Equilateral - 2
Chapter One
A/N: Sorry for the delay, this took longer to write than expected. One more part to go - should (hopefully) be up Friday. I think I’m going to submit this for the “best threesome” category for the sylaire_awards, so it needs to be finished by April 6, so that’ll be the last possibly day for an update if chapter 3 takes longer than expected too. I hope this lives up to everyone’s expectations. Enjoy!
Sylar wakes in the morning, momentarily confused as to why there are two warm bodies pressed up against him; ‘two warm female bodies,’ his body informs him, pressed against him in the most interesting ways. Claire’s wrapped around him, and Maya had apparently turned to him at some point in the night. One tiny hand, tanned perfection, rests on his chest right above his heart; a darker-hued arm is slung across his stomach, hand curled around his hip possessively. Both women have a leg wrapped around his, and both are still sound asleep as he tries to find a way of extricating himself from them before either can wake. He can’t let them catch him like this, one too innocent to understand why he’s responding and the other too jaded to believe it’s just a typical morning reaction.
Keeping careful attention to their heart rates and breathing to make sure they’re still asleep, he raises the two of them into the air, just long enough to allow him to slip out of the bed, and then he lowers them. Claire reaches out, her body trying to find the warmth it had just lost, and finds Maya instead. Maya’s grasp on his hip has been transferred to a grasp around Claire’s waist. He almost stops breathing when the women move closer together, Claire resting her head against Maya’s breast, both still sound asleep. If only they could stay like this all the time, he thinks, quiet and getting along perfectly well. If only they could stay just like that…
He wonders if it’s possible for the Company to run out of cold water as he shivers under the shower tap just a minute later, a variety of lascivious thoughts running through his head.
- - - - - - - - - -
The tension’s been building, they’ve been riding a wave that’s yet to crest, but Sylar knows an explosion is imminent. Claire can’t talk to either of them without making subtle digs at Maya; at times, she doesn’t even attempt subtle, just goes straight for the jugular with catty little comments that leave Maya spitting Spanish curses at her. Maya, his saintly murderess, alternates between bouts of pious praying, hours on her knees in the corner of the room with a word of praise on her lips and a glare of hatred in her eyes, and returning Claire’s comments with equal cattiness.
He finds that he spends his time either ignoring them, trying to referee whenever it gets too bad, or being used as a pawn in their little game. In high school, he’s always wondered about the guys that had girls falling all over them, had girls fighting for them. The big men on campus, the ones every one else wanted to be, wanted to imitate. Now, he just wonders if they’d been as tired of the constant arguing and tension, completely exhausted from trying to keep up with two women. If this is what having a harem’s like, he’ll never have that fantasy again, no matter how good the two of them look in the mornings when he gets up, curled around each other, skin pressed against skin in a way that will never happen when they’re awake.
“Shut up!” Sylar yells, clamping his hands over his ears as Maya starts lecturing Claire again. “For God’s sake, shut up!”
“Gabriel! Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain!” Maya whirls around to face him, and he wishes he’d kept his mouth shut when he realizes he’s managed to get her angry at him. Again.
“Because blasphemy’s the worst crime he’ll ever commit.” Claire comments sarcastically. “Oh, wait… never mind.”
“Claire… just don’t.” He just wants a little peace and quiet, why can’t they be silent for just an hour? “Please, can you two not argue? I’ve got a headache. You both know about my hearing, and yet you insist on screaming at each other. I don’t know why you just can’t get along.”
“Oh, you know how it goes, I’m a cheerleader, and she’s a pious hypocrite. I’m sure you’ll understand.” Even though she’s still obviously trying to pick a fight, Claire pitches her voice lower in deference to his wishes. “Here, lay down, I’m going to get you a cold compress for your head, and we’ll be quiet and let you nap.”
Sylar lies down on the bed and Claire goes into the bathroom. Maya sits down on the bed next to him, careful not to touch him. “You do know why we’re fighting.” It’s a casual comment, but she holds herself so tensely. “She wants you, Gabriel. As a protector, as a friend, as a man.”
“Jealous?” He’s not sure what he wants her answer to be.
She doesn’t answer, just scoots further away from him as Claire exits the bathroom with a washcloth in her hand. He lets her drape it over his head, blocking his eyes. The cold helps some, but the fact that neither woman makes a sound helps more. He falls asleep soon after they take seats on the floor, letting him have the bed.
- - - - - - - - - -
He wakes a few hours later, only to find Claire staring at him. Maya’s not around, but the shower’s running in the bathroom, and he assumes she’s in there.
“Better?”
“Yeah.” He sits up, turning so that his back’s against the wall and his feet are dangling off the side of the bed. Claire turns so that she’s got her head against his shoulder and her legs draped across his legs. “You know, you don’t have to do that. Maya’s not here to annoy.”
“Do what?”
“Throw yourself at me. I have to admit, if you’re trying to tick her off, it’s a great tactic - but you don’t have to all the time.”
She just moves closer to him. “I’m not doing it to annoy Maya, although I really don’t see why it should matter to her. I… does it bother you?”
He should say yes, should push her away. “No. Confuses me, but doesn’t bother me.”
“When I was little, my mom was always hugging me or my dad was carrying me. We were all really touchy-feely, even Lyle - until he turned eleven, then he was just too cool for it anymore. I just… I need to be touching someone, have someone touching me. It makes me feel safe. Peter understood that, let me do it with him too, until his wife put an end to that. I haven’t had anyone hold me in a long time; Nathan and the rest of the family were too cold to even think about.”
“And you think I’m not?” He’s amazed that she finds him more accessible than her own family. “You need the comfort, don’t you?” Sylar realizes that he should have asked her earlier how she’d ended up here, why her family had let her be taken. “What happened, Claire?” He lets himself run a hand through her silky brunette tresses. “And why brunette instead of blonde?”
“It was a suggestion, something to make me blend in better with the rest of the Petrellis.” She sniffles. “You’ve been in here so long, you don’t know what it’s like out there. It’s bad, Sylar, really bad. I couldn’t be me, it’s too dangerous, so I had to be a Petrelli cousin, some minor non-important family member. There’s so many laws, so many restrictions, but the Petrelli name and money go a little ways towards making it easier for us. In a way, the same Petrelli name makes it even more dangerous out there. Peter and Nathan kept me and… kept me locked up most of the time, easier to keep us safe so we couldn’t be used against them in some sort of blackmail/kidnapping scheme.”
“You and who else? How did they capture you?” He keeps stroking her hair, seeing how she’s calmer the more he touches her.
“My stepmom, my half-brothers, Elle. That bitch convinced Peter that she’d changed, that she was completely innocent, that she needed him to protect her. She’s the one who suggested the hair dye - I bought her reasoning at the time, but I think she really just wanted to be the only blonde Petrelli. She waited, waited a long time until everyone dropped their guard, and then she killed me one night when Peter and Nathan weren’t home. I woke up here.”
Without thinking about it, he wraps an arm around her, pulling her closer. “Elle captured me too.”
“Yeah, I know. She told me. Real smart move on her part.” Claire laughs, a dark sinister laugh that almost turns him on. “She never was that smart. I’ve been trying to get put in here with you ever since.”
