Disclaimer: I do not own anything.

Warning: Sexual contents. PWP. Threesome. Double penetration. Sylar/Elle/Peter :)

X X X

Game Night: Round Two

X X X

Elle takes a long sip of her cherry slush-o, all the while gazing intently at the small watch shop across the street.

It is just like the good old days. The sensations are pleasantly familiar. Adrenaline courses through her body, flowing in her veins as she watches her target with keen eyes. Like a dangerous predator stalking her prey, her prey who is so obliviously unaware of his imminent peril and stumbles within her territory.

Peter fidgets beside her and pulls her back to reality.

Yeah yeah yeah. Who is she kidding? She may be a danger to the world, but she is just a puddle of jelly in front of Sylar.

Sylar will probably spank her till she can't sit if he finds out what she's planning…Elle shivers at the thought.

She looks at Peter from the corner of her eye. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel, his eyes staring attentively at the watch shop as well; a small frown slowly forms between his brows.

Elle holds her slush-o up for him and grins. "Are you nervous, Petey?"

Peter shakes his head, declining her offer of slush-o. "I just don't think it's going to work."

Elle curls her lips mischievously and takes another long sip of her slush-o, then she turns her body and reaches up to kiss him, holding the nape of his neck so he can't back up as she pours the slush-o into his mouth.

Peter stiffens at her attack and grimaces as he swallows the excessively sweet drink.

Elle giggles. "Come on, Peter. It's my birthday. You have to ambush Gabriel for me."

Peter licks his lips, not sure if the sweet taste is from the slush-o or from her. You'll get used to it, and then you'll start to like it. He sighs. "So I go inside and hold him, then what? I can't hold him for long."

Elle shoves a hand in her pocket and digs out a small bottle. "You only have to hold him long enough so I can give him this."

Peter gapes at the transparent bottle in shock. Inside the bottle is a red and white pill. He is all too familiar with it. No…she wouldn't dare…"It's…"

Elle grins. "Yep. Haitian pill. But it's only one, so it won't suppress his powers for long. We'll have to act quick."

For a moment Peter cannot speak. He silently questions himself how he ended up tangled with Sylar and Elle one more time before he shakes his head in disbelief. "You do know that he'll make you pay for this, right?"

Not that he doesn't enjoy seeing Elle in trouble though, Peter thinks wryly.

Elle pretends to think for a moment. "Nah. He'll make us pay for this. You're in this with me."

XXX

Sylar flips the shop sign to CLOSED with a lift of his finger and carefully places the watches back in the glass cabinet. He is pleasantly surprised that the tiny gears and cogs in a watch still intrigue him, even after all the marvelous things that he has seen.

His door jingles and Peter walks in.

Sylar raises an eyebrow at him. "Shop is closed."

"I think I hated you so much at one point I stopped wearing watches," Peter deadpans.

Sylar rolls his eyes. "What're you doing here, Peter?" He would have winced at his words, but apologies have been said and forgiveness has already been given. It all happened in his head, but both of them know just how real it really was.

Peter darts forward and catches his hand. "It's Elle's birthday."

Sylar looks down at Peter's hand in slight confusion. Yes, he knows it is Elle's birthday—

Before Sylar can say anything, Peter withdraws his hand. "As per your girlfriend's request, she wants you."

Sylar furrows his brows, perplexed now. "Me?" That makes no sense, he is already hers.

Peter grins. "At her mercy, so to speak." Then he lifts his arm experimentally.

Sylar widens his eyes in alarm as his arm lifts up against his will, mirroring Peter's motions. Son of a bitch.

Now he understands, remembering what Elle said about returning the favor when he tied her up the other night. Oh, Elle Bishop. You're in deep water.

Sylar tilts his head and looks at Peter condescendingly. "Really, Peter? Using my own power against me? I think we've already established who has better control of these abilities."

He pushes at the mental hold and immediately feels Peter put in more effort to keep him immobilized.

Peter gives him a tight smile. "I brought a partner."

Then the door jingles again and Elle walks to Peter's side. She grins roguishly at Sylar.

Sylar snorts. "Don't take me wrong, Elle. You have an impressive power, but I don't see how it's useful for what you want."

Elle steps forward, her eyes wide and hesitant. "Don't be mad, Gabriel." Then she takes the tiny bottle out from her pocket and pours the pill out on her hand.

