Sexual Tension Part XIX: 'Embers'
Title: Sexual Tension Part XIX: Embers
Rating: NC-17 (slash, sex)
Characters: Sylar (Gabriel Gray)/Peter Petrelli
Word count: 1,300
Setting: Sexual Tension verse, inside the Wall
Summary: A sexy continuation of the Sexual Tension verse. Sylar learns a few things.
A/N: (Not written in the same style as the rest of the series). For game_byrd. Happy Birthday!
Peter plunged into him. Sylar choked on his breath in a good way. This was the first time he’d let Peter top in a face-up position. He’d been far to concerned about everything else under the sun and face-down seemed to be the previous default - it didn’t overly bother him, but the knowledge (generalization?) that a sex partner didn’t want to see his face was difficult. Turns out that wasn’t the case. He should have figured that; honest Peter saying he liked kisses and touching; what better way to do that then facing each other? It seemed almost…obscene, facing Peter for sex, like this. It was such a rush, easily one of the best of his life. He could now see how people could feel themselves to be in love; it was so easy. It was impossible to think Peter didn’t like him or care for him or find him sexually appealing, not when it was like this.
He clung to Peter with a desperate grip; Sylar felt like something would break if Peter pulled away now. For so long, many of his needs had fallen by the wayside. He wasn’t good enough, what he wanted wasn’t possible or it cost too much - mostly Sylar had learned that he asked for more than his due. Without words, Peter somehow figured out what he so badly needed…and then gave it to him. The nurse seemed to enjoy it even, take pride in it, like Sylar was a regular nobody whom Peter liked enough to pleasure. His eyes were misty, but Sylar didn’t care. Instead, he buried a hand in Peter’s hair, the other wrapped around the man’s back.
Peter looked so taken with it. Christ, Sylar felt his insides melt and go squishy at the sight of Peter looking ravenous - at him! The Petrelli was firm and warm and moving between his legs. It was undeniably dirty and completely erotic. No part of them was unconnected - their feet were even touching. Sylar was drowning in contact, in soft human flesh covering hard muscle, especially the one currently reaming out his insides. Peter made that feel fantastic.
The younger man had given him foreplay (what’s more, it was the foreplay he liked, the kind that worked); rutting them together, still clothed, kissing his chest, licking his tongue, thumbing his nipples and caressing his skin, teasing him to the point of frustration until finally he’d pushed in. It wasn’t overly gentle, no; instead it was solid, firm, confident. He’d been nervous and tight. A lot could go wrong facing someone, but blissfully, he didn’t have to worry about those scenarios. Peter began to inch back, watching his face with a shade too much lusty intensity. Sylar didn’t know where to look or what to do (that last was his existing worry); he ended up mostly lying there, wondering what, if anything, he could do to show his interest and continued availability.
The next slick thrust was harder, deeper. It hurt deep in his chest as he tried to sort out his pesky, more humanoid, passionate emotions. A moment for his breath to return and he moaned, his face an unguarded mess right in Peter’s face. The nurse grimaced a short, sexual snarl before shoving himself inside with still more force - the penetrations few, slow and sensual in a forbidden, filthy kind of way. The whole experience was wrong - not the violating kind of wrong, but the naughty kind he wanted to do again repeatedly. Sylar whined, curling his legs around Peter tighter, feeling the walls of his rectum shift, being tugged and massaged internally with another man’s penis. His own organ ached between them and it was maddening sexual torture.
Peter gave him the sweetest kiss on an out-thrust and Sylar’s chest heaved for air, that and it helped to further rub his front against the delicious specimen fucking him. Those abdominals had the dual purpose of looking good and sliding over his dick.
Perforation, then Peter clutched his head, neck and jaw, darting in to first kiss then suck at Sylar’s throat. Sylar called out loudly, letting his head fall back, feeling the man’s breath hot and intermittent. When he drew air again, he moaned and began to writhe with Peter’s motions, pushing himself onto Peter who made a muffled, bestial sound of triumphant satisfaction as he nipped the throat below him. Sylar was lost, his dick throbbed as he struggled to press Peter against his needy, slippery erection or to slide his hand between them to jerk himself off. He wasn’t sure the anal stimulation would push him over and his organ was begging for attention anyway. His body was amped up, tingling, hot, he was ready, “Uuh!” Jesus! His muscles clenched and held Peter inside for a moment before the penis dragged from him - it was a beautiful sensation. He couldn’t tell if it was pleasure or pain.
