Good Morning
3rd Person POV
Sylar flexed his arms and clenched his fists, testing the give of the coarse rope he's tied in. The rope groans but doesn't give. His body is spread eagle across the matress, his feet tied just as firmly to the bottom bed posts. Sitting on his stomach was Peter, looking all too pleased with himself. The nurse smirked and rolled his hips back and forth over Sylar's stomach, gently bringing his erection around. He let out a sigh and lowered himself onto Sylar so that his cheek was pressed into his lover's.
The dulcet tones of Bobby Darin were rolling out of the speakers, 'Beyond the Sea', their favorite. Over that they could pick out the little creaks and groans of the bed's slow rocking motion. Peter's face flushed a delicate pink color, spreading across his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. Sylar shivered at the feel of Peter's warm breath gliding past his ear. He rocked his hips up, matching Peter's slow pace. More.
More what?
Anything.
Peter huffed and raised himself up, bracing his palms on the bed just below the curve of Sylar's underarms.
"Be patient."
Sylar sneered and turned his nose up at the nurse, showing his displeasure. Peter ignored the gesture and rolled his neck slowly, working out the kinks and sighing as the good feeling washed over him. Below him Sylar's muscles began to twitch and bunch in anxiety.
"Just...relax."
Peter took a deep breath and braced his palms on Sylar's stomach and slowly started to run them up towards his chest and over his nipples.
"I'll make you feel good I swear."
Sylar huffs and thunks his head back against the pillow, his eyes focusing on the ceiling. The childish response does nothing to deter Peter, and the nurse continues to knead his fingers into the haired flesh of Sylar's chest. The cat like motions lull Sylar into a false sense of security that doesn't last. Just as Slar relaxes enough to loosen the muscles of his arms, Peter strikes.
He claws harshly down the length of Sylar's chest drawing blood and an angry hiss. The nurse watches in awe as little swells of blood pool up out of the cuts and trickle down Sylar's sides. He presses his palms reverantly against the torn flesh and smiles at the feel of the skin knitting back together.
"C'mon Peter. Do something. Make it good."
Peter makes a 'tch' noise and rocks up onto his haunches, hovering over Sylar's groin.
"Don't make it sound like we're in a porno. It's gross."
Sylar grins lecherously and tries in vain to raise his hips enough to rock into Peter.
"Then shut me up Petrelli."
The taunt rolls out as a smug challange, daring Peter to take action. The nurse smiles coyly down at Sylar and lowers himself back onto Sylar's groin. He rocks his hips in gentle circles back and forth, pressing down just enough to give relief but not enough to make Sylar happy.
Sylar's arms twitch and strain in his bonds and Peter can see him itching to pull free. The nurse lets out a soft appreciative hum and slowly
brings his body flush against Sylar's. His hands run gently up Sylar's arms, the touch light and ticklish. The muscles in Sylar's arm pushed against the skin and quivered under the gentle onslaut.
"Ah ah ah, Sylar. Be a good boy."
What was that about not sounding like a porno?
Be good.
Sylar sighed and let the tension flow out of his body, relaxing into the matress and away from Peter's playful hips. The mischevous smile he gets in return is enough to put Sylar at ease. That smile always means good things.
The next thing he feels is a warm, soft cheek, pressing into his chest and dainty fingers curling around his hipbones. Next the cool whispers of telekenesis began roaming across his body, from nipples to thighs, front and back. It came in great swooping waves and lashes, teasing his skin. S'nice...different, but nice.
Peter refrained from responding, fearing that a quip would ruin the moment. Instead he turned his head and placed a lingering kiss to Sylar's breastbone, and then bit down. The sharp intake of breath and involintary intake of breath encouraged Peter to nibble like a cat before soothing the hurt with quick swipes of his tongue. His finger's dug further into Sylar's hips, anchoring him as his hips jerked down in harsh thrusts. Peter arched his back and locked his arms in place, his head thrown back.
