Petrelli Vs Carlisle...the Sequel

[chimeramimicry]

"Petrelli VS Carlisle -- The Sequel"
Who:  Peter Petrelli & Peter Carlisle (Blackpool)
When: Beginning of Season 1

Peter Petrelli was a burrower.  He liked to be warm, but not to be too close to someone in his sleep.  As such, he ended up under the covers, all the way at the very bottom of the bed.  He was just a little lump of happy snoring sounds, one arm hanging noteably off of the side of the bed somewhere near Carlisle's foot.

Without work in the morning, there was no alarm set.  He hadn't thought to ask the other Peter if he needed to be up or not and, in fact, even if he had, they'd been a little preoccupied to do much about it.

Now, stretching and fresh from dreams of time travel, Peter opened his eyes to gaze at a knee that belonged to a very hairy leg.  He wasn't sure what to make of that at first!

Comments

[carlislestyle.livejournal.com]

Carlisle didn't wake up for another few minutes, it wasn't until Peter fidgetted that Carlisle fidgetted. He jerked slightly, yawned and then rolled over.

Looking at Peter with a hazy expression, he wondered why the other man was so far down the damn bed. Why would someone even sleep like that?

As the night slowly flood back to him, he dragged his tired body upright and offered Peter a 'mrghhhs' instead of 'morning'.

Leaning over, he checked the time through tired eyes... before throwing himself out of bed.

"Christ! I'm 3 hours late for work!"

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

Peter had scooted back up against the pillows again when Carlisle jumped over him. Literally. He was still almost completely undressed, minus his underwear, and he watched the other man hobble around the room on his bad foot trying to get dressed.

He pulled up the covers to hide his chest -- he wasn't ashamed of himself, he found nothing awkward normally about being shirtless -- be but did remember what it was that they had been planning on doing just a few hours ago.

"No breakfast then?" he asked, not sure what else to say. He'd be working at the hospital tonight. And then they'd have two days.

Or less.

Peter hated the though.

[carlislestyle.livejournal.com]

Peter finished pulling on his shirt and blinked tiredly at the man in the bed, trying to see him through the haze of sleep. Oh, right, sex! They should be having it.

"Errr... right, when do you have a lunch break? Mines at 1, provided they don't take it from me for being late. We could meet back here. Or you know, tonight or during your break."

He didn't know if Peter knew he was planning the best time to have sex but he could really use some help.

Tugging on his trousers, he staggered around to find his jacket, unaware his shirt was buttoned wrong and the collar was sticking up at the back.

"I can't stay now, any later and I'll be fired then broke then I'll have to sell myself and deal crack to live. No one wants that!"

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

"I...um--" Peter wasn't assuming anything. He was just imagining that they'd meet up for a game or to go out. Peter did like having the other Peter as a friend. They could pretend that this never happened.

He could live with that. It'd be easier than having to feel guilty and alone when Peter left.

"I get off at ten. Second shift... If you want to meet here? Or--" Here seemed to be just fine. Carlisle rushed out of the apartment and Peter rolled over into the warm spot that smelled a little like chocolate and candy.

Peter found himself smiling.

Well. It had been nice no matter what.

[carlislestyle.livejournal.com]

"Ten it is! See you then!"

And with that, he ran all the way to work... only to be laughed at the minute he entered, Arriving with a wrong buttoned shirt and undone fly was not the best way to start the day.

Fortunately, it mostly went smoothly. He brought coffee to make up for his lateness and they delved into profiling the man they were after.

After a brief stake out and running around to find some informant, they finally got the information they needed.

"This is brilliant, with any luck we'll find Derek Colins by tomorrow afternoon, you'll be home sooner than you thought."

... Ah fuck!

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

For some reason, Peter kept expecting his friend...stalker...guy he make out with twice...to show up throughout his day. How he'd manage that while Peter was in pediatrics was a bit of a tossup. Maybe he'd come in with some stolen kid and--

Peter was grinning at the thought.

