Title: Movie Night
Characters: Sylar/Peter Petrelli
Disclaimer: Heroes belongs to NBC. No money is being made, just for fun.
Contains: Slash, fluff, sexytimes.
Summary: Set in the Wall-verse. What was supposed to be an innocent movie night leads to one thing after another, and another, and another...
Sylar's Point of View
The heat was nearly unbearable. Sylar sighed with relief as the sun began to set in the barren city and he was cloaked in shadow, cooling him down a little. He was heading back to the apartment with groceries, snacks for the evening. Peter had suggested they watch a 'hella scary movie' tonight when he got back from working on the wall so Sylar wanted to be prepared.
Even though Sylar was only wearing a thin black tank top, he was still soaking with sweat. He could feel it sliding from the nape of his neck, down the peaks of his smooth, angular shoulder blades, and then further below, across the small of his back, finally stopping to sink into his tight black denim jeans. He was anxious to get back to the apartment where there was not only an air conditioner, but Peter should be there waiting for him. He wanted the empath to see him like this, hot in more ways than one.
Wait'll he gets a load of me. Sylar grinned to himself. Nights like this were perfect for when Peter wanted to play his little mouse-teases-the-cat game in which he would act totally innocent and do subtle things to get a (literal) rise out of Sylar. Well tonight the tables would be turned; Sylar would be ready for him.
Arriving at the door to their apartment, Sylar knocked with his boot; his hands were too full of bags to do otherwise. The door opened and a powerful gust of wind started to fill the hallway, green leaves seemed to come out of nowhere and flew about in a whimsical fashion. Sylar could then smell the other man's sweat and cologne mixed together, an intoxicating, sweet scent.
Time seemed to be in slow motion as Peter stood there, his soft bangs swaying in the breeze. He was shirtless; his skin shimmered as the last rays of the sunset bounced off the misty layer of sweat that had formed on each and every one of his taut muscles. Tight, faded, blue jeans with holes in the knees were his only worn article of clothing. He tilted his head down and smiled innocently, looking up at Sylar. "Would you like some help with those?" he offered, holding out his arms.
Sylar didn't seem to hear this though. He stood there staring, his mouth agape. The groceries started to slip from his hands and Peter moved quickly to catch them. The sudden movement snapped Sylar out of the trance. "Oh, yes, thank you." And so the game begins with quite a bang, one point to Peter.
They sat the groceries down on the table and Peter began to put them away.
"No, that's okay, I got it." Sylar gently shooed the other man away from the table. As he put the frozen food in the freezer he looked around. Every fan they owned was on full blast but it was still very warm in the apartment. "Why don't you have the air on?" If I didn't know better I'd think this was part of his little game but it's just too boiling to be playing around like this. Sylar hated being so hot, he disliked sweating even more.
"I do have it on, it's not working," Peter explained, still keeping the look of total guiltlessness on his face. He sat down behind the bar on a stool facing Sylar.
Sylar noticed Peter watching him out of the corner of his eye and used this opportunity to take an ice cube out of the freezer and begin to slowly slide it over his body. It's show time! He lifted his head up, closing his eyes, and began under his neck, moving the cube back and forth, up and down. The ice immediately started to melt against his soft, moist skin, dripping down his chest and wetting his shirt. He moved it over to his broad shoulder, and then down his half flexed bicep and forearm, making those places wet as well. Sylar opened one of his eyes just enough to see if he had Peter's attention. He did and he could barely keep from smirking at how wide the other man's eyes had gotten.
It's time to bring out the big guns. Sylar then started to pull up his shirt with one hand and a new piece of ice in the other. He started by running the cube across the top of his chest, slowly working it from side to side, moving downward little by little. Trickles of water streamed through his chest hair, down his stomach, and soaked into his pants. When the ice traveled over his nipples, he would inhale sharply and quietly, just loud enough for the other man to hear. Sylar took another peek to find Peter was now biting his lip and his eyes were fixated on the cube of ice that was drifting lower, down across Sylar's toned abs. When the cube got to his happy trail, Sylar took his other hand to unbutton his pants. As he did so, he could hear Peter gasp softly. Sylar moved the ice across the top of his boxers teasingly, putting it halfway under the edge of them.
