Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Warning: Sexual contents, threesome, a certain electric girl got some light spanking. You've been warned.

Author's notes: Sylar/Elle/Peter threesome. They have to be my OT3! Am I going to go to hell for writing smut?

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The Art Of Recovery

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Their relationship started with the intent to comfort Peter.

Save the cheerleader, save the world. Peter had fought for so long, had never given up, mostly because he'd believed that no matter what he did, what paths he took, he would always be her hero.

Elle remembers how crushed he was when Claire began dating—what's her name?—her roommate. The worst part was that he started losing his power—he couldn't absorb people's power anymore when he touched them.

Sylar was worried. He had grown tight with Peter during the time that they'd spent together in his head—behind the wall—they said. Sylar figured that Claire's rejection must have hurt Peter so much that his brain decided to shut off his empathy, his ability to connect with people so easily. Empathy, something that Sylar was just starting to develop…

Knowing that Elle has always had a crush on Peter anyway, Sylar suggested to help him. To show that they cared. To show that with their limited empathy, they understood his pain.

One night Sylar and Elle invited Peter over. After a few drinks, one thing led to another. Soon they were a mess of tangled limbs on the bed, and Peter found that he did need the company. All three of them were surprised to find how natural they'd fitted together…like now.

Elle takes Peter deeper in her mouth. She stands on her hands and knees, angling herself so that Peter's cock hits the back of her throat. Peter groans. He twists her hair in his hand and thrusts gently into her mouth.

Sylar watches them with a heated gaze and runs his hand along Elle's smooth back, tingling her lightly as he does so. Elle moans when he rubs his hard cock against her pussy, already wet from all the fondling that they gave her. Sylar lowers his head to plant kisses on her fair back, marking her skin while wrapping an arm around her to cup her round breast, rolling a nipple in his fingers.

Elle whimpers and gives Peter's cock a hard suck, making him moan. She wiggles her ass, begging Sylar to take her. She is really pretty, Peter thinks to himself, looking at Elle's flushed face. Peter brushes her bangs aside, surprised by his fondness towards her. She now has her eyes closed, concentrating on pleasuring him, and he tries to keep his breaths even.

Peter has always found her pretty, long from the days when he was stuck in the company cell, but he never knew that she had the capacity to care—about anyone, not to mention him.

The past few months have been rough, and Elle's liveliness has given him another kind of light. Peter thinks of the other blonde who broke his heart. The two are so different…Elle's smile can liven up a whole city, just like her sparks, whereas untold stories hide underneath Claire's sad little smile…

Elle suddenly brings a hand up to rub his balls, swirling her tongue around the tip of his cock at the same time. Peter gasps out at the sensation, "Claire—"

Elle freezes.

Peter stops in horror and looks down at Elle, who is now biting her lip and staring at him with wide eyes, hurt apparent on her face. Behind Elle, Sylar has stopped his motions as well, his expression says "really?"

Before Peter can say anything, Elle shoots a bolt of electricity at him and knocks him backwards. Peter hisses and clutches his side, where the electricity hit him and it's stinging like a bitch.

Sylar yanks Elle to his side by the arm and hisses in her ear, "What did I say about shocking us without permission?"

Elle glares at Peter, struggling to free her arm from Sylar, "He fucking called me—"

Sylar slaps her ass hard to silence her, and her breath hitches. The slap echoes in the quiet room. "You might want to change your attitude."

Elle bites her lip to keep quiet, her ass burning from where it got slapped. Sylar is generally an easygoing boyfriend, but not in the bedroom. In the bedroom, he is all for obedience; and she has agreed to it. Obeying him in the bedroom makes her knees all weak and sends butterflies in her stomach. Like now.

"It's fine," Peter says, staggering to his feet. His wound is now bright red and the skin will probably start peeling in a day or two. He sits down on the edge of the bed, "It was my—" fault.

"Stop spoiling her," Sylar shoots back, giving Peter a meaningful look, and Peter grins. Peter thought Sylar didn't notice the way Elle would always piss him off and then subtly hide behind Peter to avoid punishment.

Apparently he did.

Sylar says to Elle coldly, "You broke his skin. Go apologize."

Elle's lips quiver. She doesn't like the coldness in Sylar's tone, she likes his approval—their approvals, and affection. Has she really messed up?

She crawls over to the bed and eyes Peter's wound, and feels bad immediately. Peter can't heal anymore…he hasn't gotten his power back yet. Elle is ready to apologize when she looks up at Peter's eyes, and the apology gets caught in her throat.

He has called her Claire. He thought it was Claire Bear sucking his brains out through his cock. At least she has never gotten Sylar and Peter mixed up in bed. Elle bites her lip and realizes belatedly that she probably cares about Peter more than she thought. She turns her head away stubbornly.

Sylar's lips curl up in a smirk. He raises his eyebrow at Peter and Peter gets the cue right away. Oh well, he will apologize for calling the wrong name later, but first he is going to enjoy spanking Elle's cute little perky ass.

He pulls Elle up abruptly and bends her over his lap, Elle gasps and attempts to push herself back up, "What're you—"

Peter smacks her ass hard enough for her to yelp, "I'll stop when I get my apology." His tone was calm, gentle even, but firm.