“On purpose?” Another shock, another truth he hadn’t expected.
“Enemy of my enemy and all that jazz. Besides, I figure you’ve got a better chance of getting me out of here than anyone else. I thought that between your mojo and my healing, we might actually get out one day.”
Ignoring her casual disregard of his powers, Sylar leans down low to whisper in her ear, trying to ignore how she shudders as he moves and brushes up against her. “Can you keep a secret?”
Claire moves then, crawling up on top of him until she’s straddling his lap with her mouth against his ear. “Hope you don’t mind; if the guards look in, it will look more like… well, you know… instead of us plotting an escape. Please tell me that’s what the secret is.”
“I’ve got a plan, or at least I did. You and Maya screwed it up, and I’ve been trying to come up with a new plan ever since, so that you two can come with me.” He lets his hands come up around her waist, telling himself that they need to make it look good for the guards. “I swear to you, we will get out of here. All three of us.”
Claire starts to say something, he can tell by the way her mouth opens and her breathing changes, but she changes her mind and kisses him instead.
It’s the first time a woman’s kissed him since Maya, five years ago; Claire’s only the third woman to ever kiss him, really. Sylar pulls away slightly, but she just kisses him again, running her tongue along his lips lightly, grinding down on his lap when she feels how he’s responding. It’s not exactly the explosion that he thought was going to happen earlier, but as he growls into her mouth and rolls them over, pinning her underneath him, it feels like the last few weeks have been leading to this, and he’s not going to slow down until she tells him to.
Or until Maya comes out of the shower and screams at them, like she does right then.
- - - - - - - - - -
Sleep does not come easy that night for Sylar. The fight that had occurred when Maya had caught him making out with Claire had been epic, for lack of a better word, and not a single one of them was talking to any of the others. His denials of evil intention had infuriated Claire, which confuses him since he’d only been trying to say that it was consensual, whatever that spark between them was; now, she’s about to fall out of the bed, trying to put as much distance between her and him as she possibly can. Maya’s stretched out the other direction, her feet near Sylar’s head, also as far away as the bed will allow. She keeps jerking in her sleep, kicking him, although he’s not entirely sure it’s an accident.
If this argument goes on much longer, he’s going to beg the guards to just go ahead and kill him. Surely they’d be kinder to him than the livid women are.
It’s almost time to get up before he ever manages to drift off to sleep, mind full of escape plans and ideas of how to fix this mess.
- - - - - - - - - -
“Oh, isn’t this sweet.” The Ferret smirks as he looks at how they’ve arranged themselves on the bed, and then throws a bucket of water over them, laughing as all three of them jump off the bed. “I’m bored again. I think I’ll take…” he eyes Claire and Maya, and Sylar bumps him up to number one on the kill list when he sees the lust in the guard’s eyes. Bob can wait; this man has to die. “Hmmm, I can’t decide. You pick, Sylar. Which girl stays with you and which girl goes with me?”
Claire whimpers, a distressed sound low in her throat, and Sylar knows he can’t send her; she’s too young, too innocent in spite of being so jaded, and if she goes, he’ll be left alone with Maya for some undeterminable amount of time. He also knows that he can’t not send her; of the three of them, she’s most capable of taking whatever the Ferret dishes out, physically and mentally, and he’s not sure it’s a good idea to be alone with her right now. Maya can’t handle the physical aspect, so very fragile in comparison to Claire and him, and he’s incapable of facing the Company’s psychics and mental manipulators again. Claire has to go with the Ferret, because they can’t.
He can’t send Maya; she wants to be a nun, she’s scared of men, and he knows he’ll be sentencing her to rape again. It’s obvious that the Ferret is looking for that sort of entertainment; he doesn’t have that look in his eyes or that grin on his face when he just wants to beat someone up. If she survives, she won’t still be the same Maya. On the other hand, Sylar can’t not pick her, because he’s sure she’s been raped before but he’s not certain about Claire, and he can’t put her in that position if she hasn’t. Better to send Maya to Ferret’s arms twice and Claire never than to let him have both women.
He can’t choose one or the other; he can only see one solution. Before the women had entered his life again, before he’d gotten used to living with them, he never would have even considered this. It’s on the verge of his tongue to offer himself in their place when the Ferret laughs. “Wait, did you actually think you were going to get a say?” The man slaps his knee and his face turns red as he keeps laughing. “I didn’t realize you were that gullible. Both of you, here now.” His voice turns cold as he orders them.
Both women are trembling, but they obey. The Ferret reaches out to pet Maya’s hair when she gets close enough to him, and she flinches away. Sylar’s sure that she’s about to be hit, but instead, Ferret turns to Claire. She doesn’t move, doesn’t as much as bat an eyelash, when he runs his hand over her cheek and then roughly grabs her jaw. Sylar wants to curse her, curse that fighting spirit and sheer recklessness that he’s normally amused by; she’s just going to make the situation worse by not giving the guard what he wants, by not turning into a sniveling wreck like Maya.
The guard’s eyes are trained on Claire and on the fire in her glare as she returns his stare, but his words are directed at Sylar. “You haven’t had this one yet, have you? I know you were… interrupted yesterday.” He traces a finger around her mouth. “She can suck cock like no whore you’ve ever met before.” His tone’s almost loving.
Sylar wonders if it’d be possible to give someone a stroke via telekinesis; maybe they wouldn’t be able to prove that he’d caused it. Even if they could prove it, the man would still be dead. Not as bloody and painful as he’d originally planned, but the girls would be safe right now.
“Guess by your silence, it’s a no. Don’t worry, I’ll bring her back to you - if you don’t mind sloppy seconds.” The Ferret’s hand trails up her cheek to her hair, which he grabs. He does the same thing to Maya, and yanks hard. “Come on girls, we haven’t got all day.”
As he pulls Maya and Claire out of the room, Sylar closes his eyes and tries to focus his telekinesis. It doesn’t work, as evidenced by Maya’s scream as soon as the door swings shut.
“Gabriel, help us! Please! Gabriel!” The last time she calls his name, it’s a panicked shriek that leaves him wanting to kill every guard there. Claire doesn’t make a sounds, doesn’t call out for him or anyone else, brave in the face of the terrifying.
Maya’s scream is the last thing he hears from either one of them for the next thirty-four hours.
- - - - - - - - - -
When the guards open the door again, it’s to reveal Maya and Claire clinging to each other, Claire hiding her face on Maya’s shoulder and Maya’s face hidden behind a dark mask of bruises. He rushes over to them, only to have Claire whimper and for Maya to hold the younger girl more tightly to her, as if she can protect her against the world.
“Don’t.” Maya whispers. “I need to get her into the shower. Don’t come near her, don’t touch her, don’t talk to her right now. Please.” Claire’s shaking like a leaf, seemingly horrified of him, and he doesn’t argue as Maya leads her into the bathroom, closing and locking the door as she whispers words of comfort.
It’s only when they’re in the shower and a red-faced guard brings in new clothes for both of them that Sylar realizes that both women had been naked.