An ominous feeling creeps up Sylar's spine right away. He does not know what that pill is for, but he is positive that it isn't something that he wants to take. Elle steps closer and he growls. "Don't you dare, Elle."

Uncertainty flickers across Elle's face, and Sylar takes the opportunity to concentrate and fight for control over his own body. Damn it. He needs time. Peter is not as weak as he thinks.

Peter grits his teeth. "Elle, now!" Then he opens his mouth and makes Sylar do the same.

With Peter's encouragement, Elle swiftly shoves the pill in Sylar's mouth and runs it down with a glass of water. Sylar feels his head jerk back against his will—and he swallows the pill.

His last conscious thought is goddamned Peter Petrelli.

XXX

As soon as Sylar regains consciousness he knows he is in deep water.

He is sitting in a chair, naked, blindfolded, and tied up with his hands behind him—and of course, powerless. Again.

That damned power negation pill!

"Gabriel! You're awake!" Elle's excited voice comes from right in front of him. He presses his mouth in a thin line and does not respond.

"…Gabriel, are you mad?" Elle asks, the excitement in her voice has faltered.

Sylar scoffs. He is not mad. He is furious. He doesn't like being controlled, not one bit. It has already happened too many times—How many times has he let others control him? His mother, Angela and Arthur Petrelli, Matt Parkman…and each time was a valuable lesson.

He'll be damned if he ever gives up control again.

Elle pouts and climbs on his lap, straddling him. "Don't be mad? I'll make you feel really really good?" Then she kisses him.

Normally Sylar would never say no when Elle says that to him, but this time, he really is not in the mood. He turns his face away and snaps, "Get off me."

He feels Elle stiffen on him, and then she gets off his lap and takes a few steps back.

Elle takes a deep breath as tears blur her vision. Of course she knew Gabriel would be mad at her for pulling that stunt, but she didn't expect him to be that mad. She bites her lip and considers calling it a night. There is no point in doing this if Gabriel hates it so much. This is about his enjoyment as much as hers.

Suddenly Sylar feels another presence approaching him, then Peter whispers in his ear, "Today is Elle's birthday, are you really going to make her cry?"

Sylar's heart squeezes. Is she crying? He doesn't hear anything, but he can already picture her stubbornly choke back her tears, not letting them fall.

"And I'd think by now you should know that neither of us is going to harm you. I think we deserve some trust from you," Peter says.

Sylar rolls his eyes behind his blindfold. Of course the empath could sense his insecurities. And Sylar begrudgingly acknowledges that he is right.

Elle has once broken his trust, but she has earned it back—by trusting him. How many times has she surrendered control to him, proven to him that she is utterly his, even after he killed her? And Peter…well, Peter has just never betrayed him.

"Elle, I thought you were going to make me feel good?" Sylar says reluctantly.

Elle's face lights up immediately. Wow, what did Peter say to him? She quickly trots back onto his lap and kisses him full on the mouth.

Sylar strains his arms, wanting to hold her. Gee, these ropes are tight. Elle presses herself against him, and he groans in her mouth. She is naked too, and he can feel those soft breasts squished against his chest. His cock twitches. Fuck, he wants to touch them.

Then Elle withdraws from him and jumps off his lap.

Sylar waits, wondering what she will do next.

He feels Elle resting her arms on his thighs—she is probably kneeling before him—and she grabs his cock. She gives it a few gentle strokes, and Sylar exhales audibly. Then he hears rapid crushing sounds. She is chewing something—something crunchy—like chips?

What the hell is she doing?

Just as he furrows his brows in confusion Elle takes him in her mouth, and it's COLD.

"Oh my God!" Sylar yells out at the sudden sensation. She was eating an ice cube! He feels his balls tighten and his cock hardens even more in her mouth. Elle draws back and swirls her tongue around the tip, and then takes it all back into her mouth, letting it hit the back of her throat. Sylar moans, he tries to thrust his hips forward and fuck her mouth, but his restraints prevent him from doing so. He can only get what she gives.

Torture. She is torturing him.

Elle removes his cock from her mouth. "Did you like that, Gabriel?"

Before he can answer, Elle takes him back in her mouth again, and he gasps sharply.

