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heroslayer(Melissa is ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
capturedworlds and is used at their request. Based on this picture.)
When they'd gotten to the hotel room, Melissa had muttered something about needing a shower, grabbed a few things her bag before dropping it in its usual place by their bed and made a beeline for the bathroom. He couldn't say it was a lie, the both of them covered in dirt from where they'd collapsed in the parking lot of the diner, and it hadn't tripped his ability to feel when someone was making things up, but he didn't quite buy her line, anyway. She wanted to escape for a bit--he couldn't blame her, as he did, too--and the shower was the only real out either of them had, anymore. So he'd let her go.
Sighing, he collapsed on the bed they wouldn't end up sharing, not really caring if he destroyed it with road grime, and toed off his boots before stretching out. He laid there for a moment, staring up at the ceiling numbly, too--too something--to be bothered with trying to count the tiles, and then he was turning his head into the pillow. His eyes falling closed, he bit down on his lower lip to stifle the urge to scream, then as it passed, he was sucking in a slow breath through his teeth, letting it out just as slowly. In and out, over and over again, as he tried to remember how to breathe like a sane person, rather than the short, shallow attempts at air that had been all he'd managed since they'd left the diner. Then, once he was sure he had mastery over something as simple as breathing again, he pulled his head out of the pillow to eye the ceiling uselessly, again.
To his credit, he managed to stave off feeling like peeling off his skin would resolve all his issues for all of thirty seconds.
Another sigh, this one frustrated, and he was up from the bed, moving around the room in idle circles, as if the pacing would help, somehow. It didn't, though it did end him near the bathroom door when he realized it would do nothing for the swirl of pain and rage he was trying to keep under wraps, and he could almost swear, above the sound of the water, he could hear someone sobbing. And that, thankfully, was enough to get his mind off his own issues for more than an instant or two.
Head tilted to one side, he stared at the closed door for a moment before pushing inside. He hesitated for a moment, back pressing against the door as it closed behind him silently, and then he was reaching for the buttons of his shirt. Seconds later it was off of him, forgotten on the floor along with her clothing, his pants and boxers following suit shortly thereafter. A hand raised to nudge the curtain of the shower aside almost delicately, and then he was stepping into the shower alongside her.
She didn't turn to face him, didn't even register that he'd gotten into the shower with him. Instead, she simply continue to lean into the wall, one arm propped up on it for support, her face buried in it, hiding her eyes. He still couldn't tell if she'd been crying or was still, or if he'd been imaging things, the ghosts of the past still clinging to him, but that didn't stop him from wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her back into him. She straightened a bit, briefly--she really hadn't heard him come in--and then she was leaning back into him with a sigh, her arm falling away from the wall to rest over one of his.
He fanned his hand out of her stomach, letting her fingers fall into the spaces between his, and squeezed gently. Reassurance for the both of them, despite the fact that he had sworn up and down on the car ride back that he was fine, even if she hadn't really asked, too lost in the echo of his history to bother more than a few times if she really ever had at all. He wasn't sure, just as he still couldn't say if she'd been crying, but it didn't matter. Neither of them were fine, both of them terrible liars. At least touching her seemed to help them both.
Biting back yet another sigh, he lowered his head to her shoulder, resting his chin there with his eyes closed, and then he was turning his head to brush a kiss over her cheek. She followed as he turned away, lips catching his almost pleadingly, as she shifted in his arms to face him. They both sighed this time, the sound one of relief rather than pain now, and he couldn't help but wonder if she was still tied to him emotionally, but the thought was quick to vanish as she draped her arms over his shoulders, pulling him close.
Her fingers lingered at his back for a moment, and then she was dragging them along to his side, fitting them between his ribs, lightly. He couldn't help but moan, breaking the kiss so that he could twist into her hand forgetting how to breathe for entirely different reasons, and then he was looking down at her. She said nothing--she didn't have to--and then he was darting back in to kiss her again, fingers wandering down over shower-slicked skin to cup at her breast.
