Originally Published: 02/16/10 on Livejournal. (See profile for links.)
Title: A Life Worth Living
Summary: A night of love turns to something a bit more serious.
Spoilers: Season 1-4, just to be on the safe side.
A/N: This is so damn fluffy it will send you into a diabetic coma. You have been warned. I still don't know how this emerged from my brain… but I think I can vindicate it just a little by the obscene amounts of porn… And the Princess Bride reference…
The night seemed like an unusually calm one, for New York. The streets seemed hushed, the steady pass of cars only a quiet swoosh outside their window as the faded yellow light of the streetlamps snuck through the curtains into the quiet, warm apartment.
Peter was in bed, still awake, enjoying the quiet and the steady lull of traffic.
Sylar was next to him, pressed against his side, asleep contently with an arm draped across Peter's chest.
Peter watched him sleep, admiring the long, dark lashes on his closed eyes, the shadow of facial hair on his face and the elegant lips parted slightly in sleep.
It was not the first time it struck Peter just how beautiful his partner was.
He couldn't help but turn on his side carefully to press against him, lightly trailing the backs of his fingers along his cheek and planting a gentle kiss on his lips.
Sylar stirred slightly, making a sleepy noise before opening his eyes blurrily.
"What're you doing?" he muttered thickly, and Peter grinned. The dishevel man looked way more adorable that he had any right to. It was an unfair advantage.
"Kissing you," he replied quietly, then leaned in to do it again, just a light peck on the lips, barely touching, "I'll stop, you can go back to sleep."
"Mmm… that's ok," Sylar sighed contently, scooting a little closer and tipping his head for another kiss, "I don't mind waking up to this."
Peter smiled and kissed him, just a chaste press of lips for now, their breath mingling warmly together.
Sylar opened his mouth, let his tongue sneak out to gently trace the seam of Peter's lips, asking, sweetly, for entrance.
Peter smiled against him and allowed it, their tongues tangling together in a dance of pleasure that made them both melt contently into the sheets.
"Mmm… want you," Sylar murmured between kisses, his hand rubbing affectionately over Peter's chest before sliding around him, gently attempting to pull the empath on top of him.
"As you wish," Peter whispered, and Sylar gave a small chuckle before replying, "Ok there Wesley. Or it is the Dread Pirate Roberts?"
"Neither," replied Peter as he slid over the taller man, Sylar parting his legs to allow Peter to rest between them, pressing their chests and groins together tightly, "Just Peter, if that's ok with you."
"Of course," Sylar crooned happily, kissing him again so sweetly it made Peter's heart tighten, "I love you; you're always the one I want."
"Good," Peter murmured, kissing along Sylar's jaw slowly, and he obediently tilted his head back for more, "because you're all I want too."
Sylar purred a little "Mmm…" of satisfaction as Peter kissed along his exposed neck slowly, nibbling gently here and there and taking his time to savor the taste of his warm skin.
He pushed up on his elbows and slid lower, laying kisses down Sylar's chest and abdomen slowly and thoroughly while his lover purred and sighed in contentment.
Sylar stilled in anticipation when Peter reached his hips and slid his arms under Sylar's legs, hands spread flat on his ass and propping him up slightly as Peter hotly mouthed his right hip before moving to his left, taking his time, teasing with hot swipes of his tongue and a gentle squeeze of his hands.
"Peter, please," Sylar moaned breathily, hands sliding gently through Peter's dark hair and massaging his scalp soothingly.
"Patience," Peter tsked sweetly, earning him a groan that was anything but.
He enjoyed a few more moments of teasing, listening to Sylar moan and sigh with a smirk before finally taking pity on him and trailing a kiss up Sylar's half-hard cock, flicking his tongue out for little licks here and there along the way.
Up one side and down the other he went, occasionally kneading Sylar's ass as well and listening to his sounds of contentment.
He felt his bangs tickle the underside of Sylar's cock as he titled his head, nosing one of Sylar's balls before licking with a flat, broad stroke.
This earned him a quiet curse of pleasure so he did it again to the other before gently taking them into his mouth each in turn, giving a careful suck and another gentle lick.
"Fuck Peter," Sylar panted, and Peter looked up wantonly, Sylar's hard length between them.