"You know-!" Peter squeaked, trying to regain control of his vocal cords.
This startled Sylar, making him drop the remaining piece of ice down his drawers. His eyes went huge at the cold sensation but other than that he managed to stay calm as the ice melted down below.
Peter licked his lips, cleared his throat, and tried again, "You know, that looks really refreshing. Can you hand me a couple of those cubes? Sorry for making you jump."
"It's ok, didn't notice you there." Surely he's not going to try and top my performance. Sylar handed over the ice and watched with curiosity as Peter took them and proceeded to casually drop them down the front of his pants as if it had nothing to do with Sylar's little show. Aha, victory! Point for me! Sylar didn't bother concealing his amusement this time as a big grin spread across his face.
A few moments passed as Sylar finished setting everything in the fridge. He could sense the empath's eyes on him, watching his every move, and it felt wonderful. He loved feeling wanted, especially by Peter. He decided he'd give the other man one more little thrill before he left the kitchen. Sylar bent over, reaching down to the bottom drawer to put the eggs away, letting his tight pants do the rest of the work.
Peter appeared to ignore Sylar's presentation and walked over to the entertainment system. "I'm going to go ahead and put on the movie if you're ready," he stated flatly.
Sylar walked out of the kitchen, slightly confused. He sauntered over to a mirror and glanced at his own ass, trying to figure out why Peter wasn't mesmerized by it. It looks pretty good to me. A feeling of self-doubt began to wash over him. He then heard the other man giggling and spun around to face him.
"I'm sorry but… what are you doing?" Peter covered his mouth to try and muffle the laughing.
"I… was just, um, making sure there wasn't any dirt on my jeans." Sylar then walked toward the air conditioner and tried to change the subject. "I'm going to fix this real quick first before you start the movie. I can't stand this heat anymore."
Peter's face turned serious and he quickly stood in front of it, blocking Sylar. "I've already tried, there's no use in you wasting your time as well." He crossed his arms.
"It sounds like the compressor isn't even kicking in. It could be something as simple as the temperature gauge being broken." Sylar tried to step around Peter, gently pushing the shorter man out of the way.
Peter seemed to think about that for a second. "Yeah, that's exactly what I thought and I've already checked for it. You don't trust my judgment?" He then got closer, into Sylar's face with a challenging look. "If you continue to try and fix this thing even after I've already told you I looked at it then… you'll be undermining my masculine intuition thereby devaluing my ego and possibly even giving me a complex."
"…" Sylar tilted his head and raised his brows. "Peter, you have no idea what you just said, do you?" he asked, slightly snarky. Is this another one of his games, does he want me to wrestle him to the ground or something? I wouldn't mind that, actually.
"Alright, stand back and give me some space. I'll try one more time to fix it." Sylar moved and Peter turned around toward the box in the window and proceeded to hit it a few times until the compressor started buzzing and cold air began to fill the room.
Sylar wasted no time in getting up close to the magical cooling box, nudging the other man to the side and almost throwing him off balance in the process.
They both stood there, side by side, skin making contact, taking in the icy breeze.
Sylar was leaning on the box with a dopey grin on his face, eyes closed, oblivious to Peter staring at him. The relief from the heat was pure heaven.
Peter cleared his throat which caused Sylar to jump a little and look at him. "Your shirt is soaking wet. We should get that off of you before you catch a cold or something." Without giving Sylar a chance to protest Peter moved in closer, put his hands on the ex-killer's hips and started to lift his shirt up slowly.
Sylar's eyes widened. Oh yeah, back to his little game. He nodded and gazed into Peter's face which looked as though it was concentrating on defusing a bomb instead of removing a tank top. Those eyes, I could get lost in them. The other man's soft touches began to give Sylar tingly sensations as goose bumps appeared across his pale, bare skin. Sylar leaned in a little, so close to Peter's lips, so tempted.
Their eyes met and Peter tugged on the shirt, urging Sylar to raise his arms so he could finish his task. The taller man obeyed and the shirt was then tossed aside.
Peter smiled, patted Sylar on the shoulder, and then moved past him toward the couch. "Finally, it's movie time."