She leaned into him, echoing the moan, the hand at his side moving to his hair abruptly, tangling there, trying to tug him closer and he was happy to oblige leaning into her and further, backing her against the tile of the wall slowly. He held there for a moment, chest pressed to hers, his hand trapped between them, and then he was pulling away just a bit so that he could drag his fingers over her nipple, coaxing her into arousal. Whining into his mouth, she nipped at his lower lip lightly, then tilted her head back a bit, her own lips parting under his, daring him to do something about it. And with a soft noise that was equal parts amused and approving he did so, pressing his tongue into her mouth, tracing the ridges along the roof before tangling his tongue with her in earnest.
Dropping his hand from her chest to her hip, he nudged her legs apart with his knee, before letting his fingers wander lower brushing over her with positive results. Another moan which he repeated as she arched against him, shoulders dug into the wall behind her for support as she ground her hips into his, and then was forcing one of her legs up around his waist. She moved the other without much guiding, the wall and his arms her support as she wrapped herself around him, and once she was settled, shivering a bit against the cold of the tile, he pushed into her without much warning. She didn't seem to mind, however, both of them needing the connection far too much to be bothered spending time on foreplay, breaking the kiss to rest her chin on his shoulder.
He turned his head into her ear, murmuring something wordless as he thrust into her, and she hummed acceptingly, the sound already breathless, then they were moving together in silence. Sooner than both of them usually managed, they were breaking together, her tightening around him with a cry, him echoing it a moment later as he spilled into her. They lapsed back into silence after that, their arms tight around one another, the only sound that of their breathing and the fall of the water from a shower that had long since gone cold. And there in her embrace and the afterglow, he realized why they had both gone at it with such fervor in the wake of the horrors they had seen that day.
Like this, they could forget who they were for a moment.
Muse: Gabriel Gray (Sylar)
Fandom: Heroes
Word Count: 1325
capturedworlds and is used at their request. Based on this picture.)When they'd gotten to the hotel room, Melissa had muttered something about needing a shower, grabbed a few things her bag before dropping it in its usual place by their bed and made a beeline for the bathroom. He couldn't say it was a lie, the both of them covered in dirt from where they'd collapsed in the parking lot of the diner, and it hadn't tripped his ability to feel when someone was making things up, but he didn't quite buy her line, anyway. She wanted to escape for a bit--he couldn't blame her, as he did, too--and the shower was the only real out either of them had, anymore. So he'd let her go.
Sighing, he collapsed on the bed they wouldn't end up sharing, not really caring if he destroyed it with road grime, and toed off his boots before stretching out. He laid there for a moment, staring up at the ceiling numbly, too--too something--to be bothered with trying to count the tiles, and then he was turning his head into the pillow. His eyes falling closed, he bit down on his lower lip to stifle the urge to scream, then as it passed, he was sucking in a slow breath through his teeth, letting it out just as slowly. In and out, over and over again, as he tried to remember how to breathe like a sane person, rather than the short, shallow attempts at air that had been all he'd managed since they'd left the diner. Then, once he was sure he had mastery over something as simple as breathing again, he pulled his head out of the pillow to eye the ceiling uselessly, again.
To his credit, he managed to stave off feeling like peeling off his skin would resolve all his issues for all of thirty seconds.
Another sigh, this one frustrated, and he was up from the bed, moving around the room in idle circles, as if the pacing would help, somehow. It didn't, though it did end him near the bathroom door when he realized it would do nothing for the swirl of pain and rage he was trying to keep under wraps, and he could almost swear, above the sound of the water, he could hear someone sobbing. And that, thankfully, was enough to get his mind off his own issues for more than an instant or two.
Head tilted to one side, he stared at the closed door for a moment before pushing inside. He hesitated for a moment, back pressing against the door as it closed behind him silently, and then he was reaching for the buttons of his shirt. Seconds later it was off of him, forgotten on the floor along with her clothing, his pants and boxers following suit shortly thereafter. A hand raised to nudge the curtain of the shower aside almost delicately, and then he was stepping into the shower alongside her.