Claire’s sobs are easy to hear, clearly ringing out over the flowing water of the shower and Maya’s muffled murmurs of “shhh, querida, shhh”, and Sylar wonders just what happened, what’s occurred that’s caused this change in their relationship. There’s other sounds, things he can’t place, but he doesn’t think they matter nearly as much as the sobs.
When Maya unlocks the bathroom door an hour later, Sylar turns his back until the women have a chance to get dressed and get into bed, and then lies down on the floor in front of the door, his way of protecting them while they sleep.
“Sylar?” He’s not expecting to hear Claire talk, much less to him, not after what he assumes she’s been through.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t you want to sleep with me, with us, anymore?”
When she asks, he realizes what it must seem like to her, like he’s rejecting her because of what had happened, which isn’t the case at all. “I didn’t think you’d want me to.”
“Please?” This time, it’s Maya asking, and he wonders again what the hell he’s missed.
He gets up and makes his way to the bed, then looks at the two of them, already curled against each other. “I take it I’m not in the middle tonight, then?”
“Do you mind?” Claire asks as she lets go of Maya to extend a hand to him. “I need to have you both tonight, please. You can have the middle position back tomorrow.” The words are strong, but there are tears streaking down her face.
“Anything you want, babydoll.” It feels right, calling her that, just as right as it had when he’d called Maya “sweetheart” her first day in the cell; seemingly sarcastic, but genuine as well. He lies down, Claire’s back against his chest, his arm thrown over her and Maya; the two are so tightly intertwined that his arm fits over both, his hand resting on Maya’s back. Maya doesn’t argue with him, not that he thought that she would; it’s obvious that everything’s changed, and he’s not exactly where they can go from here.
He’s half asleep, starting to drift into dreamland, when he finds out where they’re going. At first, he thinks that it’s just a fantasy, a particularly realistic dream, but when the bed slightly moves and Claire moans, he realizes that Claire and Maya really are lying beside him, softly kissing. It’s completely unexpected, to him at least, and he’s not sure how he should respond, if he should ignore them, move back to the floor, go to the bathroom for some privacy as he listens in and takes care of a particular urge, or yell at them to stop and to ask what they think they’re doing. While his mind is racing for an answer, his body’s already responded; if he’d been thinking, he would have realized that Claire couldn’t help but be aware of the hardness pushing into her back.
She pushes back against him, and it’s all instinct as he lets go of Maya to wrap a hand around Claire’s hips and pull her back against him, lowering his mouth to her neck to lightly kiss and nibble at her ear lobe and neck as she writhes against him, still kissing Maya.
Maya’s not entirely pleased that Sylar’s trying to exclude her, and bats at his hand ineffectually before trying to gently tug Claire back into her arms. When Sylar’s hold doesn’t break and he continues to grasp onto Claire’s hips, helping her rock again her, Maya gives up and lets her hands slowly inch up until they’re just under the girl’s T-shirt, fingertips tracing tiny circles on the delicate skin underneath her ribcage. When she works up the nerve and lets one shaking hand slide up to cup Claire’s breast, Claire immediately responds, returning the touch as she tries to swallow a cry before it can escape her throat.
As both women get lost in the sensation of touching another woman for the first time, and being touched in return, Sylar wonders how far they’re going to let this go. It’s the height of irresponsibility to be carrying on like this, knowing the guards are watching, knowing what could happen, but he’s not going to be the one to stop the fun. Another moan, this time from Maya, a sound that he remembers all too well from that one night, and he wonders… the hand on Claire’s hip finds it’s way to Maya’s leg, and he lightly trails it up until it’s resting on her outer thigh.
It takes her a minute to do the math and realize that if both of Claire’s hands are on her breast, then the calloused hand on her leg can only be Sylar’s, and Maya immediately pulls away from Claire and Sylar. “No. I will not do this.”
“Please, Maya.” Claire continues to squirm against Sylar, eyes closed as she reaches out for Maya. “You know I need this. Please.”
“Not you, querida. Him.” Maya glares at him. “Gabriel, I do not want you touching me. You know that. Claire needs this, needs us tonight, to erase the memories but don’t touch me like that.”
“Claire?” Sylar asks. “Is this okay with you? Maya, I promise you, I won’t touch you on purpose. Three people on a fairly small bed, I’m not going to be able to avoid touching you completely.”
“Please. God, I need someone to erase his touch. Please, Sylar, please. I can still feel him touching me, in me, on me. Help me.”
He lets go of her as soon as she talks about needing him to forget Ferret, running his hand through his hair. “I don’t think I can do this.” Looking down at her, he apologizes. “I’m so sorry, but if you’re that traumatized, then you can’t exactly consent. No.” He starts to get up, but Claire reaches up and grabs his hand, yanking him back down.
“Oh, no you don’t. You don’t run away from this, from me. I need you, I want you, and I’m going to have you.” The old Claire’s returning, chasing away the crying needy Claire; he likes to think his refusal’s helping piece her back together. “You wanted me earlier. You wanted me when we were kissing yesterday. Admit it.”
“I do want you, but not like this.” He glances over at Maya. “Can you explain better than me?”
“No, because I don’t understand you either. You wanted her until the minute she says you can have her, and then you run away. Fine, run away, we’ll take care of each other.” She glares at him, then kisses away the tears on Claire’s face. “Shh, it’s okay. I’m still here.”
“You know, you never indicated that you were…” Sylar trails off. “I thought you were… you were interested in me, right?”
“Sí, claro. I like men, Gabriel, you should know that. I just don’t like you. This isn’t…” she blushes, “sexual… for me. Claire needs me, she gave up so much for me today, this is the least I can do for her, help her feel safe and loved tonight.” It’s the most revealing thing that either of them has said about what happened, and Sylar realizes he’s not going to get any answers any time soon, if ever.
“And I’m not gay either.” Claire adds. “Strictly a one time thing. Please, Sylar. Don’t make me beg.” She takes the initiative and pulls her T-shirt off, then pulls her pajama bottoms down, kicking them to the lower end of the bed. As soon as she’s disrobed, she pulls Maya down for another kiss, and as Sylar watches their tongues dance, Claire removes Maya’s pajamas too. She only breaks the kiss to roughly rip off the T-shirt, and the women are kissing again as soon as the material had cleared Maya’s head.
If it wasn’t for the fact that he wants to join in, needs to join in, knows that Claire wants him to participate too, he could watch them all night; Claire, so deceptively delicate, pale in the fluorescent light as she’s stretched out underneath Maya, a blush spreading down her throat and onto her breasts, where the pink of the blush emphasizes the darker red of her nipples. He’s never seen Maya be so aggressive, so willing to take the lead before, wondering why she’d played the wilting flower for so long before, always needing him, or Alejandro, or some other man to help her when she always could do it herself.
His hands are on his pants, fingers curled slightly around the waistband, when he pauses to think about the consequences. He takes a deep breath, then with every bit of strength he still has left, he takes his hands off the pants before he can remove them. The women have stopped to watch him, and both frown when they see him stop. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this.”
Claire’s hands are on his pants before he can blink, then inside his pants a second later, small hands wrapped around him in a way that makes him want to scream and sob in pleasure all at once. “You want this, obviously, so why not?”
