A Room with a View
Title: A Room with a View
Characters: Sylar (Gabriel Gray), Peter Petrelli
Rating: PG-13 (suggestive content, pseudo-slash, possible non-con aspects depending on how you view it)
Word count: 650
Setting: Inside the Wall, S4
Summary: In the library, Sylar spots a good read with a fitting title.
A/N: What happens in night class videos for educational purposes doesn't stay in night class as evidenced by this fic - this wasn't even the lesbianic video. Men in blue uniforms apparently, what can I say? The song 'A Room with a View' is great, btw, but mostly unrelated. I may continue this if Peter's interested.
Peter bent over grab a book on one of the lower shelves.
Sylar nearly bit through his tongue. Peter already had a reputation for being a shameless, just-out-of-reach tease. (Sylar had the misfortune of not being sure if he enjoyed the teasing or if he resented and hated it - after all, it was inevitable that something happened, right?) Meal times were practically synonymous with erections - the man’s silly lip was both wet-dream and nightmare in one; the idea of a blow job from that mouth…. Activities and work-outs were torture - Peter went around in tight clothes, bulging, sweaty muscles and the most entertaining expressions just shy of ‘fuck me.’ Sylar dealt with more hormone surges then he’d had as a teenager, so horny that self-preservation and thinking flew out the window and he spent most of his time in a pleasurable, unfulfilled haze.
Today, Sylar had a sudden haunting vision of Peter bending over…in his paramedic pants, not the jeans he wore today. Not that today’s current jeans were bad; they weren’t. The paramedic pants looked good on Peter, what he remembered of them - he’d practically been brutalized and raped by Peter in those pants at Mercy (an odd interest, he knew). Navy, well-tailored for something that wasn’t tailored specifically for Peter, those pants were snug where they needed to be, the pockets proving no impediment to the view. Maybe it was like a uniform, the authority or wrongness that came from violating (or making Peter violate) his position as a medic. Sylar didn’t know or care much - he just knew they were doing something for him, or rather, doing something for his dick (because Peter wouldn’t).
Swallowing saliva choked with pheromones, Sylar made his move. He put a hand lightly on Peter’s hip while he placed his heated crotch against that gorgeous backside the man had so kindly presented. He didn’t press too hard, the contact was barely more than touching - it could still be an innocent act. Since Peter’s back was turned, he shut his eyes and exhaled in the few seconds he had before the nurse clobbered him. He reached up slowly for the book he wanted, shifting himself ever-so slightly against Peter’s crease. His face felt hot. This was dangerous and arousing and probably very, very wrong. He could feel his dick stirring as if it knew how much space was between itself and Peter’s ass.
“A Room with a View,” he said to cut off the first round of complaints, stall for time and establish his excuse for practically riding Peter into the bookshelf - if only. Bringing the book down without haste, he leaned over Peter’s back now the man had straightened up. He could feel the heat of his body inches away. The main concern now was his dick poking the nurse - for shame if it happened. Tilted down, Sylar’s face was near the man’s throat and ear. Something Biblical about temptation flew through his mind but didn’t stay. The flesh was warm and it, the man, smelled divine. Licking his lips, he whispered in a low voice - this time bold and sexual, “Has anyone ever told you you have a great…rear view?”
Characters: Sylar (Gabriel Gray), Peter Petrelli
Rating: PG-13 (suggestive content, pseudo-slash, possible non-con aspects depending on how you view it)
Word count: 650
Setting: Inside the Wall, S4
Summary: In the library, Sylar spots a good read with a fitting title.
A/N: What happens in night class videos for educational purposes doesn't stay in night class as evidenced by this fic - this wasn't even the lesbianic video. Men in blue uniforms apparently, what can I say? The song 'A Room with a View' is great, btw, but mostly unrelated. I may continue this if Peter's interested.
Peter bent over grab a book on one of the lower shelves.
Sylar nearly bit through his tongue. Peter already had a reputation for being a shameless, just-out-of-reach tease. (Sylar had the misfortune of not being sure if he enjoyed the teasing or if he resented and hated it - after all, it was inevitable that something happened, right?) Meal times were practically synonymous with erections - the man’s silly lip was both wet-dream and nightmare in one; the idea of a blow job from that mouth…. Activities and work-outs were torture - Peter went around in tight clothes, bulging, sweaty muscles and the most entertaining expressions just shy of ‘fuck me.’ Sylar dealt with more hormone surges then he’d had as a teenager, so horny that self-preservation and thinking flew out the window and he spent most of his time in a pleasurable, unfulfilled haze.
Today, Sylar had a sudden haunting vision of Peter bending over…in his paramedic pants, not the jeans he wore today. Not that today’s current jeans were bad; they weren’t. The paramedic pants looked good on Peter, what he remembered of them - he’d practically been brutalized and raped by Peter in those pants at Mercy (an odd interest, he knew). Navy, well-tailored for something that wasn’t tailored specifically for Peter, those pants were snug where they needed to be, the pockets proving no impediment to the view. Maybe it was like a uniform, the authority or wrongness that came from violating (or making Peter violate) his position as a medic. Sylar didn’t know or care much - he just knew they were doing something for him, or rather, doing something for his dick (because Peter wouldn’t).
Swallowing saliva choked with pheromones, Sylar made his move. He put a hand lightly on Peter’s hip while he placed his heated crotch against that gorgeous backside the man had so kindly presented. He didn’t press too hard, the contact was barely more than touching - it could still be an innocent act. Since Peter’s back was turned, he shut his eyes and exhaled in the few seconds he had before the nurse clobbered him. He reached up slowly for the book he wanted, shifting himself ever-so slightly against Peter’s crease. His face felt hot. This was dangerous and arousing and probably very, very wrong. He could feel his dick stirring as if it knew how much space was between itself and Peter’s ass.
“A Room with a View,” he said to cut off the first round of complaints, stall for time and establish his excuse for practically riding Peter into the bookshelf - if only. Bringing the book down without haste, he leaned over Peter’s back now the man had straightened up. He could feel the heat of his body inches away. The main concern now was his dick poking the nurse - for shame if it happened. Tilted down, Sylar’s face was near the man’s throat and ear. Something Biblical about temptation flew through his mind but didn’t stay. The flesh was warm and it, the man, smelled divine. Licking his lips, he whispered in a low voice - this time bold and sexual, “Has anyone ever told you you have a great…rear view?”