What a tease! I guess that's another point for him. Sylar glanced down to make sure the effect Peter had on him couldn't be seen through his jeans and then made his way over to the couch to join his friend. "Are you sure there are no zombies in this movie? You know how they give me nightmares." He examined the DVD box, making sure there were no living dead on it.
"Do you know how ironic that is, that you are scared of zombies?" Peter pressed play on the ps3 controller and the movie started.
Sylar gave him an unsure look.
"Yes, I'm sure. There are no zombies. It's called The Grudge and it's about a ghost. You can handle those, right?" Peter ribbed Sylar gently.
"I ain't scared of no ghosts," Sylar stated quite seriously.
Peter raised a brow, unsure. "Good. Because this is the scariest ghost movie of all time."
Maybe if he gets scared he'll hold on to me, Sylar hoped.
So they leaned back and settled down to enjoy the movie. As it went on the weather outside got stormy, light rain came down from the sky.
Halfway through the film Peter got up and went to the kitchen to get them some drinks and a snack.
Sylar didn't pay much attention to the other man; his eyes were glued to the screen.
As Peter walked back he got a mischievous idea. He sat the food on the counter, ducked down into the darkness and, like a ninja, made his way over behind the couch unseen. He popped his head up behind Sylar's, got close to his ear, and mimicked the Grudge monster's sound, "Ghuuuuuuughhhh."
Sylar yelped while jumping five feet into the air, landing across the room while Peter fell over, cracking up with laughter.
Sylar ran behind the couch and looked down at Peter, "I'm going to kill you now!" He pounced on top of the empath, straddling him at the waist, and began tickling mercilessly. "You want something to laugh about? I'll give you something to laugh about!" It was very easy to get to all of Peter's tickle spots with only a pair of pants for defense.
Peter held his sides as the attack went on, laughing harder and harder, tears rolling down the sides of his face. The targets were his underarms, his sides, and his nipples.
Sylar ceased for a moment so the other man could catch his breath and then looked behind him, spying the ultimate prize.
"No!" Peter protested. "Not the feet, please!"
His plea was ignored as Sylar flipped around, still straddling him, and continued the assault, one foot at a time. At this, Peter's laughter got higher pitched. Sylar paused again to let him catch his breath.
During the small break, Peter noticed he could see the top of his captor's boxers and reached over to run his fingers underneath the edge of them slowly.
Sylar's head perked up and he straightened his back. Oh, he's sneaky. He then felt gentle tugging on the back of his jeans. He sighed and took the hint, undid his pants, and held his breath, not sure what to expect. Sylar felt his jeans and boxers being pulled down as much as they could be while he was sitting in that position, which wasn't very far, only halfway down his ass.
Peter began running his fingers lightly over the newly bare skin, making little shapes and patterns.
Sylar blushed as he felt soft hands making their way back and forth from the little dip at his hip bone to the middle of his ass. He closed his eyes, exhaled, and began to feel Peter hardening beneath him. I don't care about keeping score anymore, you win. I can't take much more of this teasing.
"I'm sorry I scared you," Peter said sweetly. "Will you forgive me?" He then traced a sad face on Sylar's left cheek.
Sylar looked to the side, trying to look back at the other man, and nodded. "I guess so, if you promise not to do it again."
"I promise." Peter then drew a smiley face on the other cheek and heard Sylar chuckle. "Alright, let's finish that movie, shall we?"
Sylar felt a light smack on his bottom and then Peter pulled his pants back up for him.
Sylar pouted a little and thought about taking matters into his own hands by grinding on Peter's lap to convince him to stay but decided against it. He didn't want to push and risk ruining anything, if there was anything there to ruin. He stood and helped the empath to his feet.
Peter retrieved the snacks from the counter and brought them over while Sylar fastened his jeans, which were a bit tighter now, and they both sat down on the couch to continue watching the film.
A few minutes later, after a particularly scary part, Peter scooted in close, wrapped a blanket around them, and rested his head on Sylar's shoulder while taking one of the other man's hands into his own.
Sylar looked over with surprise and started beaming with delight. He closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of Peter's hair. Mmm, strawberries.
They stayed like that for quite a while until Peter's stomach made a hunger noise. He sat up and handed Sylar a Dr. Pepper before he started to open his frozen snack.
