Random Pylar smut
Jan. 26th, 2013 08:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
spongetasticHow could you miss someone when they were two feet away? That was how Peter felt around Sylar lately. The sensation made him ache, only getting worse as the days dragged on. Sometimes the taller man would touch Peter’s hair or shoulder, but the gesture was always brief. When the hand moved away Peter felt more alone than ever.
Finally he couldn’t stand it anymore. Sylar was doing the dishes when Peter interrupted him. He tilted his head up, catching those lips in the slightest of kisses. That’s all he needed: Sylar grabbed him in fierce desperation, his answering kiss hungry. Peter let out a sigh of relief between their lips and placed his hand behind Sylar’s head to keep the other man in place.
His teeth worried the taller man’s lips until they parted for him. Peter’s tongue thrust in and they started stumbling together for some flat surface. He wasn’t sure which one of them started removing clothes first, not that it mattered. His fingers needed that warm hard skin underneath them again. Was it really a few weeks since their last time? It felt like longer… Or never at all.
Peter’s bare back hit the wall and he grunted softly. Sylar’s hot breath was on his neck, making it difficult to think straight. His fingers slid down into the man’s brief to touch his hardening member. It was a relief he wasn’t the only one hot and bothered by this. Sylar hooked his thumb in Peter’s underwear and gave a sharp jerk to pull them off the empath’s hips. He hissed as it sprung free and hurriedly did the same for Sylar.
Sylar pressed tight against Peter and the smaller man bit back a scream as his sensitive organ nudged up against Sylar’s. Panting, he shifted his hips for more of that sweet friction. Using Sylar’s shoulders as leverage, Peter hoisted himself up and locked his legs around the other man’s waist. So close… they were so close he whimpered. He licked his lips and breathed two desperate words into Sylar’s ear:
“Fuck me.”
It was a relinquishing of the control he had while in their world, because here he felt completely out of control. He needed Sylar to keep him steady and sane. Sylar’s fingers obliged without question, first one and then two as he touched Peter in a place no one else went before. Peter let out a sigh, fingers digging lightly into Sylar’s back. The fingers started to move and Peter rocked slightly, his hardening cock nudging Sylar’s stomach.
God, he could get off from just this… It wasn’t like he was a virgin. He had sex before, but this felt twice as intense. It couldn’t just be because it was the first time going anal. Peter was too scattered to think about it.
“Wait… Peter, fuck. The lubricant.” He felt them move from the wall and tightened his legs around Sylar. One arm hooked around Sylar’s neck while the fingers of the other tweaked the man’s nipples into hard nubs. Sylar let out a soft growl but Peter ignored him, wanting to get the killer as sexually frustrated as Peter felt.
The fingers slid out of him and he groaned, but they were back again with slick lube this time. Peter worried he wasn’t going to make it: the touch of Sylar’s fingers enough were making his body feel on fire. But Sylar must have read that, and had Peter up against the wall again. His fingers went out and the tip of his penis took their place.
“Ohhh. Sylar…” The noise was guttural and Peter shuddered. Dear god, Sylar’s dick was big. Of course Peter knew that already but he never felt it before. He tried to focus on breathing as Sylar pushed to the hilt. Two parts of a whole fitting perfectly together.
“I figured you’d be a tight-ass,” Sylar remarked with a smirk.
“Shut up,” Peter huffed back. His cock was aching for attention so he bucked up against the taller man to gain friction. There was a triumphant gleam in Sylar’s eyes as he started a rhythm inside the empath’s body. It wasn’t nearly as rough as Peter expected. He couldn’t have handled it rough for his first, time anyway. Not when just this was pushing him to the limit.
Then Sylar’s hand was on him, fingers stroking with a patient pace. Peter struggled to give something back but all he managed in his pleasure-haze was kisses to Sylar’s neck and shoulders. A few more thrusts and strokes from Sylar, and he was done. He barely recognized his own voice as he moaned through his release.