She didn't turn to face him, didn't even register that he'd gotten into the shower with him. Instead, she simply continue to lean into the wall, one arm propped up on it for support, her face buried in it, hiding her eyes. He still couldn't tell if she'd been crying or was still, or if he'd been imaging things, the ghosts of the past still clinging to him, but that didn't stop him from wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her back into him. She straightened a bit, briefly--she really hadn't heard him come in--and then she was leaning back into him with a sigh, her arm falling away from the wall to rest over one of his.
He fanned his hand out of her stomach, letting her fingers fall into the spaces between his, and squeezed gently. Reassurance for the both of them, despite the fact that he had sworn up and down on the car ride back that he was fine, even if she hadn't really asked, too lost in the echo of his history to bother more than a few times if she really ever had at all. He wasn't sure, just as he still couldn't say if she'd been crying, but it didn't matter. Neither of them were fine, both of them terrible liars. At least touching her seemed to help them both.
Biting back yet another sigh, he lowered his head to her shoulder, resting his chin there with his eyes closed, and then he was turning his head to brush a kiss over her cheek. She followed as he turned away, lips catching his almost pleadingly, as she shifted in his arms to face him. They both sighed this time, the sound one of relief rather than pain now, and he couldn't help but wonder if she was still tied to him emotionally, but the thought was quick to vanish as she draped her arms over his shoulders, pulling him close.
Her fingers lingered at his back for a moment, and then she was dragging them along to his side, fitting them between his ribs, lightly. He couldn't help but moan, breaking the kiss so that he could twist into her hand forgetting how to breathe for entirely different reasons, and then he was looking down at her. She said nothing--she didn't have to--and then he was darting back in to kiss her again, fingers wandering down over shower-slicked skin to cup at her breast.
She leaned into him, echoing the moan, the hand at his side moving to his hair abruptly, tangling there, trying to tug him closer and he was happy to oblige leaning into her and further, backing her against the tile of the wall slowly. He held there for a moment, chest pressed to hers, his hand trapped between them, and then he was pulling away just a bit so that he could drag his fingers over her nipple, coaxing her into arousal. Whining into his mouth, she nipped at his lower lip lightly, then tilted her head back a bit, her own lips parting under his, daring him to do something about it. And with a soft noise that was equal parts amused and approving he did so, pressing his tongue into her mouth, tracing the ridges along the roof before tangling his tongue with her in earnest.
Dropping his hand from her chest to her hip, he nudged her legs apart with his knee, before letting his fingers wander lower brushing over her with positive results. Another moan which he repeated as she arched against him, shoulders dug into the wall behind her for support as she ground her hips into his, and then was forcing one of her legs up around his waist. She moved the other without much guiding, the wall and his arms her support as she wrapped herself around him, and once she was settled, shivering a bit against the cold of the tile, he pushed into her without much warning. She didn't seem to mind, however, both of them needing the connection far too much to be bothered spending time on foreplay, breaking the kiss to rest her chin on his shoulder.
He turned his head into her ear, murmuring something wordless as he thrust into her, and she hummed acceptingly, the sound already breathless, then they were moving together in silence. Sooner than both of them usually managed, they were breaking together, her tightening around him with a cry, him echoing it a moment later as he spilled into her. They lapsed back into silence after that, their arms tight around one another, the only sound that of their breathing and the fall of the water from a shower that had long since gone cold. And there in her embrace and the afterglow, he realized why they had both gone at it with such fervor in the wake of the horrors they had seen that day.
Like this, they could forget who they were for a moment.
Muse: Gabriel Gray (Sylar)
Fandom: Heroes
Word Count: 1325
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Date: 2009-06-14 02:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-14 02:36 am (UTC)... which reminds me, I owe you tags on that. *headdesks*
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Date: 2009-06-14 02:39 am (UTC)You've had a rough week. There's no rush on tags. *loves*
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Date: 2009-06-14 02:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-14 02:45 am (UTC)