"Where did you find that?" Sylar inquired.
"Somehow they got hidden in the very back of the freezer. I almost didn't see them." Peter then popped the banana popsicle into his mouth and sucked on it suggestively while looking up at the other man with total purity.
Sylar's jaw dropped. Hoist by my own petard!
"Oh, do you want some? We could take turns. They're pretty big; I wonder how much of it I can put in my mouth at once." Peter then attempted to find out as Sylar watched, totally mesmerized. Peter tilted his head up and to the side as he slid almost the whole thing into his mouth. After that, he licked up and down the length of the popsicle in long, precise movements.
Eyes wide, Sylar gulped and began to feel his skin getting warm as blood rushed to one particular area. He quickly grabbed a couch pillow and put it over the growing bulge in his pants for camouflage. Dammit Peter, I thought we were past these little games. What the hell?
"Oh, thank you." Peter then took it upon himself to lay his head down on the pillow in the other man's lap.
Sylar looked down at him and just sighed. I can't do this. I can't deal with this teasing. I need you. I want you. All of you, not just a taste. This is pure torture and I can't take it anymore. He then turned his attention back to the movie which was almost over. He would sort his feelings out later.
As the credits rolled, Peter sat up and looked at Sylar thoughtfully.
"What is it?" Sylar asked in a tired tone.
"Well, I'm kind of scared after watching that. I was wondering if you wouldn't mind keeping me company in my bed tonight?" Peter completed this request with his trademark puppy eyes.
Sylar dropped his head back and looked at the ceiling. He knew he couldn't look at Peter if he was going to say what he had to say. "Peter, I'm exhausted. My brain aches, my crotch aches, and I do not feel like anymore of your games. I'm not falling for this."
Peter tossed the pillow aside and straddled Sylar's lap. "I wasn't joking. This is not a game to me." His voice started to crack.
Sylar lifted his head back up, meeting the other man's. "Prove it," he growled.
At that, Peter grabbed the back of Sylar's neck and pulled him in for a deep, passionate kiss. He wasted no time plunging his tongue into Sylar's hot mouth, exploring and making the other man's breathing start to quicken.
Sylar put his hands onto Peter's waist, his thumbs pressed into the curves at his hip bones as he pulled him down until their groins made contact. Peter seemed to catch the hint and began grinding on him slowly. The friction between them sent shivers up Sylar's spine, eliciting a moan from deep within his throat.
Peter ran his fingers through the back of Sylar's soft hair, catching it into a fist and tilted the ex-killer's head back gently as he trailed tender kisses from his mouth down to his, now totally exposed, long pale neck. Sylar gasped and tried to catch his breath as Peter continued, stopping to nibble and suck as he went lower.
Sylar swallowed and managed to finally say, "Okay, I believe you."
"I knew the hard evidence would prove my case." Peter then trailed his tongue from Sylar's chest up to his ear and began nipping.
"We should…" Sylar panted, "…head to the bedroom."
"Well then," Peter whispered softly into Sylar's ear, his warm breath causing goose bumps, "gitty up, baby." He bucked gently, as if trying to get a horse to start walking.
Sylar blinked a few times in surprise and then complied. He scooted up, locked his arms under Peter's ass to support his weight, and then lifted them both up off the couch.
Peter wrapped his legs around the other man's waist tightly.
Sylar held onto Peter securely as they headed for their destination, wobbling just a little. He was glowing. Sylar couldn't remember when he had last been this happy, maybe never. "Oh, and Peter…"
"Yes, hunny bunny?"
"You can add the Grudge monster in with zombies on the list of stuff that scares the hell out of me… and don't call me 'hunny bunny'!"
"Sure thing, schmoopsie-poo."
Peter's Point of View
Peter rushed in the door and scurried over to the window to make sure Sylar wasn't following him. After he decided the coast was clear he began the preparations. He recruited all the fans in the apartment and arranged them to face the door. He then took a bag out from under the counter and began to sprinkle its contents around the doorway and out into the hall. The green leaves were dry, very light, and he figured they would have no trouble flying about once the fans were switched on.