"So, tell us about this Scottish guy," Diane teased at lunch and after a lengthy battle of blushing and downplaying it, Peter finally cracked.

He had quite the crowd to listen to him gushing a bit.

It was hard to deny. He was smitten.

Rushing home after work, Peter took a shower, straightened up, and put on something to eat. Carlisle was a bottomless pit.

And he had no idea that he'd be going home any day now.

[carlislestyle.livejournal.com]

Finishing up with his meeting, they confirmed tomorrow for the bust, exchanged info and sent two unlucky blokes to stake out the premises all night. Provided he didn't get a call, this could be his last night.

Course he might have to stay a day to fill in some forms to send the bastard back but he didn't have much longer here.

And that frankly sucked.

He was really starting to love Peter Petrelli's company. One of his best friends. Sure he missed Britain, Blythe, his office... but he didn't miss the mess he'd left back there.

No wonder his doctor prescribed him some many meds, something went wrong and he became a bit of a wreck. Overly panicked, emotional, sulky and he even spent the rest of the day glaring at his boss.

Knocking back a nice mouthful of whatever he had at hand, he took off to Peters, determined to forget it all.

Knocking tentatively on Peters door, he stood outside with a small smile. Some lovely old lady let him in and it would be a nice surprise anyway.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

It was a nice surprise. Peter was fresh faced, newly shaved, and smelled like strawberry shampoo. There were cinnamon rolls in the oven, the sort that you pop out of a tin and shove onto a backing tray, already made. They were nearly done, smelling fresh and absolutely delicious as Peter let in the other man.

"Hey," he said, biting his lower lip as he always seemed to when Carlisle was close.

He had on a collared black shirt and some jeans, nothing amazing, but he could stay in like this, go out like this.

"How'd work go? Are you selling yourself yet?"

[carlislestyle.livejournal.com]

Peter didn't really do much for the occasion. Still unshaved, still in the same clothes, though he did have a mint flavoured lolly. He did have a tux with him but that would mean going all the way to his motel and wasting time.

He didn't answer the question, he just pulled Peter into a kiss and across the room they went, Carlisle tried to move them along while kissing but also not accidentally crashing into anything.

Breaking the kiss, he panted an eyed the bedroom with a small frown.

"So ... Do you have condoms? Or lube? We need that stuff right?"

There were no pauses, Carlisles coat was tossed on the floor and he was already tugging off his shoes.

So much for just friends.

[carlislestyle.livejournal.com]

All these years, monogamously straight and then this! This was just amazing. Weird? God yes. But also so mind blowing, his left eye actually twitched in surprise. Peter was very skilled with his hand. And mouth. God, he was just very skilled in general.

Peter moaned softly and rutted down against Peters palm, assuming this was the big part of the whole thing.

He didn't exactly expected the finger to slip in. He should of really but he still didn't. He sort of yelped awkwardly in an oddly high pitched tone, not in pain but surprise. It didn't exactly hurt, it was just ... weird.

"Warn a guy next time," Carlisle joked breathlessly, his fingers finding their way into Peters hair and offering it a small pet.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

"Doing it again," Peter mumbled, his lips making steady progress downward. He wasn't sure if he was ready for this, but fuck it. He was going to a place reserved for Catholic priests and pedofiles. All right, maybe he was making a big deal out of nothing, but damn his religion.

As Peter explored around with fingers probably thicker than Carlisle'd want him to have at the moment, Peter's teeth dipped into the softer flesh of his belly and his lips touched the ridge of his body hipbone. He sucked a mark into it before taking a breath.

It ended up not being so bad, going down on a man. Peter liked doing it well enough for women and this was about ten times less complicated than with a girl.

Suck. Nothing special to it.

[carlislestyle.livejournal.com]

It got more painful the more the fingers moved but he supposed it was one of those 'it always hurts first time' kind of things. Like when women say it hurt, perhaps it just smarted to have another bloke do this.

Still, as painful as it was having fingers inside him, he couldn't say he was having a bad time. Peter was skilled and the way his lips move left Carlisle with a clouded and dopey smile on his face. enjoying the weird mix of pain and bliss.