Elle sucks in a breath, she never knew Peter had it in him—smack —she whimpers. Sylar has always been the one dealing out the punishments, and Peter is supposed to be the pushover—smack. Peter rubs her bottom in between smacks, his hand big and warm, making her skin all fuzzy and tingly—smack—Elle can't help but squirm on his lap, and she moans in pleasure when her clit rubs against his thigh. Peter snorts with amusement, "This is a punishment, Elle. Stop moving." And then he starts to smack harder, making her hiss in pain.

But even so, she can still feel herself growing wet—smack—her pussy aching to be filled. She holds back a moan as Peter's hardness pokes at her side. She wants that inside her…

Peter smacks again, seemingly harder. Or maybe she only thinks it's harder because her ass is really starting to hurt now. Her bottom is tender and sensitive…she knows it must be bright red.

Smack. Elle flinches at the sting. "P-peter…" she begs.

Peter stills his hand and listens. He rubs and kneads her hot flesh, making her sigh. When Elle says nothing else, he smacks again.

Elle jumps and whines in pain, "Peter…it hurts…stop…please."

At that, Peter's face softens. Sylar rolls his eyes at Peter and walks over. Oh Elle, still manipulative when bent over with her ass up high for them to play with.

"Mind if I join?" Sylar asks.

Peter chuckles, "Not at all."

Sylar inserts two fingers in Elle's wet pussy, making her gasp out in pleasure. He slides them in and out torturously slow, while Peter keeps on smacking and rubbing her bottom sensually. Elle moans erratically and pushes back on Sylar's fingers, hoping they will go deeper.

Then Peter smacks her really hard, eliciting a sob out of her, "I said don't move."

Elle wants to move her hips, but Peter is holding her in place with one arm. His other hand rubs her hot bottom, and Sylar's fingers are not moving at all.

They are ganging up on her, trying to drive her insane. She knows it. She turns her head to look up at Peter's handsome face. He is looking at her with desire that makes her gulp with arousal, and she drops her grudge against him. "Peter…I'm sorry for shocking you without permission. Please, no more," she begs, her mouth dry and her breathing uneven.

Sylar smirks behind Elle and takes his fingers out, and she whimpers at the loss.

Peter pulls Elle up on his lap and kisses her on the mouth. He gives her a lopsided smile, "Make me feel really good with that mouth and all is forgiven."

Elle bats her lashes at him coyly and drops to her knees, licking his shaft up and down like a popsicle. She turns her head and sways her hips at Sylar, "Please, Gabriel."

"I've been waiting for this the whole night, Elle." Sylar caresses her bright pink bottom fondly before thrusting into her welcoming pussy. Already all worked up from the spanking, Elle's wall clamps down around him tightly. He grits his teeth, "You don't come until Peter does."

Elle's moans are muffled as she closes her lips around the tip of Peter's cock. She grabs the base of his cock lightly and squeezes, running her tongue around the tip. Peter groans, "God, Elle…" he tangles his hand in her hair and pushes himself in as much as possible, relishing the heat of her mouth.

Sylar is pounding mercilessly into her now. Elle whimpers against Peter's cock, getting closer and closer to her orgasm. If Peter doesn't come soon, she will…then there will be another punishment.

The thought of being punished by her lovers makes her tighten around Sylar, and he hisses, thrusting harder into her. Elle bobs her head faster and deeper, cupping Peter's balls with her fingers at the same time. And then she hears Peter gasp, his thighs tensing up—so she closes her cheeks around his cock and sucks like it's a giant slush-o straw, and Peter comes in her mouth with a cry.

Elle swallows like a good little girl, coughing a little. With her mouth now free, she shrieks when Sylar wraps his arm around her and brushes her clit, "Ahh…Gabriel…Gabriel…" She is close, so close…

Peter crouches down in front of her and kisses her mouth, "Elle, you look so pretty like that." And then he moves his arm around to cup her breast and pinch her nipple, and she shudders and comes undone between the two men, shouting incoherent words that sound like "Pete" and "Gabriel".

When Sylar groans and finds his own release, he collapses onto Elle, who in turn falls on top of Peter, knocking the wind out of him. The three lie on the floor together, panting and catching their breaths.

Peter grumbles, "You two are so heavy, get off…"

Sylar laughs and sits up, pulling Elle onto his lap. Peter sits up and winces, his side still stings from Elle's attack earlier.

"I'm sorry, Peter," Elle says, "I forgot that you couldn't heal."

Peter winks, "It's okay. I enjoyed spanking you."

Elle giggles, but she still looks a little down, and then suddenly he understands why and identifies that emotion—she is still upset. Upset and jealous that he has called out Claire's name earlier.

Peter cups Elle's cheek, "Hey. I know who I'm having sex with. You're not a replacement, Elle. I care about you."

Elle reaches up to kiss him, and then suddenly she jumps a little, jerking her face away from Peter.

Peter frowns, "What's wrong?"

"Peter, you just sparked her, I felt it," Sylar stares at him.

Peter stares back at him, and then at his own hand. He tries to focus—and a ball of electricity forms in his hand. Weak, but it is there.

Elle squeals in delight, "It works! It works! Peter, your empathy is back."

A small smile plays on Peter's lips, he forms a bright ball of sparks in his hand, and then he grimaces, "What do I tell Mohinder? Threesome restored my power?"

-End-