“We don’t have a condom,” Sylar mumbles, suddenly embarrassed, a feeling that he detests since it’s such a strong reminder of Gabriel. “I don’t think I can… um… pulling out in time may be an issue.”
Maya and Claire look at each other, then start laughing, leaving him mad and embarrassed and highly turned on. It’s not a good combination. They finally see the look on his face and start to explain. “All the female prisoners are given shots and IUDs when we enter here…” Maya starts the sentence.
Claire finishes it “… because the guards don’t want to accidentally have any freaky children. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
That’s all he needs to hear, and he pounces on Claire immediately, twisting so that he’s on the bottom and she’s on the top. It’ll make it easier for Maya to touch her without having to worry about him. Claire leans down, capturing his lips in a heated kiss that leaves him breathless, before trailing down his chest. She stops to swirl her tongue around his belly button, then looks up and grins at him. “Any more last minute panic attacks?” she asks, not giving him a chance to protest again before she continues her tour down, down, all the way down until her hands are resting on his thighs and her mouth is pressing a soft kiss against the tip of his member.
The whimper that escapes from his mouth is the least manly sound he’s ever made, he thinks, as she licks a wet trail along the velvety length and then presses another soft kiss against his balls. He hoarsely shouts when she finally takes him into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks and sliding further down until he’s seated all the way inside her mouth and throat. The Ferret had been right, she’s amazing, and when she starts humming around him, he has to grab onto the sheets and the mattress to keep from arching off the bed. Maya’s been watching him, watching them, fascinated at the response Claire’s getting out of him, and although she’d been adamant about not touching him, she waits until Claire bobs up and down on his cock a time or two, then as soon as Claire deep throats him again, she touches his balls, timidly rolling them in her palm until her touch becomes more sure. She starts to trail a finger further down, lightly tickling his perineum, and it’s all he needs. There’s almost no warning; he comes so fast that he doesn’t have time to warn Claire with anything more than another throaty moan. He almost comes again when she swallows every last drop, then slowly slides off of him until he’s completely out of her mouth; then she licks her lips, searching for every last bit. It’s by far the sexiest thing he’s ever seen, until the next minute when Maya makes her move.
“Gabriel, sit up a bit.” She directs him, then helps arrange him how she wants him, back against the wall, legs spread slightly. She then directs Claire to sit against him, leaning back against him, legs draped over his. “Claire, may I?” she asks in between tiny soft kisses.
“Do whatever you want.” Claire lets her head fall back, fitting into the space between Sylar’s neck and shoulder as he massages her shoulders, trying to get rid of any lingering stress she’d been carrying there.
“Do you mind, spread your legs a bit - no, I mean - here.” Maya grabs his legs, something he’s not expecting and rearranges them so that his position’s holding Claire open to Maya’s view, his knees spreading her thighs. Claire moans as soon as they move into this new position, it’s so exposed yet she feels safe since Sylar’s holding her. He gets the idea, a bit slower than the two women had, and shifts slightly so that he can rub up against Claire’s back at the same time. He cups one of her breasts in his hand, and uses his other hand to tilt her head so that he can kiss her. He knows the second that Maya touches her, since Claire arches against him, moaning in his mouth. Opening his eyes, he glances down to see Maya’s tongue darting out, tasting and teasing Claire, and he wonders what it’d be like to do that. Maya catches his questioning glance, and pulls back.
“This is a one-time-only offer.” She waits until he nods, then sitting up and pressing Claire in between them, kisses him deeply, letting him get a good taste of essence of Claire. Knowing that their fun time would be over if he touches Maya, Claire quickly grabs his hands and pins them on the bed underneath her own, as Maya leans into the kiss even more, opening her mouth and letting him plunder her. He finds it odd, to be the one who’s restrained but yet at the same time being the one who’s the most aggressive. He can’t help but think that Maya doesn’t hate him as badly as she claims; no one who truly hated him would be kissing him like this. She finally breaks the kiss, leaning back and panting, before exclaiming. “That was a mistake!”
“Sure it was, Mai. Sure it was.” Claire chuckles. “It was really hot too. So… are you going to finish what you started?”
“No.” Sylar interrupts them. “If that keeps up, you’re going to make me come just from watching, and I’m not as young as I used to be. If you want me, want me like that, then…”
“Gotcha.” Claire stops him before he can finish his train of thought. “Maya, do you mind?”
“No. Go ahead.” She gets up off the bed, and with a sigh and a longing glance at the two of them, starts to walk into the bathroom.
“Wait!” Sylar calls out, not understanding what’s going on. “Where are you going?”
“I can’t watch this. I can’t watch you take another woman, Gabriel. I’m sorry.” She looks back at them before slowly shutting the bathroom door. He winces when he hears the lock turn.
“Go after her.” Claire tells him, sliding away from him and trying to pull a sheet over herself, embarrassed of her actions now. “She’s still in love with you. You can make things right with her, it’ll just take time. I understand; it’s fine.”
He looks at her, then at the door, then back down at Claire. Making up his mind, he rolls onto his elbows, looming over her. “I’m exactly where I want to be.”
“You’re going to ruin your chances with Maya,” she warns.
“I ruined those half a decade ago.” He lowers himself slightly, letting his body come in contact with hers. “She’s where she wants to be, and we’re here. Now, shut up and kiss me.”
She does, at the same time as she loosely wraps a leg around his waist, letting her foot rest in the small of his back. It’s not slow, it’s not exactly loving, it’s not what he expected, but as he finally slams into her, he knows it’s what they both need. Her breath catches as she stretches around him, and her head falls back, dark hair spreading around her on the bed. Pulling back, it kills him to slide back out, but the way her mouth forms a tiny perfect round and her eyes flutter close when he re-enters her is more than worth it. She’s so tight, so wet, so ready for him, that he just wants to lose himself in her, until it’s no longer Sylar and Claire, but rather Sylarclaire in a violent collision of bodies and skin, but he can’t. There’s no way the Ferret had been slow and tender with her, and so Sylar forces himself to slow down, going so slow that he’s not sure if he’s moving at all.
It’s not what Claire wants apparently, because she brings both legs up around his torso and rakes her fingernails down his back until he bleeds for her, making demands in his ear. “Fuck me, Sylar. I don’t want love; I want sex, a raw gritty fast fuck. Take me, break me, until I can’t remember that any other man exists. Make me yours.”
No, the relationship between them isn’t the same that it had been, and the awkwardness and the arguing are pushed away in a brutal explosion, but it’s not the explosion he’d been expecting. As Claire clenches down on him, swept away in an intense orgasm, he comes so hard his eyes roll back and he almost passes out from not breathing. An explosion has happened, but it’s one of feelings and emotions and sex, instead of the massive fight he’d been expecting.
He rolls over, panting, lying beside Claire, their hands intertwined, and falls asleep. He doesn’t move, doesn’t wake when she slides a pillow under his head and pulls the sheets and blankets up over them. Neither of them wakes when Maya sneaks out of the bathroom and joins them, curling up against Sylar, hand just millimeters away from touching him, too scared to reach out and grasp what she really wants.
