Musings from the Ambiguous Zone

 
Title: Rescue Me, Dream Interlude 3 (between chapters 3 and 4)
Author: dancingdragon3
Pairing: Peter/Sylar
Rating: NC-17
Genre: smut
Length: 3000 words
Summary: After the stress of meeting up with Peter's family at Coyote Sands, Sylar arranges a private dream rendezvous for them.
Disclaimer: The show Heroes and it’s characters are the property of NBC and Tim Kring. No rights infringement intended.
Notes: This is the first part of dream three. I wanted to have a posting in time for the holidays and to say that Rescue Me is back up and I am in the process of finishing it. Thanks to everyone who has been waiting patiently for the conclusion. It is finally about to pay off. Cheers!

This has now been beta'd by adahleida 

Masterlist for Rescue Me

previous part



The desert was beautiful in the morning. The sun had cleared the horizon, throwing brilliant pink and yellow highlights across wispy clouds in every direction. Even the ground had a golden glow, unlike its usual barren brown. The wind ruffled the hair at Peter's temple as he turned in place admiring the view. The mountains formed a painted iron and sulpher ring around the desert, reflecting the sun's light and matching its hue.

Hearing a cry, Peter looked up to see an eagle flying high above. He watched as it soared and circled, both thrilled and filled with envy by its flight.

“Hello Peter.”

The low voice tickled Peter’s ear, causing a shiver. He turned, expecting his nemesis to be right behind him, but the man was standing several feet away, and he looked... different. He seemed to be standing taller, straighter, yet more relaxed at the same time. Peter catalogued the differences as he walked over to him.

Sylar was clean shaven and his hair was in perfect place, swept back from his forehead. He was wearing a black dress shirt neatly tucked into equally dressy black pants. Instead of military issue boots, he was wearing loafers.

Peter smirked. They looked like something his mother would pick out as a Christmas present for the "wealthy, eligible, young gay man in your family".

As he got closer, Peter could see a necklace around the other man’s neck. When he was near enough, he reached up and moved the collar of Sylar's shirt aside to get a better look. The chain was gold as was the pendant nestled in the hollow of the taller man's throat. It was that symbol that Rene wore, the one from his father's law firm, and from Adam's - Hiro's sword.

Peter was starting to get a little confused when he noticed something that solidified the emotion. Sylar's thick straight hair wasn't just swept back from his face, it was long and pulled into a ponytail in back.

The man in question, still standing calm and silent as you please with his hands in his pockets, merely raised an eyebrow at Peter's expression.

Leaving the hair alone for the moment, Peter ran his hand over a strong shoulder instead, fingering the cloth that was softer than any he’d ever felt. The darkness of it seemed to soak up all the surrounding light, like a black hole. His hand drifted down a firm chest muscle encased in the midnight silk. He thought that if he pressed just right, the darkness might soak up his hand too...

Peter blinked, feeling like he had just woken up. He stepped back, trying to get his bearings.

Sylar watched him with a small smile hovering near his mouth.

“This is a dream, right? Your dream?” Peter finally asked.

Sylar nodded, expression now bordering on smug.

“And you changed your clothes?” Peter was missing something. Something about changing clothes... And just like that he remembered - everything.

Sylar’s smile became full blown as he watched recognition spread across Peter's face.

"Oh. My. God. We..." Peter blinked several times. "That first night in Pennsylvania, and... before that even... we've been... we've been... oh my god."

Peter closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands as the memories assaulted him. So many memories of the two of them... sharing dreams... fighting... fucking. Over and over again, for years, each time like it was the first.

"You are unbelievable!" Peter yelled, shoving Sylar who was chuckling now while reaching out to him.

"Hey hey! I am just an innocent bystander here." Sylar protested, holding his hands in the air.

"Innocent my ass! We've been sharing dreams and... and other things for years! How is that not your fault?"

"Well, in my defense I think the first time was you." Sylar put his hands back into his pants pockets, the smug grin worming its way back onto his face.

"How do you figure that?"

"One, we were in your cell, not mine. Two, I was drugged while you were merely sleeping. Three, I was injured and you were presumably all healed. Four, back then you seemed to spontaneously use your most recently acquired power..."

"You know what, it doesn't matter. What does is that we've been having sex and doing other unspeakable things for years, unknowingly in our sleep."

"Apparently." Sylar shrugged.

"Is that all you have to say?" Peter was infuriated by Sylar's blase attitude.

"Babe, I just found out that I have forgotten the first 6 years of my life including yet another set of parents and sharing dreams with your mother. This is just par for the course at this point. Oh, and Peter," Sylar stepped closer and leaned in.

Peter braced himself.

"Without your memories, you are so nasty."

Peter met Sylar's wicked grin with a shake of his head and a sigh.

"We are not talking about any of that any time soon," he said with a firm look. Some of their dreams he wasn't ready to re-live in detail just yet, if ever. Especially the ones from when he was in Ireland. Which was also more proof that he was just as guilty of instigating this as Sylar was, he realized, remembering that the other man was sans abilities at the time.

