Getting It, Chapter 1: Getting It Up
Title: Getting It Up
Characters: Peter, Sylar
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Words: 1,400
Setting: The Wall
Summary: Peter and Sylar tease each other a little bit as they build towards more.
Notes: Portions of this chapter were originally published as a Bricks entry which was removed from publication more than six months ago.
Peter slid his hand along Sylar's smooth, bare back, well under the water and just a few inches above the waistline of his swimming trunks. He caught how the guy stiffened and looked back at him. That look on his face! It was lustful and desirous and frustrated all at once. Peter loved how much Sylar wanted him; he had complete power to satisfy (or not) the need that was writ so clear on Sylar's face. It was intoxicating, but he wasn't ready to do any more than tease at the moment. He danced out of range, kicking away and diving under a floating partition to enter one of the marked lanes. He emerged, shook his head briefly to throw off the water, and saw Sylar giving him a much more penetrating look, waiting for the least sign that Peter wanted him to respond. Peter smiled at him with lazy ease and gave no such indication - not yet, at least. "I'm going to do a few laps," Peter told him, pushing off from the wall and starting a backstroke.
They'd been playing at this for quite a while now, circling one another like two stars caught up in one another's gravity wells, getting closer despite the frequent flare-ups. To say that Sylar had a lot of rough edges was an understatement. He wasn't easy to get along with on the best of days - poorly socialized, deeply introverted, reflexively suspicious, and due to the aforementioned, he was also prone to explosions of violence. In short, he was an asshole and that had everything to do with why Peter wasn't interested in giving Sylar what he wanted.
Sylar did have some things going for him. He was hot. He was desperate. He was the only one here and Peter had been a very, very long time without. Those were shallow reasons, but Peter acknowledged them. Knowing what was motivating him worked better than denying it. There were other reasons, too - very complicated other reasons that twisted things up so much that Peter had no idea what was right and wrong anymore. He and Sylar had a lot of shared history. For good or ill, Sylar was the custodian of Nathan's memories. Sylar wanted redemption and in a very real way, Peter was the only person who could give it to him. Being needed so badly did all kinds of good things to Peter's heart.
At the moment, he needed a little alone time to cool down and get his head straight. Various nether parts were really happy with the idea of flirting with the man he'd been spending so much time with recently, a man who had made it clear there was a standing invitation for more, whenever Peter wanted it. Sylar wanted to rush things - to climb on top of him and fuck him into oblivion, according to Sylar's own words. Given that Peter had confessed to only the existence of attraction to Sylar at that point, Sylar's over-sharing declaration had came off threatening and off-putting. Bottoming was not something he was going to do with someone who disrespected him so routinely. But Peter couldn't stop playing with the fire. Someone that scorching hot wanted him that much and was so bald about his desire? Oh yeah. There was no way Peter was going to walk away from that without trying to arrange it in a way he could handle.
They hadn't talked very much about anything sexual and Peter had no idea how to go about that. He was tongue-tied and intimidated about the subject when facing Sylar. There was too much pressure, too much at stake, too much on the line. Which he figured had a lot to do with Sylar's misstep in saying too much. Maybe if we just make out a little at first? Peter wondered as he swam, trying in vain to keep his thoughts on the issue and away from too-explicit imaginings of how they might act them out. We could kiss, do some petting. That would be safe, right? He didn't want to go too far. He didn't want to be in Sylar's power, or under him, or controlled by him. The idea scared him. Conversely, the idea of finally turning the tables and having Sylar at his beck and call? It made him hard every time he thought of it.
Peter was resting for a moment at the end of the pool when Sylar pulled himself out of the water, exiting much more gracefully than he'd entered. Long, lean lines of lovely limbs shed water like something out of a television commercial. Peter stared, his less-than-polite ogling enabled by Sylar facing away. Then the man stretched, turning a little so Peter could see a sleek profile of flat stomach, furred chest, and rounded shoulders. He could make out the mostly shuttered eyes. Oh yes, Sylar was deliberately putting on a show. Peter blushed, grinned, and made a head gesture like he was going to look away, but he did anything but. When the display became more obvious, Peter shook his head and started another lap, trying the breaststroke this time. He didn't want to respond too obviously, or let Sylar know how affected he was.
A few minutes later, Peter swam up to the edge and lifted himself, his head popping over the lip of the pool. Elbows out, forearms flat against the floor, one hand was stacked over the other with his chin resting on top. Or at least, appearing to rest on top. It was a difficult pose to maintain as he was too high out of the water to take advantage of buoyancy, but he had the upper body strength to manage it for the moment. There was a hell of a lot of posturing going on between them and they were both well aware of it.
He looked at Sylar hungrily where he was reclined in one of the pool chairs. He'd dried off, hanging his neatly folded towel over the back of his chair, with a fresh one sitting on a second chair pulled up closer to his own than friends usually did. Sylar was leaning back, one leg slightly crooked and his head lolled to one side. There was plenty of light in here, but not enough sun to truly sunbathe. Sylar didn't have a book or magazine and he was too far away from the water to easily and directly ogle Peter when he was swimming. He noticed the scrutiny, though, opening his mostly shut eyes to raise a brow in silent question.
"Are you waiting on me?" Peter asked, his voice pitching a bit higher than it should have. He blamed his position. It couldn't possibly be anticipation, could it?
"For as long as I have to," Sylar answered, his face a mix of soft yearning and steely determination. How much he wanted Peter was so clear, so delicious, so thrilling. Peter shut his eyes for a moment, letting a shiver pass through him unimpeded. He knew he was going to satisfy the need they both felt burning inside of them. It was all a matter of when. But not quite yet. Peter found himself enjoying the tension between them, playing with it, teasing, and getting away with it. With a blushing grin, Peter pushed off from the edge. "Just a couple more laps," he called out, knowing he couldn't keep himself away any longer than that.