Title: Indulgences
Characters: Peter Petrelli, Sylar
Words: 900
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None.
Summary: They argue about whether one should be taken to task for the nature of a fantasy.

Peter murmured in Sylar's ear as they made out, "I'll forgive you your fantasies of revenge against my family if you'll forgive me for what I think about while you blow me."

Sylar was quiet for a moment, then asked with unexpected curiosity, "What do you think about?"

"Eh." Peter pulled back, the mood definitely broken. "That's … I mean, I-"

"Guilt? Now I must know."

"No, I was just saying I'd, I'd forget about … Sylar?" The last word was plaintive. He stroked Sylar's forearm.

Sylar put a hand on top of Peter's, stopping him. "How can I possibly know if we're discussing a fair trade if I don't know what you're offering? I've long since spilled about the darker reasons I want to take you to bed. You've been holding out on me."

Peter snorted and pulled his hand away. "That's a little heavy-handed, don't you think?"

Sylar shrugged. He kept his attention riveted on Peter.

"It's … degrading," Peter said.

"Having to admit it?" Sylar asked. "Or is what you think about so filthy that it debases you just to consider it?"

"No," Peter shook his head. "I think about you, degraded." Sylar looked dubious. Peter ran a nervous hand through his hair and tried to explain. "That you're doing it even though you don't like it, because you want me that much. You're desperate. It's embarrassing. I shouldn't think-" He shook his head again.

Sylar laughed openly. "Your disgusting fantasy is that your partner is willing and eager? You're such a Boy Scout."

"No!" Peter tried to find a better place to look or a possible distraction, but nothing presented itself. "You're humiliated. I'm better than you are. That with all your powers and everything you've done to me, you're still going to suck me off."

"Ah," Sylar said softly. "That only sounds honest."

Peter gave him a long look. "I'm … better than that. I'm supposed to be better than that. If I'm with you, then I shouldn't be thinking of you that way. It's wrong."

Sylar laughed again, but this time it was more of a low, amused chuckle. "You're a Petrelli, Peter. You want to dominate and control. It's in your blood. I would have thought lying was, too, but you seem to have mostly avoided inheriting that one." He leaned forward, close into Peter's space and whispered, "Tell me – does your fantasy involve me bound and bleeding at your feet?"

"Uh … no."

Sylar's brows rose. He backed off only enough to clearly see Peter's expression.

"No," Peter reiterated. "You're there because you want to be. That's important. I don't … mistreat you. We don't fight. That's not part of it." More gently he added, "That's never been part of it."

Sylar studied his face and lightly, teasingly, kissed Peter's lips. "You really do want me 'willing and eager'. Me. Because of who I am to you. You wouldn't feel this way about anyone else. You want me, Sylar, to care about you."

"Well … yeah." Peter moved forward and rubbed his nose on the side of Sylar's, which was what the guy deserved for getting so close and staying there.

"I'm so deep under your skin." Sylar sounded pleased. "And you're embarrassed about these things you think about?"

"Sylar … We should be equals."

"We aren't. We never will be. Now that is a fantasy."

Peter swallowed and looked away. He reached out and took Sylar's hand. "Yeah. I'm embarrassed about it. I think about choking you with my cock and you coming back for more. I think about how much you have to want me to put up with this. I think about how much you could hurt me, but you don't. I think about how I'm making you crawl, and that you're willing to crawl, to be with me. It's not right."

"No. But it's hot."

Peter's eyes jerked back to Sylar's face. Sylar's expression was neutral. Unoffended.

Sylar went on, "I don't want to forgive you your fantasies. I want to indulge them. I want you to indulge mine, if your sense of fairness extends that far, and if it doesn't, that's still acceptable." Sylar leaned forward again, giving Peter another kiss, this one with a touch of his tongue behind it. "Because I am willing to crawl. Whatever it takes, right or wrong. To keep you."

Peter drew in a deep breath, blinking. "If … we weren't here, we got out, and you had other options … you wouldn't-"

"I have no other option here or elsewhere," Sylar said with a bitter, emphatic turn to his voice. "Even if I did, you're the one who's with me. If you will have me, I am yours. If you will not, then you are just like all the rest and I have misjudged you." The words came out stiff and angry.

"Sylar," Peter said, "I want you to be mine. That's what the fantasy's all about. Mine."

Sylar exhaled slowly, obviously thinking that over for a moment. "There's nothing to forgive. From either of us. I give no apology for how I feel about your family."

Now it was Peter's turn to chuckle. "Sylar, you don't apologize for anything." He didn't let the man respond. Peter pulled him forward and locked their lips together, leaving the argument behind them.