It would seem that their subconscious minds had been very busy with one another for a while now. What that said about them, given what they were doing in real life was something else Peter didn't want to examine just yet. Instead, he turned his attention to the cabins in the distance. Upon closer inspection he realized that they looked more like a village than a run down camp. There were several two and even three story buildings. He saw a few were made of brick. There was a huge greenhouse, and... Is that a...?

"Why the hell is there a Ferris wheel in Coyote Sands?" Peter asked wearily.

"I do not know," Sylar said, shaking his head. "I did not put that there."

"Well, while we're playing 'what doesn't belong in this picture', what's with the necklace?" Peter touched it again.

A puzzled expression appeared on Sylar's face as he groped blindly at his neck.

"A what? I didn't... I don't wear jewelry." He twisted his head this way and that, but the chain was too short for him to see the pendant. He traced his fingers over it. "I can't see. What is it, a snake?"

"No, it's a..." Peter couldn't remember what it was called. He thought Hiro or maybe his mom had told him once but... Suddenly an idea came to him.

"You know what I think might be happening here," he said, gesturing to the camp. "I think Isaac's ability, or my mom's is blending with this one somehow. I think we're getting glimpses of the future."

Sylar frowned and dropped the necklace. "You know what? I don't care." He grabbed Peter in his arms and lowered his mouth to take the other man's in a scorching kiss. One hand came up to hold Peter's head as Sylar worked his mouth open, his tongue delving in and out of the softness.

"Right now," Sylar continued when he let Peter up for air, "I am only interested in the present where I have decided that it's time for a vacation."

"A vacation?" Peter asked breathlessly.

"Yes, and the only question I need answered from you is 'beach or mountain'?"

It took Peter a moment to follow his lover's intention but only another for him to come up with his answer. He grinned slyly.

"River, waterfall, rainforest," was the succinct and contrary reply.

Sylar snorted and closed his eyes.

After another moment, the scenery rippled around them, blurring, then clearing and focusing again until they were standing beside a naturally formed pool at the base of what had to be a fifty foot waterfall. Beyond them the pool became a gently moving river. Peter could see it flowing over rocks farther down.

"Gabriel, this is... breathtaking," he said with awe and a little disbelief. Leaving their embrace, he turned around to take it all in.

On either side of the narrow river was a grassy clearing that gave way to impossibly tall, moss-covered trees. Looking into the jungle all he could see was the green of tropical foliage blooming with brightly coloured flowers. Near them a steep rock covered path wound up the cliff forming the waterfall. The sky above was bright blue and the air was filled with birdsong and the sound of rushing water.

Peter had never seen anything like it. It looked real, but... more than real, better than real. Perfect, and wild. He marveled that such a picture of life could be made by someone that gloried in death.

"What can I say? I like to rise to a challenge," Sylar said.

"Uh uh." Peter, suspicious, glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "Or is this an actual place you remember from when you escaped the Mexican facility?"

"I knew it. You little liar!" Sylar grabbed him again. "You did read my file, didn't you?"

"What do you think?" It was Peter's turn to look smug.

"I think you're a menace. And no, this is not a place I've seen before, asshole. I do have an imagination, you know." He nuzzled into the long neck covered in the softest white skin, nipping at it lightly with his teeth.

"I don't think you truly appreciate all my talents, Peter," Sylar murmured. "Now how do you think that makes me feel?"

"Hmmm, itchy?" Peter responded in an innocent tone, running his hands down to Sylar's ass and squeezing.

Sylar pulled back with a look of astonishment. Their eyes met and silent exchanges of audacity, humour, and revenge were made. Then Sylar smiled, glanced behind Peter's back, and pushed him hard, right off his feet.

"Hey!" Peter flung his arms out but his panic was short-lived as he landed on something soft. A mattress, covered in white silk. He was immediately pounced upon.

"Did you think I would take you on the ground?" Sylar fitted one leg between Peter's and re-attached his mouth to the smaller man's neck.

"I never know what to expect from you." Peter moaned, pleasantly surprised by the turn of events. He wrapped his arms and legs around the big gangly body on top of him.

"Then how about this?" Sylar asked, flipping them over. "Ride me?"

Until then, Peter had honestly not noticed that they were naked. The smile that crossed his face was as wicked as any that the killer had ever worn.

I bet he still doesn't realize he's wearing a ponytail, he thought.

Deciding to keep that tidbit of information secret for now, Peter thought of another way to goad his lover. Kneeling over and distracting him with a kiss, Peter pushed the supine man's hands up the bed for the vines he had imagined to imprison his wrists. Similar ones grew out of the ground near the foot of the iron sleigh bed's frame to encircle the killer's ankles as well.

"Peter, do I look like someone who enjoys being tied down?" Sylar asked in a bored tone.

He pulled surreptitiously against the smooth vines around his wrists. They slithered and pulled back, binding his hands tighter together. The ones around his ankles had more give, but not enough for him to bend his knees. He could only shift his legs a little, as they lay about a foot apart.