Chapter Three
A/N: Sorry for the delay, this took longer to write than expected. One more part to go - should (hopefully) be up Friday. I think I’m going to submit this for the “best threesome” category for the sylaire_awards, so it needs to be finished by April 6, so that’ll be the last possibly day for an update if chapter 3 takes longer than expected too. I hope this lives up to everyone’s expectations. Enjoy!
Sylar wakes in the morning, momentarily confused as to why there are two warm bodies pressed up against him; ‘two warm female bodies,’ his body informs him, pressed against him in the most interesting ways. Claire’s wrapped around him, and Maya had apparently turned to him at some point in the night. One tiny hand, tanned perfection, rests on his chest right above his heart; a darker-hued arm is slung across his stomach, hand curled around his hip possessively. Both women have a leg wrapped around his, and both are still sound asleep as he tries to find a way of extricating himself from them before either can wake. He can’t let them catch him like this, one too innocent to understand why he’s responding and the other too jaded to believe it’s just a typical morning reaction.
Keeping careful attention to their heart rates and breathing to make sure they’re still asleep, he raises the two of them into the air, just long enough to allow him to slip out of the bed, and then he lowers them. Claire reaches out, her body trying to find the warmth it had just lost, and finds Maya instead. Maya’s grasp on his hip has been transferred to a grasp around Claire’s waist. He almost stops breathing when the women move closer together, Claire resting her head against Maya’s breast, both still sound asleep. If only they could stay like this all the time, he thinks, quiet and getting along perfectly well. If only they could stay just like that…
He wonders if it’s possible for the Company to run out of cold water as he shivers under the shower tap just a minute later, a variety of lascivious thoughts running through his head.
- - - - - - - - - -
The tension’s been building, they’ve been riding a wave that’s yet to crest, but Sylar knows an explosion is imminent. Claire can’t talk to either of them without making subtle digs at Maya; at times, she doesn’t even attempt subtle, just goes straight for the jugular with catty little comments that leave Maya spitting Spanish curses at her. Maya, his saintly murderess, alternates between bouts of pious praying, hours on her knees in the corner of the room with a word of praise on her lips and a glare of hatred in her eyes, and returning Claire’s comments with equal cattiness.
He finds that he spends his time either ignoring them, trying to referee whenever it gets too bad, or being used as a pawn in their little game. In high school, he’s always wondered about the guys that had girls falling all over them, had girls fighting for them. The big men on campus, the ones every one else wanted to be, wanted to imitate. Now, he just wonders if they’d been as tired of the constant arguing and tension, completely exhausted from trying to keep up with two women. If this is what having a harem’s like, he’ll never have that fantasy again, no matter how good the two of them look in the mornings when he gets up, curled around each other, skin pressed against skin in a way that will never happen when they’re awake.
“Shut up!” Sylar yells, clamping his hands over his ears as Maya starts lecturing Claire again. “For God’s sake, shut up!”
“Gabriel! Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain!” Maya whirls around to face him, and he wishes he’d kept his mouth shut when he realizes he’s managed to get her angry at him. Again.
“Because blasphemy’s the worst crime he’ll ever commit.” Claire comments sarcastically. “Oh, wait… never mind.”
“Claire… just don’t.” He just wants a little peace and quiet, why can’t they be silent for just an hour? “Please, can you two not argue? I’ve got a headache. You both know about my hearing, and yet you insist on screaming at each other. I don’t know why you just can’t get along.”
“Oh, you know how it goes, I’m a cheerleader, and she’s a pious hypocrite. I’m sure you’ll understand.” Even though she’s still obviously trying to pick a fight, Claire pitches her voice lower in deference to his wishes. “Here, lay down, I’m going to get you a cold compress for your head, and we’ll be quiet and let you nap.”
Sylar lies down on the bed and Claire goes into the bathroom. Maya sits down on the bed next to him, careful not to touch him. “You do know why we’re fighting.” It’s a casual comment, but she holds herself so tensely. “She wants you, Gabriel. As a protector, as a friend, as a man.”
“Jealous?” He’s not sure what he wants her answer to be.
She doesn’t answer, just scoots further away from him as Claire exits the bathroom with a washcloth in her hand. He lets her drape it over his head, blocking his eyes. The cold helps some, but the fact that neither woman makes a sound helps more. He falls asleep soon after they take seats on the floor, letting him have the bed.
- - - - - - - - - -
He wakes a few hours later, only to find Claire staring at him. Maya’s not around, but the shower’s running in the bathroom, and he assumes she’s in there.
“Better?”
“Yeah.” He sits up, turning so that his back’s against the wall and his feet are dangling off the side of the bed. Claire turns so that she’s got her head against his shoulder and her legs draped across his legs. “You know, you don’t have to do that. Maya’s not here to annoy.”
“Do what?”
“Throw yourself at me. I have to admit, if you’re trying to tick her off, it’s a great tactic - but you don’t have to all the time.”
She just moves closer to him. “I’m not doing it to annoy Maya, although I really don’t see why it should matter to her. I… does it bother you?”
He should say yes, should push her away. “No. Confuses me, but doesn’t bother me.”
“When I was little, my mom was always hugging me or my dad was carrying me. We were all really touchy-feely, even Lyle - until he turned eleven, then he was just too cool for it anymore. I just… I need to be touching someone, have someone touching me. It makes me feel safe. Peter understood that, let me do it with him too, until his wife put an end to that. I haven’t had anyone hold me in a long time; Nathan and the rest of the family were too cold to even think about.”
“And you think I’m not?” He’s amazed that she finds him more accessible than her own family. “You need the comfort, don’t you?” Sylar realizes that he should have asked her earlier how she’d ended up here, why her family had let her be taken. “What happened, Claire?” He lets himself run a hand through her silky brunette tresses. “And why brunette instead of blonde?”
“It was a suggestion, something to make me blend in better with the rest of the Petrellis.” She sniffles. “You’ve been in here so long, you don’t know what it’s like out there. It’s bad, Sylar, really bad. I couldn’t be me, it’s too dangerous, so I had to be a Petrelli cousin, some minor non-important family member. There’s so many laws, so many restrictions, but the Petrelli name and money go a little ways towards making it easier for us. In a way, the same Petrelli name makes it even more dangerous out there. Peter and Nathan kept me and… kept me locked up most of the time, easier to keep us safe so we couldn’t be used against them in some sort of blackmail/kidnapping scheme.”
“You and who else? How did they capture you?” He keeps stroking her hair, seeing how she’s calmer the more he touches her.
“My stepmom, my half-brothers, Elle. That bitch convinced Peter that she’d changed, that she was completely innocent, that she needed him to protect her. She’s the one who suggested the hair dye - I bought her reasoning at the time, but I think she really just wanted to be the only blonde Petrelli. She waited, waited a long time until everyone dropped their guard, and then she killed me one night when Peter and Nathan weren’t home. I woke up here.”
Without thinking about it, he wraps an arm around her, pulling her closer. “Elle captured me too.”
“Yeah, I know. She told me. Real smart move on her part.” Claire laughs, a dark sinister laugh that almost turns him on. “She never was that smart. I’ve been trying to get put in here with you ever since.”