His ass opened for Peter, sucking on him as he drew back, again and again, slowly increasing the pace. Sylar was awash with sweat, just from the anticipation, the sensations. He held Peter’s head to him as he mouthed the available shoulder in front of him, trying to eat it. Sylar pawed over the medic’s back, side and buttocks. He began to move with Peter’s thrusts, opening to him, letting himself be taken, willingly. His own writhing and humping shifted his muscles anew, actively working them in rhythmic pulses.
Peter was a fantastic lay. Sylar was the one getting this completely sexy nurse off. “Oh, yeah’s” and “Uh uh uh’s” amidst bestial grunting and moaning was poured almost directly into his ear - the man was pure audial sex and it was doing him in. Every breathy vocalization puffing against his throat was approval long denied that rang throughout his body. It felt like joy; it felt like bliss. If he didn’t know any better, it felt like they were making love. It was going to blow the top of his head off like a fucking volcano and he’d never be the same again. It was so smolderingly hot. Sylar was terrified; he didn’t know what to do on the other side.
Tears sprung to his eyes and he whined, feeling flushed and swollen all over. He clutched his…his boyfriend to him, letting him thrust and carry them both away. Every cell in him cried out as his dick burned and his ass began to spasm, trapping Peter within. “OH! Oh! Oh! Ooh….oh!” He burst open, his orgasm intense, prolonged by Peter fulfilling his own needs, hammering into him still. Sylar distantly felt his face contort as the ecstasy joined with pain until Peter spilled, pounding him harder and grinding deep at the end. The empath’s noise of release was erotic, and Sylar was sure his face was, too, but Sylar had his eyes shut, still twitching, warm and aching with Peter’s dick inside him.
When he came to his senses, napping or zoning out in a pleasured haze, he placed a hand against Peter’s side, stroking lightly just to feel him breath, still sweaty and feeling pleasantly used. Sylar sighed and remarked smugly, unashamed and unperturbed to give complimentary praise, not to his boyfriend. “Sex with empaths is definitely the best.”
Peter chuckled and glanced at him, cutting himself off mid-preen when he caught onto the multiple clause. “Wait…empaths?”
Sylar smirked and rolled his eyes. “You’re way better than she could hope to be.” A little self-conscious now, Sylar scooted closer until they were side-to-side on their backs and buried his nose against Peter’s shoulder. “The best I’ve ever had,” he murmured.
Whatever silly worries he had dissipated when Peter turned and softly kissed his hair. Was there ever any doubt Peter was the best?
Rating: NC-17 (slash, sex)
Characters: Sylar (Gabriel Gray)/Peter Petrelli
Word count: 1,300
Setting: Sexual Tension verse, inside the Wall
Summary: A sexy continuation of the Sexual Tension verse. Sylar learns a few things.
A/N: (Not written in the same style as the rest of the series). For game_byrd. Happy Birthday!
Peter plunged into him. Sylar choked on his breath in a good way. This was the first time he’d let Peter top in a face-up position. He’d been far to concerned about everything else under the sun and face-down seemed to be the previous default - it didn’t overly bother him, but the knowledge (generalization?) that a sex partner didn’t want to see his face was difficult. Turns out that wasn’t the case. He should have figured that; honest Peter saying he liked kisses and touching; what better way to do that then facing each other? It seemed almost…obscene, facing Peter for sex, like this. It was such a rush, easily one of the best of his life. He could now see how people could feel themselves to be in love; it was so easy. It was impossible to think Peter didn’t like him or care for him or find him sexually appealing, not when it was like this.
He clung to Peter with a desperate grip; Sylar felt like something would break if Peter pulled away now. For so long, many of his needs had fallen by the wayside. He wasn’t good enough, what he wanted wasn’t possible or it cost too much - mostly Sylar had learned that he asked for more than his due. Without words, Peter somehow figured out what he so badly needed…and then gave it to him. The nurse seemed to enjoy it even, take pride in it, like Sylar was a regular nobody whom Peter liked enough to pleasure. His eyes were misty, but Sylar didn’t care. Instead, he buried a hand in Peter’s hair, the other wrapped around the man’s back.
Peter looked so taken with it. Christ, Sylar felt his insides melt and go squishy at the sight of Peter looking ravenous - at him! The Petrelli was firm and warm and moving between his legs. It was undeniably dirty and completely erotic. No part of them was unconnected - their feet were even touching. Sylar was drowning in contact, in soft human flesh covering hard muscle, especially the one currently reaming out his insides. Peter made that feel fantastic.