"Not really, but I sure do like seeing you this way." Peter began fingering his own cock from where he sat astride the larger man.

"You are one kinky son of a bitch, Peter Petrelli."

"And you love it."

"Yes, I do. So come on. I assume this is where you torture me until I'm begging to come right?"

"That was the idea."

"Then get on with it before I change my mind about this little scene of yours," Sylar demanded.

Peter grinned and held up a bottle of lube before turning around to give Sylar a good view of him prepping himself.

He didn't need any abilities to tell him the precise moment that the killer's eyes bulged out. He knew Sylar had a thing about his ass, so he took his time sliding his fingers in and out, slowly loosening the muscle as he flexed and stretched his back to put it all on display.

Peter ended up only using two fingers to get ready. He wanted to be nice and tight. He planned to really draw this out. He wanted to feel every inch of Sylar's dick the first time it went in, and for him to feel every inch of Peter in return.

A short while later, they did.

Sylar felt so good inside him. His ass burned where the shaft entered his body but deep inside, tingles and pulses of liquid pleasure were being created where the big cockhead massaged against his prostate.

Peter stroked himself, gripping and working his dick. He had never been harder. He leaned further back and rotated his hips in a few slow semi-circles, each one aimed at giving him the most sensation. His whole body was tingling now, even his toes. He pinched one of his own nipples, once and then again harder. It felt so good he let go of his erection and abused both nipples until they were red and swollen.

Peter threw his head back and moaned. He could feel his dick throbbing, bouncing up and down in time with his heart beat. He rotated his hips again, nudging suddenly and violently against Sylar's erection, so hard and hot inside him. Like iron. Like iron and fire and silk and black and death and life all inside him. Killing him, and making him feel like living and coming all at the same time.

"Christ, Peter. Jesus."

Sylar was on fire with denied passion. Peter was enacting a fucking masturbation porno on top of him and all he could do was watch and squirm in pain, his dick encased in Peter's tight, tight ass, but not. moving. enough. at. all.

"Fuck! Peter, move faster, goddamit! And with more consistency! There is someone dying underneath you here. Baby, please have some mercy on me." Sylar yanked in frustration against the apparently unbreakable, vegetable ropes around his arms.

Stupid empathic mimicry, Sylar thought.

"Did you just call me 'baby'?" Peter stopped his self-pleasuring and looked down at his lover in amusement.

"I hate you, but if it will get you to fucking stop torturing me and move or touch me or something, I'll call you whatever the hell you fucking want. Please baby, I give. You win, just please do something!" Sylar demanded, his tone going from angry to pleading.

"Hmmm, I like that." Peter leaned down and licked sloppily at Sylar's ear. "Come on. Talk dirty to me, killer. Tell me how hot you are for me." He bit at the lobe as he clenched around the hard shaft inside him.

"Christ, Peter! Urrrgggghhh. Baby, oooh, oh god, I swear... oh I feel like I'm on fire. I want to come inside you so bad... I think I'm gonna die from it. You..." Sylar closed his eyes and swallowed, trying to focus on being articulate.

"God you, you are so sexy," he continued in a lust and pain filled approximation of his gravel tone.

"I feel like you've scarred my retinas with your body. Your eyes. Your... perfect skin. It's so smooth, so soft. It's so soft inside you." He pulsed his hips as much as his living bonds would allow.

"You make me so hard I want to fuck you forever. Peter..." His voice was a whisper now, filled with longing. He pulled reflexively against his bindings.

"Be inside you forever. Your ass is so tight around me, holding me... holding me so tight, it's like it's molded itself to my cock. Like it was made for me. What?" Sylar had opened his eyes to find Peter staring down at him with a look of incredulity.

"That was fucking hot," Peter said, shaking his head. "Jesus babe, I said talk dirty to me not compose a Shakespearean sonnet. You have seriously hidden depths." He leaned back and the vines holding Sylar's arms and legs disappeared.

"So fuck me already," Peter finished with a cheeky smile.

Sylar's hips pistoned up before Peter had completed his order. Hands were at his waist a second later. Peter was forcibly reminded of Sylar's height and strength advantage when he found himself being held up in place as Sylar moved into him at a vicious pace, hitting rock bottom with every powerful thrust. Peter braced his hands on Sylar's chest and spread his legs as wide as he could.

The burning was more intense now, and Peter welcomed it. He wanted it to hurt. He wanted to feel it. Loved that he could reduce such an obsessively controlling man to this. Loved that he was the only one to truly know this side of him.

Sylar fucked like an animal and Peter reveled in it. It was wild and crazy, but it made him feel so... free. He had never felt such freedom. Never been so honest. He was playing with fire and he knew it. But he had to. He had to. His name was being chanted now.

Close, so close.

God, to feel this passion, hear his name as a prayer, to get burned by this kind of fire...

And then it exploded inside him, overtaking his body in waves tinged with pleasure and pain. All Peter could do was hold on as the world spun out of focus.


next part

Chapter 4 Nathan... coming soon