He even rolled his hips to try and draw more attention to himself.

Part of him was very eager to show Peter what he could do, he was told that he was very skilled with his mouth and he kind of wanted to show off the benefits of spending most your day sucking lollies.

After this, he promised himself, when they next had the time and effort for it.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

It was unfortunate that tonight might be in. Culprit caught tomorrow and plane back to Scotland after dinner. Peter didn't know that now. Thankfully. It would have made him a little too sad.

Gag reflex in place, Peter just sucked a bit on what he could manage. He wasn't just shoving fingers in either, he was messaging the taunt flesh around in little circles. If a jab was too painful, he cooled it, rubbed a little more, or sucked harder. He had a good way of knowing just what the thresthold was for this sort of thing.

He wanted Peter to come first. It would loosen him up and guarantee a finish. He wasn't sure about his own performance.

[carlislestyle.livejournal.com]

Carlisle moan and arched his hips up, his hands stroke through Peters hair almost lovingly. They were exactly in love, were they? He couldn't work out if this was a fit of passion, love or just a very strong connection between two lonely people.

Either way, he loved it.

The way Peter's tongue massaged his flesh was amazing, any uncomfortable feelings or pain from the intruding digits was forgotten almost as soon as it started.

It wouldn't take him long now, he was making small noises of pleasure and rocking back against Peters fingers. Doing all this was surprisingly fulfilling.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

It dawned on him that despite how willing he was to pleasure the Scottsman -- and holy Christ, he sounded amazing moaning for him like that -- Peter certainly didn't want to deal with any fluids. It wasn't safe. They hadn't gone through medical histories or past lovers and being left with rashes around his mouth, or God forbid, a life threatening disease, was not what he wanted to remember the other Peter by.

Luckily, the spray of errant affection caught his chest and shoulder and a bit of his neck. It could be wiped off later. Leaning up, Peter kissed the lips he spent two days watching, hard as hell against Carlisle's thigh, but giving him the moment he might need to relax.

[carlislestyle.livejournal.com]

He'd been lost so far in the moment that he actually assumed that was it, fingers and Peters very skill tongue. To suddenly have Peters erection prod his thigh was one hell of a wake up call. Well, he couldn't leave Peter hard and waiting, he had to do it sometime.

Looking up at Peter, he spread his legs further, trying to indicate that he was actually find with it. Even if he was less so.

He just had to lie back and try not to let it all get under his skin. It was just like any other lay only he might have to push past the pain. Nothing easy was ever worth having so he supposed it was a good thing.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

Peter was like a child, all wet and open mouthed kisses and tiny groans and a delicate sense of care that either came from a child had so far after his brother, or whatever it was that possessed him to become a nurse. It wasn't simple passion, but compassion that made what ought to have been an awkward, indelicate act like this into something else.

Panting as he filled his lover in ways he never thought he might, Peter moaned sweetly against Carlisle's neck. His fingers constantly messaged thighs or ribs. He was slow, savoring the feeling of tight heat, letting Carlisle get use to him.

He didn't need to ask where to go. He simply knew the proper rhythm, the perfect angle, and the speed the other Peter wanted before he knew he wanted it.

"God...this feels..." Peter wasn't sure what to say, just that he needed to say it.

[carlislestyle.livejournal.com]

"I think I'm too tired to sleep... and thats never a good sign," Peter joked, laughing softly as Peter came to join him. This could be their last day ... or more night. He didn't care about food for once, he just wanted to enjoy himself.

The very thought of going home made him feel ill, going home when he was still in the middle of a frankly brutal divorce and a pathetic little apartment covered in case files he had yet to finish.

He felt so much more comfortable beside Peter. So much so that he hoped he could stay here all tomorrow.

Would it be so bad to miss a operation he was sent here to advise over?

... Probably. Damn.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

Peter woke alone in a bed that had been empty for three years until the past two nights. He stared at the ruffled bedsheets with nothing but a smile on his face. It was strange, it was, to know in his head that he might not see the Scotsman again but still be certain that he would see him today. He even knew the particular time.