“Peter,” Sylar purred out, and he shuddered at the longing. He felt the killer come inside him and let out a sigh.
“Finally,” he breathed. Sylar hummed in agreement.
Finally he couldn’t stand it anymore. Sylar was doing the dishes when Peter interrupted him. He tilted his head up, catching those lips in the slightest of kisses. That’s all he needed: Sylar grabbed him in fierce desperation, his answering kiss hungry. Peter let out a sigh of relief between their lips and placed his hand behind Sylar’s head to keep the other man in place.
His teeth worried the taller man’s lips until they parted for him. Peter’s tongue thrust in and they started stumbling together for some flat surface. He wasn’t sure which one of them started removing clothes first, not that it mattered. His fingers needed that warm hard skin underneath them again. Was it really a few weeks since their last time? It felt like longer… Or never at all.
Peter’s bare back hit the wall and he grunted softly. Sylar’s hot breath was on his neck, making it difficult to think straight. His fingers slid down into the man’s brief to touch his hardening member. It was a relief he wasn’t the only one hot and bothered by this. Sylar hooked his thumb in Peter’s underwear and gave a sharp jerk to pull them off the empath’s hips. He hissed as it sprung free and hurriedly did the same for Sylar.
Sylar pressed tight against Peter and the smaller man bit back a scream as his sensitive organ nudged up against Sylar’s. Panting, he shifted his hips for more of that sweet friction. Using Sylar’s shoulders as leverage, Peter hoisted himself up and locked his legs around the other man’s waist. So close… they were so close he whimpered. He licked his lips and breathed two desperate words into Sylar’s ear:
“Fuck me.”
It was a relinquishing of the control he had while in their world, because here he felt completely out of control. He needed Sylar to keep him steady and sane. Sylar’s fingers obliged without question, first one and then two as he touched Peter in a place no one else went before. Peter let out a sigh, fingers digging lightly into Sylar’s back. The fingers started to move and Peter rocked slightly, his hardening cock nudging Sylar’s stomach.
God, he could get off from just this… It wasn’t like he was a virgin. He had sex before, but this felt twice as intense. It couldn’t just be because it was the first time going anal. Peter was too scattered to think about it.
“Wait… Peter, fuck. The lubricant.” He felt them move from the wall and tightened his legs around Sylar. One arm hooked around Sylar’s neck while the fingers of the other tweaked the man’s nipples into hard nubs. Sylar let out a soft growl but Peter ignored him, wanting to get the killer as sexually frustrated as Peter felt.
The fingers slid out of him and he groaned, but they were back again with slick lube this time. Peter worried he wasn’t going to make it: the touch of Sylar’s fingers enough were making his body feel on fire. But Sylar must have read that, and had Peter up against the wall again. His fingers went out and the tip of his penis took their place.
“Ohhh. Sylar…” The noise was guttural and Peter shuddered. Dear god, Sylar’s dick was big. Of course Peter knew that already but he never felt it before. He tried to focus on breathing as Sylar pushed to the hilt. Two parts of a whole fitting perfectly together.
“I figured you’d be a tight-ass,” Sylar remarked with a smirk.
“Shut up,” Peter huffed back. His cock was aching for attention so he bucked up against the taller man to gain friction. There was a triumphant gleam in Sylar’s eyes as he started a rhythm inside the empath’s body. It wasn’t nearly as rough as Peter expected. He couldn’t have handled it rough for his first, time anyway. Not when just this was pushing him to the limit.
Then Sylar’s hand was on him, fingers stroking with a patient pace. Peter struggled to give something back but all he managed in his pleasure-haze was kisses to Sylar’s neck and shoulders. A few more thrusts and strokes from Sylar, and he was done. He barely recognized his own voice as he moaned through his release.
“Peter,” Sylar purred out, and he shuddered at the longing. He felt the killer come inside him and let out a sigh.
“Finally,” he breathed. Sylar hummed in agreement.