“On purpose?” Another shock, another truth he hadn’t expected.
“Enemy of my enemy and all that jazz. Besides, I figure you’ve got a better chance of getting me out of here than anyone else. I thought that between your mojo and my healing, we might actually get out one day.”
Ignoring her casual disregard of his powers, Sylar leans down low to whisper in her ear, trying to ignore how she shudders as he moves and brushes up against her. “Can you keep a secret?”
Claire moves then, crawling up on top of him until she’s straddling his lap with her mouth against his ear. “Hope you don’t mind; if the guards look in, it will look more like… well, you know… instead of us plotting an escape. Please tell me that’s what the secret is.”
“I’ve got a plan, or at least I did. You and Maya screwed it up, and I’ve been trying to come up with a new plan ever since, so that you two can come with me.” He lets his hands come up around her waist, telling himself that they need to make it look good for the guards. “I swear to you, we will get out of here. All three of us.”
Claire starts to say something, he can tell by the way her mouth opens and her breathing changes, but she changes her mind and kisses him instead.
It’s the first time a woman’s kissed him since Maya, five years ago; Claire’s only the third woman to ever kiss him, really. Sylar pulls away slightly, but she just kisses him again, running her tongue along his lips lightly, grinding down on his lap when she feels how he’s responding. It’s not exactly the explosion that he thought was going to happen earlier, but as he growls into her mouth and rolls them over, pinning her underneath him, it feels like the last few weeks have been leading to this, and he’s not going to slow down until she tells him to.
Or until Maya comes out of the shower and screams at them, like she does right then.
- - - - - - - - - -
Sleep does not come easy that night for Sylar. The fight that had occurred when Maya had caught him making out with Claire had been epic, for lack of a better word, and not a single one of them was talking to any of the others. His denials of evil intention had infuriated Claire, which confuses him since he’d only been trying to say that it was consensual, whatever that spark between them was; now, she’s about to fall out of the bed, trying to put as much distance between her and him as she possibly can. Maya’s stretched out the other direction, her feet near Sylar’s head, also as far away as the bed will allow. She keeps jerking in her sleep, kicking him, although he’s not entirely sure it’s an accident.
If this argument goes on much longer, he’s going to beg the guards to just go ahead and kill him. Surely they’d be kinder to him than the livid women are.
It’s almost time to get up before he ever manages to drift off to sleep, mind full of escape plans and ideas of how to fix this mess.
- - - - - - - - - -
“Oh, isn’t this sweet.” The Ferret smirks as he looks at how they’ve arranged themselves on the bed, and then throws a bucket of water over them, laughing as all three of them jump off the bed. “I’m bored again. I think I’ll take…” he eyes Claire and Maya, and Sylar bumps him up to number one on the kill list when he sees the lust in the guard’s eyes. Bob can wait; this man has to die. “Hmmm, I can’t decide. You pick, Sylar. Which girl stays with you and which girl goes with me?”
Claire whimpers, a distressed sound low in her throat, and Sylar knows he can’t send her; she’s too young, too innocent in spite of being so jaded, and if she goes, he’ll be left alone with Maya for some undeterminable amount of time. He also knows that he can’t not send her; of the three of them, she’s most capable of taking whatever the Ferret dishes out, physically and mentally, and he’s not sure it’s a good idea to be alone with her right now. Maya can’t handle the physical aspect, so very fragile in comparison to Claire and him, and he’s incapable of facing the Company’s psychics and mental manipulators again. Claire has to go with the Ferret, because they can’t.
He can’t send Maya; she wants to be a nun, she’s scared of men, and he knows he’ll be sentencing her to rape again. It’s obvious that the Ferret is looking for that sort of entertainment; he doesn’t have that look in his eyes or that grin on his face when he just wants to beat someone up. If she survives, she won’t still be the same Maya. On the other hand, Sylar can’t not pick her, because he’s sure she’s been raped before but he’s not certain about Claire, and he can’t put her in that position if she hasn’t. Better to send Maya to Ferret’s arms twice and Claire never than to let him have both women.
He can’t choose one or the other; he can only see one solution. Before the women had entered his life again, before he’d gotten used to living with them, he never would have even considered this. It’s on the verge of his tongue to offer himself in their place when the Ferret laughs. “Wait, did you actually think you were going to get a say?” The man slaps his knee and his face turns red as he keeps laughing. “I didn’t realize you were that gullible. Both of you, here now.” His voice turns cold as he orders them.
Both women are trembling, but they obey. The Ferret reaches out to pet Maya’s hair when she gets close enough to him, and she flinches away. Sylar’s sure that she’s about to be hit, but instead, Ferret turns to Claire. She doesn’t move, doesn’t as much as bat an eyelash, when he runs his hand over her cheek and then roughly grabs her jaw. Sylar wants to curse her, curse that fighting spirit and sheer recklessness that he’s normally amused by; she’s just going to make the situation worse by not giving the guard what he wants, by not turning into a sniveling wreck like Maya.
The guard’s eyes are trained on Claire and on the fire in her glare as she returns his stare, but his words are directed at Sylar. “You haven’t had this one yet, have you? I know you were… interrupted yesterday.” He traces a finger around her mouth. “She can suck cock like no whore you’ve ever met before.” His tone’s almost loving.
Sylar wonders if it’d be possible to give someone a stroke via telekinesis; maybe they wouldn’t be able to prove that he’d caused it. Even if they could prove it, the man would still be dead. Not as bloody and painful as he’d originally planned, but the girls would be safe right now.
“Guess by your silence, it’s a no. Don’t worry, I’ll bring her back to you - if you don’t mind sloppy seconds.” The Ferret’s hand trails up her cheek to her hair, which he grabs. He does the same thing to Maya, and yanks hard. “Come on girls, we haven’t got all day.”
As he pulls Maya and Claire out of the room, Sylar closes his eyes and tries to focus his telekinesis. It doesn’t work, as evidenced by Maya’s scream as soon as the door swings shut.
“Gabriel, help us! Please! Gabriel!” The last time she calls his name, it’s a panicked shriek that leaves him wanting to kill every guard there. Claire doesn’t make a sounds, doesn’t call out for him or anyone else, brave in the face of the terrifying.
Maya’s scream is the last thing he hears from either one of them for the next thirty-four hours.
- - - - - - - - - -
When the guards open the door again, it’s to reveal Maya and Claire clinging to each other, Claire hiding her face on Maya’s shoulder and Maya’s face hidden behind a dark mask of bruises. He rushes over to them, only to have Claire whimper and for Maya to hold the younger girl more tightly to her, as if she can protect her against the world.
“Don’t.” Maya whispers. “I need to get her into the shower. Don’t come near her, don’t touch her, don’t talk to her right now. Please.” Claire’s shaking like a leaf, seemingly horrified of him, and he doesn’t argue as Maya leads her into the bathroom, closing and locking the door as she whispers words of comfort.
It’s only when they’re in the shower and a red-faced guard brings in new clothes for both of them that Sylar realizes that both women had been naked.