Peter then turned his attention to the air conditioner. He studied it, trying to figure out a way to temporarily disable it. Without a clue of how to do so, he finally decided to just turn it on the fan setting and make sure Sylar didn't get close enough to notice. With that taken care of, he changed into his faded blue jeans with the holes in the knees. Those seemed to be Sylar's favorite on him. He left off his shirt, doused himself with cologne, and blow dried his hair to make sure it was extra bouncy. To finish off the effect, he opened the shades to let in the dusk and then took a water bottle to spray a fine mist over himself, watching as the sunset made his skin shine.
Peter smirked to himself. Sylar won't know what hit him. Yes, tonight was one of those nights where Peter would tease the hell out of Sylar, watching his reactions and loving every minute of it. As if on cue there was a knock on the door. Let the games begin! He rushed to it, turned the handle, and pressed the remote that turned on all the fans at the same time. The door opened and Peter watched the other man's expression closely as the wind set the show into motion.
Sylar's eyes went wide as he scanned the luscious body in front of him.
Peter enjoyed this so much. His heart fluttered as Sylar's dark eyes drank him in.
Sylar's jaw began to drop as did the groceries he was holding.
"Would you like some help with those?" Peter asked but received no answer. Heh, surprise attack works every time. The bags then began to fall further and Peter had to move fast to catch them.
"Oh, yes, thank you," Sylar finally responded. They took the groceries in and Peter started to put them away. "No, that's okay, I got it." Sylar stopped him.
That's weird. He never wants to put the food away. I always have to do it. Peter was then rushed out of the kitchen.
"Why don't you have the air on?"
"I do have it on, it's not working." Peter had gotten very good at lying during his time here with Sylar; it had gotten him out of many arguments with the former killer. Peter took a seat on a stool behind the bar as he watched Sylar put the items in the fridge. Damn, he looks so good in that tank top. I want to put him on a plate and sop him up with a biscuit. He licked his lips and giggled quietly to himself at that thought.
Hmm, what's he going to do with that ice cu-… oh… my… God. Peter watched with rising interest as Sylar began to rub the cube of ice over his body. His skin started to flush and his pants began to tighten as he became hypnotized by the obscene show his roommate was putting on for him. Peter bit his lip, trying to keep a wanton whimper from escaping. His eyes fixated on the cube as it ran over Sylar's soft, pale skin leaving a wet trail. The sound the other man made when he ran it over his nipples was just too much and Peter couldn't help himself, his hand disappeared behind the bar and he began to stroke himself through his jeans. A quiet gasp escaped Peter's lips as Sylar unzipped his pants. He then snapped out of the trance. Wait a minute, this is my game, and I'm in control here. That sneaky bastard!
"You know-!" Peter interrupted, making a sound that wasn't the manliest. He watched as Sylar's eyes went wide when the rest of the ice cube fell down his boxers. Sylar's such a goofball. A lovable goofball. "You know, that looks really refreshing, can you hand me a couple of those cubes? Sorry for making you jump."
"It's ok, didn't notice you there."
Lies. Peter took the cubes from Sylar and pulled the top of his pants open to drop them down. I certainly can't get up in this condition. You win this round. He noticed the gloating smile that appeared on Sylar's face. He should smile more often. Maybe I can help him with that. Peter stared at the other man for several more moments, admiring him and waiting for the excitement to die down in his jeans.
Sylar then bent over to reach something in the bottom of the fridge, an obvious attempt to get Peter's attention again.
Peter was tempted to watch but resisted. Oh no you don't, I'm taking back control of the situation. He then got up and strolled away to the entertainment center. "I'm going to go ahead and put on the movie if you're ready."
Peter noticed Sylar had left the kitchen and was now staring at his own ass in one of the hall mirrors. He analyzed the situation. Surely he's not getting self-conscience because of me. He continued to watch as Sylar tried to glance at his backside from different angles. Oh God, this is just too adorable. Peter's giggling could not be contained; Sylar heard it and spun around.
"I'm sorry but… what are you doing?" Peter asked.
"I… was just, um, making sure there wasn't any dirt on my jeans." Sylar then darted toward the air conditioner. "I'm going to fix this real quick first before you start the movie. I can't stand this heat anymore."
Peter blocked him. Uh oh. "I've already tried, there's no use in you wasting your time as well." He crossed his arms.