Her mouth is hot—probably just took a sip of hot drink—hot and wet against his cool skin. "Oh God…" he throws his head back and groans. His cock pulses, begging for more stimulation. Elle bobs her head up and down, letting his cock slide in and out of her hot and slippery mouth. Sylar struggles against his bonds again. He needs to fuck her deeper in the mouth. This is not enough…not nearly enough.

Elle withdraws her lips from his cock again, and Sylar blows out a breath, anticipation bubbling up inside him. If she pulls another stunt like that, he is going to—

"Gosh, Elle," Sylar cries out loud as Elle wraps her mouth around him one more time. Her mouth is cold again, but there is something else, a tingling that makes his cock even harder, almost painful. He thrusts his hips forward futilely and groans in frustration. "What the hell is that?"

Elle does not answer, too busy creating friction between her mouth and his cock.

Peter laughs. "Sparkling water." He steps forward and tugs Elle's ponytail playfully. "My turn."

Elle releases Sylar's cock from her mouth with a pop and gives it a final lick. She then turns to bat her lashes at Peter. "Feeling neglected, Petey?"

Peter drags her up by her ponytail—a moan escapes her lips as her anal plug shifts—and presses a kiss on her lips. "You bet I am." Then he takes her to the bed not far from Sylar.

Sylar listens in disbelief as their footsteps become farther. What the fuck? "You guys are just going to leave me hanging here?"

Elle giggles. "Patience is a virtue, Gabriel."

Sylar growls as his cock twitches in protest. He is so going to kill them. Both of them.

Peter laid Elle on the bed and spread her legs. He moves the anal plug around experimentally and she moans. "How does it feel?" Peter whispers, not wanting Sylar to hear.

Elle smiles at Peter's tenderness. She whispers back, "Good."

Sylar grits his teeth. Now they are whispering.

Elle gasps in pleasure when Peter lowers his head to lap at her sensitive clit. He circles her clit with the tip of his tongue, the direct stimulation couples with the unexpected sensation of her muscles convulsing around the butt plug make Elle cry out and close her thighs reflexively.

Peter catches her thighs and pushes them farther apart. "Sshh." And he continues to work her with his tongue.

Elle whimpers and moans as pressure builds low in her belly. She can feel wetness drip from her pussy, her belly tightens with arousal and the butt plug presses against her wall. Her pussy feels too…empty compared to her ass.

"Please, Peter, more," Elle pants, and moans out loud when Peter inserts two fingers in her.

Sylar pulls at his restraints as his erection becomes more and more painful. Whatever Peter is doing to Elle that makes her make these noises, he wants to see. This is unbelievable. Tying him up to listen to them fuck? He never knew Peter could be that evil.

"So wet, Elle," Peter murmurs, pumping his fingers in and out of her entrance, and Elle throws her head back and whimpers. It feels good, his fingers pumps faster in her slick pussy now, pressing against the butt plug deep inside her other entrance, sending waves of pleasure through her body. Then Peter lowers his head to resume licking her clit. "Oh God, Peter…Peter…oh…" Elle gasps out loud as he licks her clit up and down in an almost mechanical manner, his fingers pumping fast and deep in her pussy. Then suddenly everything becomes too full and too much; her entire body tenses up as she comes with a strangled cry.

Sylar wonders if one can die from having a rock hard erection, and then he realizes dryly that the real torture here is that he can't die.

Elle gives a soft whimper as Peter removes her butt plug.

Elle sits up and grins when she sees Peter's rock hard cock. She palms it gently—making Peter hiss—and tries to take it in her mouth.

Peter puts a hand on her shoulder to stop her. He whispers in her ear, "I like that idea, but I don't think I can wait anymore."

He pushes her on her back gently and instructs her to flip over, and Elle bites her lip slyly and complies. Then Peter puts something cool and thick all around and inside her back entrance. Lube. Lots of lube.

Sylar hears popping sounds—something opening and closing. What the hell are they doing? Then he finally hears footsteps approaching. He blows out a breath. He guesses they haven't completely forgotten about him yet.

He feels a hand reach behind him and fumble with something on the back of the chair, then with a sudden click, the back of his chair tilts all the way back and he is almost lying down. And then with a few more clicks, the chair raises up higher. That's a hell of a chair…makes him feel like a piece of meat on a cutting board. Powerless. Vulnerable. Turned on. Okay, maybe a piece of horny meat.