Claire’s sobs are easy to hear, clearly ringing out over the flowing water of the shower and Maya’s muffled murmurs of “shhh, querida, shhh”, and Sylar wonders just what happened, what’s occurred that’s caused this change in their relationship. There’s other sounds, things he can’t place, but he doesn’t think they matter nearly as much as the sobs.
When Maya unlocks the bathroom door an hour later, Sylar turns his back until the women have a chance to get dressed and get into bed, and then lies down on the floor in front of the door, his way of protecting them while they sleep.
“Sylar?” He’s not expecting to hear Claire talk, much less to him, not after what he assumes she’s been through.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t you want to sleep with me, with us, anymore?”
When she asks, he realizes what it must seem like to her, like he’s rejecting her because of what had happened, which isn’t the case at all. “I didn’t think you’d want me to.”
“Please?” This time, it’s Maya asking, and he wonders again what the hell he’s missed.
He gets up and makes his way to the bed, then looks at the two of them, already curled against each other. “I take it I’m not in the middle tonight, then?”
“Do you mind?” Claire asks as she lets go of Maya to extend a hand to him. “I need to have you both tonight, please. You can have the middle position back tomorrow.” The words are strong, but there are tears streaking down her face.
“Anything you want, babydoll.” It feels right, calling her that, just as right as it had when he’d called Maya “sweetheart” her first day in the cell; seemingly sarcastic, but genuine as well. He lies down, Claire’s back against his chest, his arm thrown over her and Maya; the two are so tightly intertwined that his arm fits over both, his hand resting on Maya’s back. Maya doesn’t argue with him, not that he thought that she would; it’s obvious that everything’s changed, and he’s not exactly where they can go from here.
He’s half asleep, starting to drift into dreamland, when he finds out where they’re going. At first, he thinks that it’s just a fantasy, a particularly realistic dream, but when the bed slightly moves and Claire moans, he realizes that Claire and Maya really are lying beside him, softly kissing. It’s completely unexpected, to him at least, and he’s not sure how he should respond, if he should ignore them, move back to the floor, go to the bathroom for some privacy as he listens in and takes care of a particular urge, or yell at them to stop and to ask what they think they’re doing. While his mind is racing for an answer, his body’s already responded; if he’d been thinking, he would have realized that Claire couldn’t help but be aware of the hardness pushing into her back.
She pushes back against him, and it’s all instinct as he lets go of Maya to wrap a hand around Claire’s hips and pull her back against him, lowering his mouth to her neck to lightly kiss and nibble at her ear lobe and neck as she writhes against him, still kissing Maya.
Maya’s not entirely pleased that Sylar’s trying to exclude her, and bats at his hand ineffectually before trying to gently tug Claire back into her arms. When Sylar’s hold doesn’t break and he continues to grasp onto Claire’s hips, helping her rock again her, Maya gives up and lets her hands slowly inch up until they’re just under the girl’s T-shirt, fingertips tracing tiny circles on the delicate skin underneath her ribcage. When she works up the nerve and lets one shaking hand slide up to cup Claire’s breast, Claire immediately responds, returning the touch as she tries to swallow a cry before it can escape her throat.
As both women get lost in the sensation of touching another woman for the first time, and being touched in return, Sylar wonders how far they’re going to let this go. It’s the height of irresponsibility to be carrying on like this, knowing the guards are watching, knowing what could happen, but he’s not going to be the one to stop the fun. Another moan, this time from Maya, a sound that he remembers all too well from that one night, and he wonders… the hand on Claire’s hip finds it’s way to Maya’s leg, and he lightly trails it up until it’s resting on her outer thigh.
It takes her a minute to do the math and realize that if both of Claire’s hands are on her breast, then the calloused hand on her leg can only be Sylar’s, and Maya immediately pulls away from Claire and Sylar. “No. I will not do this.”
“Please, Maya.” Claire continues to squirm against Sylar, eyes closed as she reaches out for Maya. “You know I need this. Please.”
“Not you, querida. Him.” Maya glares at him. “Gabriel, I do not want you touching me. You know that. Claire needs this, needs us tonight, to erase the memories but don’t touch me like that.”
“Claire?” Sylar asks. “Is this okay with you? Maya, I promise you, I won’t touch you on purpose. Three people on a fairly small bed, I’m not going to be able to avoid touching you completely.”
“Please. God, I need someone to erase his touch. Please, Sylar, please. I can still feel him touching me, in me, on me. Help me.”
He lets go of her as soon as she talks about needing him to forget Ferret, running his hand through his hair. “I don’t think I can do this.” Looking down at her, he apologizes. “I’m so sorry, but if you’re that traumatized, then you can’t exactly consent. No.” He starts to get up, but Claire reaches up and grabs his hand, yanking him back down.
“Oh, no you don’t. You don’t run away from this, from me. I need you, I want you, and I’m going to have you.” The old Claire’s returning, chasing away the crying needy Claire; he likes to think his refusal’s helping piece her back together. “You wanted me earlier. You wanted me when we were kissing yesterday. Admit it.”
“I do want you, but not like this.” He glances over at Maya. “Can you explain better than me?”
“No, because I don’t understand you either. You wanted her until the minute she says you can have her, and then you run away. Fine, run away, we’ll take care of each other.” She glares at him, then kisses away the tears on Claire’s face. “Shh, it’s okay. I’m still here.”
“You know, you never indicated that you were…” Sylar trails off. “I thought you were… you were interested in me, right?”
“Sí, claro. I like men, Gabriel, you should know that. I just don’t like you. This isn’t…” she blushes, “sexual… for me. Claire needs me, she gave up so much for me today, this is the least I can do for her, help her feel safe and loved tonight.” It’s the most revealing thing that either of them has said about what happened, and Sylar realizes he’s not going to get any answers any time soon, if ever.
“And I’m not gay either.” Claire adds. “Strictly a one time thing. Please, Sylar. Don’t make me beg.” She takes the initiative and pulls her T-shirt off, then pulls her pajama bottoms down, kicking them to the lower end of the bed. As soon as she’s disrobed, she pulls Maya down for another kiss, and as Sylar watches their tongues dance, Claire removes Maya’s pajamas too. She only breaks the kiss to roughly rip off the T-shirt, and the women are kissing again as soon as the material had cleared Maya’s head.
If it wasn’t for the fact that he wants to join in, needs to join in, knows that Claire wants him to participate too, he could watch them all night; Claire, so deceptively delicate, pale in the fluorescent light as she’s stretched out underneath Maya, a blush spreading down her throat and onto her breasts, where the pink of the blush emphasizes the darker red of her nipples. He’s never seen Maya be so aggressive, so willing to take the lead before, wondering why she’d played the wilting flower for so long before, always needing him, or Alejandro, or some other man to help her when she always could do it herself.
His hands are on his pants, fingers curled slightly around the waistband, when he pauses to think about the consequences. He takes a deep breath, then with every bit of strength he still has left, he takes his hands off the pants before he can remove them. The women have stopped to watch him, and both frown when they see him stop. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this.”
Claire’s hands are on his pants before he can blink, then inside his pants a second later, small hands wrapped around him in a way that makes him want to scream and sob in pleasure all at once. “You want this, obviously, so why not?”