The place.

It was perfect. His dream had been vivid, from the smell of the alley to the taste of the air to the varying shades of color on the bricks.

Peter pulled himself out of bed and blinked, looking at his feet. His eyes lit up and he rushed to get showered and dressed.

Today had to be over quickly. He needed three fifteen to arrive sooner rather than later.

He texted the other Peter with a time and a place just after two. Just after he finished wrapping up his case. 'It's urgent. Come quickly.'

[carlislestyle.livejournal.com]

The bust had been horrible, guns firing off, everyone fighting. Sure they caught the bastard but half his squad was injured and his bad foot was in agony. Frankly, he was just ready to go home now. He still had to help build up the case and collect evidence for when he brought it back home.

He checked his phone during his lunch break and raised an eyebrow. Urgent. Seriously?

He had work!

So he was a slacker most the time, finished up early almost every day and spent most his time stalking Peter instead of actually filling in his paperwork. That didn't mean he could go running around after him, he really had to get everything processed. He had till 6pm or he'd be in serious trouble.

With a sigh, he reluctantly texted back. "Alright. Coming."

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

This was it. The angle of it, the way that part of a building was clipped from his view by the glare, everything was right. Peter stood on the ledge of a fifteen story building, toes peeking over the edge when he heard Carlisle's taxi pull up.

Peter closed his eyes. The door opened. There was the faint sound of Peter's laugh and a softly rolling 'r' below him. He bit his lower lip. Excited. Nervous.

He dialed Peter's number and waited for him to pick up.

"Hey. Look up."

[carlislestyle.livejournal.com]

Seriously? What the hell?

Peter sighed in annoyance and peered around. What on Earth was he playing at? He really needed to get his work finished up. "Peter! I don't have time for this. I said work all day. I'm not a nurse, there's no canteen for you to wait in!"

Course he had no idea where Peter was so he was essentially talking to thin air.

Opening his phone, he followed direction, looked up and--

"CHRIST!"

Dropping his phone, he stared up at Peter in horror. Oooh great! He slept with a suicidal nutcase! He was going to off himself and probably try to crush him in some sort of murder suicide deal.

"Peter! This isn't funny. Get down from there, understood? I will... I-I... I'll arrest you!"

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

"I need to--" Peter glanced at the phone he was still talking into. He'd heard Carlisle drop his own phone, so that wouldn't do. He peered over the edge instead. "I need to show you something!" he yelled instead, grinning widely. "I had this dream. It was just like this...you were even tugging on your hair like that!"

He laughed, and it picked up in between the buildings, echoing lightly. Yep. The right sound. It was almost time.

Almost.

There was a honking horn two blocks away and Peter grinned. Yep. That was the signal.

"Watch!" he yelled, and then jumped.

[carlislestyle.livejournal.com]

"Get down! You're not funny! I will book you in for wasting a police officers time-- nooooo! No, no, no, no! Do not jump!"

Ok, so he was freaking out, he was allowed to freak. He was allowed to hop around and tug aggressively at his hair.

Cause well, Peter was trying to kill himself and--

He jumped. Peters eyes couldn't be wider as he froze in horror. Sure, he'd seen suicidal people, talked people down from roofs and even seen them leap off.

He just never thought he'd see Peter willingly throwing himself off.

He was pretty sure his heart stopped.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

It wasn't working. Every second had slowed, the wind wasn't pushing him up. He was falling and not flying. This wasn't the dream. Peter ought to have been gasping in amazement.

Oh God. Oh God, he was going to die. This was God's punishment for sleeping with another man. For polluting himself!

Peter's arms and legs flailed about, trying to push him upwards but--

He never hit the ground. Oh, he screwed his eyes up, but he hadn't hit. Instead, he blinked down inches from Peter, floating just about him. They locked eyes. "Oh," he said softly, the guy in the wind tunnel practicing free falling, and then the magic gave way he and did end up falling on Peter. At least he was only six feet off of the ground and not over a hundred.