"Gabriel," Elle says in a singsong voice, still slightly out of breath. "How're you feeling?"

Murderous. He is feeling murderous.

He licks his dry lips. "What do you think?"

Elle giggles and pecks his lips. Then she wraps her hand around his cock and he draws in a breath sharply. She is spreading something cold all over his length, lube?

Oh, that he likes. He holds his breath in anticipation.

Then Elle climbs up and straddles him. He can feels her lush bottom on his lower abdomen—she has her back to him, and then she grabs the base of his cock, raises herself up and—

"Oh God," Sylar breathes. Elle has eased the tip of his cock in her ass, hot and slick and deliciously tight, and he can feel her walls squeezing him. Elle takes a deep breath and lowers herself more, letting his cock stretch her. The butt plug and lube have prepared her well enough, and soon Sylar feels himself buried deep inside her.

Sweat breaks across Sylar's skin and he strains to move his hips, but to no avail. God, he is hating his restraints with a passion now. The moment he gets his powers back he is going to fuck Elle till she never dares tie him up again…

Elle moves up and down experimentally and both of them moan. Elle licks her lips, pleased to find that her thorough preparations have prevented any discomfort. She leans back a little and spreads her folds open with one hand seductively, "Peter, come."

Peter doesn't tell to be told twice. He promptly positions himself between Sylar's legs, then he pushes his cock in Elle's pussy.

All three of them gasp.

Peter wraps an arm around Elle's waist and starts pumping. "Oh…oh my God…" Elle whimpers. She has prepared herself, but Sylar is bigger than the butt plug and Peter bigger than his fingers. She is full, too full. She moans in ecstasy as Peter thrusts into her, each thrust in turn makes her ass move up and down against Sylar's cock, sending pleasure to her very fingertips.

Sylar grunts in frustration at his vain attempt to thrust his cock up deep in her ass.

Moans and whimpers fill the room as the three of them find their rhythm. The two men groan as Elle's walls clamp down on them, both of her channels wrapping around them tightly. They can feel the other man through that thin wall, adding extra frictions to their cocks.

When Elle moans their names pleadingly they feel like they are going to come undone.

Then suddenly Sylar feels the familiar rush of powers returning. He barks a breathy laugh and lifts his finger, causing the ropes to untie themselves and his blindfold to fall off. He sits up abruptly, making his cock sink deeper in Elle's ass. Both Elle and Peter draw in a breath in surprise.

"Oh…Gabriel…that Haitian pill must have expired or something…" Elle gasps, then she yelps when Sylar thrusts his hips up punishingly.

Peter hisses, feeling Sylar's cock rub against his inside Elle. He sees Elle's scrunched up face and rasps, "Easy. You're in her ass."

Sylar softens his hip movements, having no desire to really hurt Elle.

"Don't be mad…Gabriel…I can help you kidnap Peter next time…" Elle turns and rubs her head against his cheek.

Peter freezes and stares at Elle in disbelief.

Sylar grabs her hips and pumps slowly in and out of her, earning sweet moans from her. He grits his teeth at her tightness. "I…don't need your help…kidnapping…Peter."

Elle grins at Peter and squeezes her pelvic muscles, making both men groan. "Come on Petey, I did it to Gabriel, you think I won't do it to you?"

Treacherous minx! Peter starts pounding a little faster into her, grabbing one breast and taking her nipple in his mouth. Elle squeals, her eyes nearly roll back in her head as Sylar matches Peter's pace; one pulls out as the other pushes in, working her closer to another orgasm.

"I'm gonna come…I'm gonna come…" Elle whimpers, digging her nails in Peter's shoulders.

Sylar snakes a hand down between Elle and Peter and finds her clit. As soon as he brushes a finger across it Elle screams, her body spasms between the two of them and she comes hard, biting down on Peter's shoulder.

Peter winces and rams faster into her convulsing pussy, feeling Sylar's cock pressing against his through the thin skin inside her. Elle whimpers, her muscles clench around them as the aftershocks of her orgasm rocket through her body. Finally both men hit their climaxes with incoherent grunts and spill inside her.

The three of them do not move for a while, leaning against one another and catching their breaths. As Peter's head clears from the sexual haze, he has an ominous hunch.

He feels like he may get ambushed any time soon.

-End-