"It sounds like the compressor isn't even kicking in; it could be something as simple as the temperature gauge being broken." Sylar ignored Peter's certainty and continued to try to get to the air conditioner.
Ah, that sounds like a pretty good reason, I'll go with that. "Yeah, that's exactly what I thought and I've already checked for it. You don't trust my judgment?" Peter stepped in closer to Sylar, attempting to look threatening while trying to come up with a plan to get him away from the air conditioner. I got it; I'll say something really smart to try to confuse him, which should buy me some time. "If you continue to try and fix this thing even after I've already told you I looked at it then… you'll be undermining my masculine intuition thereby devaluing my ego and possibly even giving me a complex." Ooh, that sounded good!
"…Peter, you have no idea what you just said, do you?" Sylar said in that tone that Peter despised, it reminded the empath of the killer he used to be.
I don't want an argument now. I don't want this to turn into a fight. "Alright, stand back and give me some space. I'll try one more time to fix it." Peter turned around and hit the air conditioner a few times with one hand while, unseen by Sylar, turning the dial from the fan setting to the cool setting with the other. He was then pushed aside as Sylar dashed in front the box as if his very life depended on it. Peter just watched him.
Sylar stood there, seemingly lost in the new cold sensation washing over his body.
Perhaps he was a penguin in a past life, Peter pondered. He then remembered that the other man's shirt was still wet and he could get sick going from hot to cold like this. And yeah, a shirtless Sylar wouldn't be a bad thing either. Peter cleared his throat to get Sylar's attention. "Your shirt is soaking wet, we should get that off of you before you catch a cold or something." He moved in closer, putting his fingers under the edges of the taller man's shirt and began to pull up slowly. Letting his fingertips barely graze across Sylar's smooth skin, he watched in awe as goose bumps began to form. He felt Sylar's breath on his face and looked up to see he was even closer now. Those lips, oh man. Peter started to gravitate toward them, to capture them with his own, but he caught himself. Not quite yet. He finished helping Sylar take off his shirt, patted him on the back, and walked past him to the couch. "Finally, it's movie time."
"Are you sure there are no zombies in this movie? You know how they give me nightmares."
"Do you know how ironic that is, that you are scared of zombies?" It's ironic and weirdly cute at the same time. Peter noticed the scared look Sylar gave him. "Yes, I'm sure, there are no zombies. It's called The Grudge and it's about a ghost, you can handle those, right?" He ribbed Sylar gently.
"I ain't scared of no ghosts."
Oh we'll see about that. "Good, because this is the scariest ghost movie of all time." When he does get terrified he might hold on to me, Peter hoped.
They sat back and started watching the movie. Halfway through Peter got up to get them some food. In searching the freezer he discovered a box hidden in the very back that he knew wasn't there before. He guessed at what Sylar had planned to do with this evocative snack. Very sneaky. On his way back he got an idea for a prank. No, I shouldn't. Peter sat the food on the counter. I mustn't. He disappeared into the shadows. Sylar is going to do some serious bodily injury to me after this. He got behind the couch with no trouble and without being spotted. Peter popped his head up behind Sylar's, got close to his ear, and mimicked the Grudge ghost's sound, "Ghuuuuuuughhhh."
Sylar squeaked and jumped clear across the room.
That was so worth it! Peter exploded with laughter, falling to the ground. A moment later he looked up to see Sylar looking down at him, his teeth gritted.
"I'm going to kill you now!" Sylar pounced on Peter, straddling him. The tickle torture began. "You want something to laugh about? I'll give you something to laugh about!"
While this attack continued Peter started to form a plan, he kicked the wall with his foot to try to get Sylar's attention.
It worked; Sylar noticed the tapping as he was giving Peter a chance to breath.
"No!" Peter protested. "Not the feet, please!" That's right, take the bait.
Sylar flipped around and began to work on the feet.