“We don’t have a condom,” Sylar mumbles, suddenly embarrassed, a feeling that he detests since it’s such a strong reminder of Gabriel. “I don’t think I can… um… pulling out in time may be an issue.”
Maya and Claire look at each other, then start laughing, leaving him mad and embarrassed and highly turned on. It’s not a good combination. They finally see the look on his face and start to explain. “All the female prisoners are given shots and IUDs when we enter here…” Maya starts the sentence.
Claire finishes it “… because the guards don’t want to accidentally have any freaky children. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
That’s all he needs to hear, and he pounces on Claire immediately, twisting so that he’s on the bottom and she’s on the top. It’ll make it easier for Maya to touch her without having to worry about him. Claire leans down, capturing his lips in a heated kiss that leaves him breathless, before trailing down his chest. She stops to swirl her tongue around his belly button, then looks up and grins at him. “Any more last minute panic attacks?” she asks, not giving him a chance to protest again before she continues her tour down, down, all the way down until her hands are resting on his thighs and her mouth is pressing a soft kiss against the tip of his member.
The whimper that escapes from his mouth is the least manly sound he’s ever made, he thinks, as she licks a wet trail along the velvety length and then presses another soft kiss against his balls. He hoarsely shouts when she finally takes him into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks and sliding further down until he’s seated all the way inside her mouth and throat. The Ferret had been right, she’s amazing, and when she starts humming around him, he has to grab onto the sheets and the mattress to keep from arching off the bed. Maya’s been watching him, watching them, fascinated at the response Claire’s getting out of him, and although she’d been adamant about not touching him, she waits until Claire bobs up and down on his cock a time or two, then as soon as Claire deep throats him again, she touches his balls, timidly rolling them in her palm until her touch becomes more sure. She starts to trail a finger further down, lightly tickling his perineum, and it’s all he needs. There’s almost no warning; he comes so fast that he doesn’t have time to warn Claire with anything more than another throaty moan. He almost comes again when she swallows every last drop, then slowly slides off of him until he’s completely out of her mouth; then she licks her lips, searching for every last bit. It’s by far the sexiest thing he’s ever seen, until the next minute when Maya makes her move.
“Gabriel, sit up a bit.” She directs him, then helps arrange him how she wants him, back against the wall, legs spread slightly. She then directs Claire to sit against him, leaning back against him, legs draped over his. “Claire, may I?” she asks in between tiny soft kisses.
“Do whatever you want.” Claire lets her head fall back, fitting into the space between Sylar’s neck and shoulder as he massages her shoulders, trying to get rid of any lingering stress she’d been carrying there.
“Do you mind, spread your legs a bit - no, I mean - here.” Maya grabs his legs, something he’s not expecting and rearranges them so that his position’s holding Claire open to Maya’s view, his knees spreading her thighs. Claire moans as soon as they move into this new position, it’s so exposed yet she feels safe since Sylar’s holding her. He gets the idea, a bit slower than the two women had, and shifts slightly so that he can rub up against Claire’s back at the same time. He cups one of her breasts in his hand, and uses his other hand to tilt her head so that he can kiss her. He knows the second that Maya touches her, since Claire arches against him, moaning in his mouth. Opening his eyes, he glances down to see Maya’s tongue darting out, tasting and teasing Claire, and he wonders what it’d be like to do that. Maya catches his questioning glance, and pulls back.
“This is a one-time-only offer.” She waits until he nods, then sitting up and pressing Claire in between them, kisses him deeply, letting him get a good taste of essence of Claire. Knowing that their fun time would be over if he touches Maya, Claire quickly grabs his hands and pins them on the bed underneath her own, as Maya leans into the kiss even more, opening her mouth and letting him plunder her. He finds it odd, to be the one who’s restrained but yet at the same time being the one who’s the most aggressive. He can’t help but think that Maya doesn’t hate him as badly as she claims; no one who truly hated him would be kissing him like this. She finally breaks the kiss, leaning back and panting, before exclaiming. “That was a mistake!”
“Sure it was, Mai. Sure it was.” Claire chuckles. “It was really hot too. So… are you going to finish what you started?”
“No.” Sylar interrupts them. “If that keeps up, you’re going to make me come just from watching, and I’m not as young as I used to be. If you want me, want me like that, then…”
“Gotcha.” Claire stops him before he can finish his train of thought. “Maya, do you mind?”
“No. Go ahead.” She gets up off the bed, and with a sigh and a longing glance at the two of them, starts to walk into the bathroom.
“Wait!” Sylar calls out, not understanding what’s going on. “Where are you going?”
“I can’t watch this. I can’t watch you take another woman, Gabriel. I’m sorry.” She looks back at them before slowly shutting the bathroom door. He winces when he hears the lock turn.
“Go after her.” Claire tells him, sliding away from him and trying to pull a sheet over herself, embarrassed of her actions now. “She’s still in love with you. You can make things right with her, it’ll just take time. I understand; it’s fine.”
He looks at her, then at the door, then back down at Claire. Making up his mind, he rolls onto his elbows, looming over her. “I’m exactly where I want to be.”
“You’re going to ruin your chances with Maya,” she warns.
“I ruined those half a decade ago.” He lowers himself slightly, letting his body come in contact with hers. “She’s where she wants to be, and we’re here. Now, shut up and kiss me.”
She does, at the same time as she loosely wraps a leg around his waist, letting her foot rest in the small of his back. It’s not slow, it’s not exactly loving, it’s not what he expected, but as he finally slams into her, he knows it’s what they both need. Her breath catches as she stretches around him, and her head falls back, dark hair spreading around her on the bed. Pulling back, it kills him to slide back out, but the way her mouth forms a tiny perfect round and her eyes flutter close when he re-enters her is more than worth it. She’s so tight, so wet, so ready for him, that he just wants to lose himself in her, until it’s no longer Sylar and Claire, but rather Sylarclaire in a violent collision of bodies and skin, but he can’t. There’s no way the Ferret had been slow and tender with her, and so Sylar forces himself to slow down, going so slow that he’s not sure if he’s moving at all.
It’s not what Claire wants apparently, because she brings both legs up around his torso and rakes her fingernails down his back until he bleeds for her, making demands in his ear. “Fuck me, Sylar. I don’t want love; I want sex, a raw gritty fast fuck. Take me, break me, until I can’t remember that any other man exists. Make me yours.”
No, the relationship between them isn’t the same that it had been, and the awkwardness and the arguing are pushed away in a brutal explosion, but it’s not the explosion he’d been expecting. As Claire clenches down on him, swept away in an intense orgasm, he comes so hard his eyes roll back and he almost passes out from not breathing. An explosion has happened, but it’s one of feelings and emotions and sex, instead of the massive fight he’d been expecting.
He rolls over, panting, lying beside Claire, their hands intertwined, and falls asleep. He doesn’t move, doesn’t wake when she slides a pillow under his head and pulls the sheets and blankets up over them. Neither of them wakes when Maya sneaks out of the bathroom and joins them, curling up against Sylar, hand just millimeters away from touching him, too scared to reach out and grasp what she really wants.
Chapter Three