The younger man had given him foreplay (what’s more, it was the foreplay he liked, the kind that worked); rutting them together, still clothed, kissing his chest, licking his tongue, thumbing his nipples and caressing his skin, teasing him to the point of frustration until finally he’d pushed in. It wasn’t overly gentle, no; instead it was solid, firm, confident. He’d been nervous and tight. A lot could go wrong facing someone, but blissfully, he didn’t have to worry about those scenarios. Peter began to inch back, watching his face with a shade too much lusty intensity. Sylar didn’t know where to look or what to do (that last was his existing worry); he ended up mostly lying there, wondering what, if anything, he could do to show his interest and continued availability.
The next slick thrust was harder, deeper. It hurt deep in his chest as he tried to sort out his pesky, more humanoid, passionate emotions. A moment for his breath to return and he moaned, his face an unguarded mess right in Peter’s face. The nurse grimaced a short, sexual snarl before shoving himself inside with still more force - the penetrations few, slow and sensual in a forbidden, filthy kind of way. The whole experience was wrong - not the violating kind of wrong, but the naughty kind he wanted to do again repeatedly. Sylar whined, curling his legs around Peter tighter, feeling the walls of his rectum shift, being tugged and massaged internally with another man’s penis. His own organ ached between them and it was maddening sexual torture.
Peter gave him the sweetest kiss on an out-thrust and Sylar’s chest heaved for air, that and it helped to further rub his front against the delicious specimen fucking him. Those abdominals had the dual purpose of looking good and sliding over his dick.
Perforation, then Peter clutched his head, neck and jaw, darting in to first kiss then suck at Sylar’s throat. Sylar called out loudly, letting his head fall back, feeling the man’s breath hot and intermittent. When he drew air again, he moaned and began to writhe with Peter’s motions, pushing himself onto Peter who made a muffled, bestial sound of triumphant satisfaction as he nipped the throat below him. Sylar was lost, his dick throbbed as he struggled to press Peter against his needy, slippery erection or to slide his hand between them to jerk himself off. He wasn’t sure the anal stimulation would push him over and his organ was begging for attention anyway. His body was amped up, tingling, hot, he was ready, “Uuh!” Jesus! His muscles clenched and held Peter inside for a moment before the penis dragged from him - it was a beautiful sensation. He couldn’t tell if it was pleasure or pain.
His ass opened for Peter, sucking on him as he drew back, again and again, slowly increasing the pace. Sylar was awash with sweat, just from the anticipation, the sensations. He held Peter’s head to him as he mouthed the available shoulder in front of him, trying to eat it. Sylar pawed over the medic’s back, side and buttocks. He began to move with Peter’s thrusts, opening to him, letting himself be taken, willingly. His own writhing and humping shifted his muscles anew, actively working them in rhythmic pulses.
Peter was a fantastic lay. Sylar was the one getting this completely sexy nurse off. “Oh, yeah’s” and “Uh uh uh’s” amidst bestial grunting and moaning was poured almost directly into his ear - the man was pure audial sex and it was doing him in. Every breathy vocalization puffing against his throat was approval long denied that rang throughout his body. It felt like joy; it felt like bliss. If he didn’t know any better, it felt like they were making love. It was going to blow the top of his head off like a fucking volcano and he’d never be the same again. It was so smolderingly hot. Sylar was terrified; he didn’t know what to do on the other side.
Tears sprung to his eyes and he whined, feeling flushed and swollen all over. He clutched his…his boyfriend to him, letting him thrust and carry them both away. Every cell in him cried out as his dick burned and his ass began to spasm, trapping Peter within. “OH! Oh! Oh! Ooh….oh!” He burst open, his orgasm intense, prolonged by Peter fulfilling his own needs, hammering into him still. Sylar distantly felt his face contort as the ecstasy joined with pain until Peter spilled, pounding him harder and grinding deep at the end. The empath’s noise of release was erotic, and Sylar was sure his face was, too, but Sylar had his eyes shut, still twitching, warm and aching with Peter’s dick inside him.
When he came to his senses, napping or zoning out in a pleasured haze, he placed a hand against Peter’s side, stroking lightly just to feel him breath, still sweaty and feeling pleasantly used. Sylar sighed and remarked smugly, unashamed and unperturbed to give complimentary praise, not to his boyfriend. “Sex with empaths is definitely the best.”
Peter chuckled and glanced at him, cutting himself off mid-preen when he caught onto the multiple clause. “Wait…empaths?”
Sylar smirked and rolled his eyes. “You’re way better than she could hope to be.” A little self-conscious now, Sylar scooted closer until they were side-to-side on their backs and buried his nose against Peter’s shoulder. “The best I’ve ever had,” he murmured.
Whatever silly worries he had dissipated when Peter turned and softly kissed his hair. Was there ever any doubt Peter was the best?