantly hear Peter; his own lust-washed octave was pathetically high-pitched but it only did that when he was drowning in the sex. God, hopefully someone heard. Saint Peter was going to martyr him with dick but it would be such a sweet and rewarding way to go - innocently and sexually fulfilling his lover’s fetish.
Peter was grunting like the beast he was, riding him, clapping that much harder into him with sharp jerks of his pelvis to increase his penetration. It was just what he wanted. Gabriel pictured that angelic face, flushed with sweat, red lower lip being bitten irregularly, lust in those darkened hazel eyes; mouth gaping open to groan as he stared intently at where they were joined…Yep, that was going to do it for him. For both of them.
Keening and moaning in the back of his throat, not holding back, Gabriel’s hand blurred over his sticky cock, abusing the nerves, twisting his grip. Orgasm rolled over him, taking him under, sizzling down his spine until it burned away at his groin and ejaculate spilled over his hand. “OoH!” His vision shattered with purple, red and black with sparkling yellow stars. Breathing was unnecessary after his release; his heart beat fast enough to worry even an immortal - he sagged, gasping like a fish trying to recover. Peter was having none of it (or maybe he was having all of it); the man kept ramming into him, rubbing his insides to overwhelming sensitivity. Gabriel heard himself making completely whorish sounds as pleasure continued to climb. Getting Peter off was seriously hot and dangerous business.
Gabriel wanted more; he wanted it to stop; it was too much, but the moans from behind him were a convincing argument. “Ye-ah…!” he breathed encouragingly, hoping his lover heard him, hoping it sent him over into equal bliss. “Give it to me…” Submissive thoughts were his mantra until Peter gripped his hips, the rhythm going wild and hard, the sounds louder - wet flesh-on-flesh and the noises of a climaxing Petrelli.
“Oh….oh, yeah….Fuck!” the last word was spat out from behind as Gabriel felt the wetness gush inside him, disgusting and delightfully dirty. He took that as a sign of approval, desire, and possession. Strangely Gabriel was the one who felt possessive of Peter after that particular act.
A few moments of aftershock-and-aftermath later, Peter had recovered some. “You get that out of your system now? You gonna be behave in public?” Peter spoke in bursts around his heavy breathing, still sounding lost in the moment. A tug on his hair served to back up Peter’s question.
Gabriel grinned and bumped his butt back against Peter in teasing, “Hmm hmm,” he released a pleased hum. And he would behave…for now.
Footsteps and shadows passed the door but no one looked in the window. Peter reacted all the same, guilty and nervous. Gabriel soothed by petting his lover’s forearm as it slid away from holding him. He was still recovering, feeling deliciously used and spent, moving sluggishly. He stole several slow kisses from his lover, rubbing his shoulders to take the edge off the worry of being found. Peter looked better after that, happy as he relaxed.
As he watched Peter dress, an entrancing act in itself, he wondered at how sexy Peter was; how lucky he was, blessed if he dared use that word. They were two lonely hearts, together finding purpose, peace, joy and fantastic sex. This was definitely some special kind of happy ending.