In the next break Peter put the second part of his plan into motion. He took his fingers and ran them under the edge of his tormentor's silk boxers suggestively. He saw Sylar react to this, stiffening and sitting up straight. After a moment, Peter got impatient and tugged on the other man's pants in a take-these-off gesture. I wonder if he'll actually do it. Peter's eyes widened as Sylar pulled down his jeans and boxers halfway. Jackpot! As he admired Sylar's firm, supple ass, he traced his fingers over it softly, drawing little patterns. I want you so bad, you don't even know. He ghosted his hands around to the side, debating on whether to go further. Peter sure wanted to, his whole body did and he was certain Sylar could feel that too.
"I'm sorry I scared you," Peter said in his sweetest tone. "Will you forgive me?" He then traced a sad face on Sylar's left cheek.
"I guess so, if you promise not to do it again."
"I promise." Peter then drew a smiley face on the other cheek and heard Sylar chuckle. "Alright, let's finish that movie, shall we?" He smacked Sylar's ass playfully and then pulled the taller man's pants back up for him. They got to their feet and Peter brought the snacks over to the couch where they continued to watch the movie.
A few minutes later, Peter felt how frightened Sylar was getting. Moving over closer, he wrapped a blanket around them, put his head on Sylar's shoulder and took one of his hands. Don't worry, I'll protect you. They remained like that for a bit until Peter started to feel a hunger pain. Sitting up, he handed Sylar a cola and unwrapped his snack.
"Where did you find that?" Sylar hid his surprise well.
Right where you buried it, duh. "Somehow they got hidden in the very back of the freezer, I almost didn't see them," Peter answered as he put the banana popsicle into his mouth, slurping on it and letting his cheeks hollow out slightly while glancing up at Sylar with the countenance of a saint.
Sylar's jaw dropped and Peter wished he had a camera, his expression was priceless.
"Oh, do you want some? We could take turns. They're pretty big. I wonder how much of it I can put in my mouth at once." Okay, maybe that was over the top. Oh well. Peter then proceeded to put almost the whole thing in his mouth and then licked up and down on it for good measure all while keeping watch of the other man's face.
Sylar looked like a deer caught in headlights. He grabbed a couch pillow and sat it in his lap.
"Oh, thank you," Peter said in an innocent tone as he lied his head down on the lap pillow, smiling to himself.
Not long after, the movie was over and the credits started to roll. Peter sat up and gave Sylar a considerate stare.
"What is it?" Sylar asked, obviously exhausted from something.
"Well, I'm kind of scared after watching that. I was wondering if you wouldn't mind keeping me company in my bed tonight?" Peter tilted his head down slightly, made his eyes huge while still fixed on Sylar, and then made a little pout with his mouth. No one can resist this look.
Sylar looked away. "Peter, I'm exhausted. My brain aches, my crotch aches, and I do not feel like anymore of your games. I'm not falling for this."
He… deflected the puppy eyes. This must be serious. I've pushed him too far. Peter's heart sank a little. This has been fun but it's time to stop messing around. He hopped into Sylar's lap and pleaded to him, "I wasn't joking. This is not a game to me." He concentrated on holding himself together.
Their eyes met. "Prove it," Sylar growled.
At that, Peter launched a full on attack on Sylar's mouth, hot and passionate. Their breathing sped up as they grinded on each other slowly. Peter heard Sylar moan and gasp in pleasure as he began to kiss the ex-killer's neck and chest. Oh my God, I love the sexy noises he makes.
"Okay, I believe you," Sylar finally huffed.
"I knew the hard evidence would prove my case." Hey, that was pretty witty. Peter's tongue moved up to Sylar's ear.
"We should…" Sylar panted, "…head to the bedroom."
"Well then," Peter whispered softly into Sylar's ear, his warm breath causing goose bumps, "gitty up, baby." He bucked gently, as if trying to get a horse to start walking. I wonder if we have a saddle around here somewhere. After a moment, Peter was hoisted up into the air. He locked his legs around the other man's waist and prayed that he wouldn't be dropped as they wobbled to the bedroom. Peter put his head on Sylar's shoulder and sighed with content. He couldn't remember the last time he was this happy. I could get used to this.
"Oh, and Peter…"
"Yes, hunny bunny?" I've wanted to call him that all day.
"You can add the Grudge monster in with zombies on the list of stuff that scares the hell out of me… and don't call me 'hunny bunny'!"
I'll probably pay for this one dearly but it's worth it to see his reaction. "Sure thing, schmoopsie-poo."