Sylar looked down at his hips and groaned. A fresh wave of desire crashed through him at the sight of Peter's stomach stretched taught, and his hips pressed tighly against his own. The nurse's thighs locked tighter around the outside of Sylar's. The extreme curve of his spine made it difficult to rut and stay and place, but Peter found it well worth the effort.
The friction between the two of them was just this side of painful and Sylar loved it. Peter tossed his head back and let his mouth drop open. He knew a blush had spread across his cheeks, Sylar's favorite look on him, so he licked his lips and shook out his hair. Sylar groaned and bucked up against Peter as best as he was able and tried in vain to press his feet into the matress for more leverage. Despite Peter's previous warning Sylar broke the bonds holding his ankles and surged up against his lover.
Peter gasped as his arms gave out. When he collapsed his chin collided painfully with Sylar's chest and knocked his teeth together with a large clack.
"Damn it Sylar!"
Sylar grinned planted his feet firmly against the bed and locked his thighs tightly against Peter's hips. Peter snarled at Sylar but decided not to move. He wanted to get off as much as Sylar did and he knew that if he pouted too much Sylar would just pull away and jack off onto his face. So he snarled instead and bit down on Sylar's nipple, tearing the delicate flash and drawing blood.
Peter dug his toes into the sheets sucked harshly on Sylar's nipple, enjoying the metallic tang of blood curling around his tongue. Sylar yanked once on his bonds and the rope bit and tore at the delicate flesh of his wrists. Peter released Sylar's nipple and dug his claws into Sylar's hips hard enough to draw blood.
Peter dug the balls of his feet into the bed harder and raked his nails up Sylar's sides before reaching up to curl them around Sylar's bonds. They bucked against eachother in a frenzy, all slapping skin and harsh hipbones.
Do it.
Peter smiled into Sylar's chest and tugged down on the bonds, ripping more of Sylar's flesh. Sylar growled and tossed his head from side to side as the rush of orgasm welled up inside him along side the tingle of his healing. His come rushed out and splashed against Peter's thighs and groin before wicking away onto his own thighs and the sheets below him.
He arched his back and telekeneticly released his wrists, letting them flop back to the bed with a thud. He smiled cockily to himself as Peter continued to rut and grind against him. The nurse's breath came out in needy pants, the warm puffs of air teasing Sylar's nipple. A small trickle of drool made its way onto Sylar's chest in the midst of a needy whine.
Sylarrrrrr.
Sylar made a 'tch' noise and brought his hands down to curl harshly around Peter's hipbones.
Keep whinin' Petrelli.
Peter rolled his eyes up to try and catch a look at Sylar's face but the angle was all wrong. So he slid his eyes shut and played up his desperation. He wriggled against Sylar's grip and began whimpering and keening into Sylar's chest.
That's it. Keep it up.
Peter felt a thin, unrelenting force press against his ass and force it's way inside of him. Sylar aimed a few concise jabs at his prostate, harsh and unrelenting. Peter's new whines were genuine and his wriggling became uncontrollable. The muscles of his tighs twitched and quivered as Sylar changed the telekenetic touches to something almost ticklish.
"Uh! Sylar! Syyyy...S-Sylar!"
The reformed killer laughed once, a harsh cruel sound that cut through the Darin CD still playing in the background. He readjusted his grip and pulled Peter onto his knees and forced his arms out to the sides, as if he was balancing. Peter dropped his head to his chest and watched as Sylar telekeneticly forced the opening of his urethra wider. A bolt of panic shot through Peter, gripping his chest and clenching his throat. But it went as soon as it came and the feeling of panic was pushed aside by the feel of his orgasm tearing through him.
When the last of his come had spilled out onto Sylar's stomach, the taller man dropped him. And for the second time that night Peter's chin crashed painfully into Sylar's chest.
They laid together in silence, Peter's harsh breathing drowning out the music coming from the speakers. The cooling come felt gross against his stomach and his jaw still twinged from his abrupt landing, and just as Peter moved to raise himself up Sylar's hand began threading through his hair.
"Good Morning Peter."
"G'Morning Sylar."
Disclaimer: I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the Settled World Verse series.