"Not yet sweetheart," Peter teased gently, licking a hot trail up the underside of his cock before opening his mouth to engulf his head.
"Oooo…" Sylar groaned, fingers digging a little deeper into Peter's hair and arching appreciatively.
Peter began a slow rhythm, hollowing his cheeks and bobbing his head, occasionally humming in his throat in a way he knew drove the other wild.
"Peter," Sylar growled ruggedly, voice laced so thick with desire Peter could have cut it with a knife.
He gave Sylar's cock a final suck before sliding his mouth off with a little pop. He moved back up his lover's body, laying a trail of kisses as he went.
He heard the bedside drawer open telekinetically, grinned with amusement when Sylar called the lube to his hand.
"So impatient…" Peter tsked again, ravaging Sylar's mouth with a hard, hungry kiss, using it as a distraction to pluck the lube from his fingers.
He swallowed Sylar's moan of protest and groaned warmly when Sylar wrapped his arms and legs around him possessively, canting his hips up to rub and grind against Peter in a wordless plea.
"You're insatiable," Peter murmured, nibbling his lip delicately.
"You're a tease," Sylar complained with a small pout that made Peter laugh.
"You're too cute."
"Shut up and fuck me you brat," Sylar demanded with a playful slap on the shoulder.
Peter made a show of sighing dramatically and Sylar bit his neck in retaliation.
"Hey! Now who's the brat?" Peter chastised, but popped open the lube anyway, and Sylar smiled smugly.
Peter took great satisfaction in wiping that look clear off his face by pressing lube-slicked fingers against Sylar's opening, teasing firmly around the edge before pressing a finger through the tight ring of muscle.
Sylar's eyes fluttered closed with a breathy sigh and Peter watched with rapt attention to Sylar's face, watching the subtle bliss slide over it, seeing the bursts of ecstasy when he would crook his finger to rub against his prostate.
He got up to three fingers when Sylar looked at him with lust-blown eyes and said quietly, "I'm ready, please…"
Peter nodded once and grabbed the lube, spreading more between Sylar's legs before slicking himself.
He watched Sylar's features carefully for any signs of discomfort as he pressed inside Sylar's hot passage and saw none. Only lustful abandon.
Finally he was completely sheathed and he pressed their foreheads together with a small tremble, whispering softly as he began to move, rocking together in the sweetest way, "God, I am so in love with you."
Sylar could only kiss him, wrap his arms and legs around him a little tighter and give tiny, encouraging sounds of pleasure, and Peter understood, knew every touch meant "I love you too," when words failed.
They moved together slowly, sweetly, taking their time and enjoying every minute and still it seemed to come to an end too soon, rising over the final crest together and letting the wave overtake them, shaking and trembling in the afterglow with every tiny aftershock of pleasure.
They dozed in the post-coatis sleepiness, sharing the occasional delicate kiss and tracing sensitized skin lazily.
Peter was still laying over him, still inside him even as he began to soften, but loathe to move.
"Hey," he began softly, pressing their foreheads together and giving a lingering kiss, "Wanna marry me?"
Sylar stilled under him, and Peter pulled back to look in his eyes; gauge his reaction.
Sylar was watching him with wide, surprised eyes, disbelief written clearly across his features.
Peter gave a shy smile and a tiny peck on Sylar's still lips.
"I'm serious," he encouraged, "Marry me."
"I… you… are you sure?" Sylar questioned, seemingly still too shocked to process an answer and Peter nodded seriously.
"Very," he replied, "I love you, I want you, always. Usually when people want that they get married, get it declared for the world to see," he smiled shyly, stammering, "Of course, if you don't feel the same way, I understand… I mean, I know I come on a bit strong with my emotions sometimes, act a bit rash as a result, but I want-"
He was abruptly cut off by Sylar capturing his lips in a passionate kiss that took his breath away.
"Peter, shut up," Sylar growled, "of course I'll marry you, you hopeless romantic fool."
Peter felt his face break into an unstoppable smile and his heart suddenly felt ten times lighter than it ever had.
"I love you. So much."
"I love you too. Always."
A/N: Cripes… how on earth did this stem from my brain? O_o