Date: 2011-12-18 12:42 am (UTC)
heroslayer: (pulse's been rising; temples are poundin)
From: [personal profile] heroslayer
He mumbles an apology he doesn't really mean and moves his lips from his throat, mouth seeking his eagerly.

That's a good word for everything that follows, too. Eager. When they're together, Sylar usually takes it slow, their romps in bed a wonderfully terrible sort of torture that usually end with making Matt beg for an end before he finally obliges him. Now, though, there's none of that. He's frenetic and potentially more outwardly responsive than he's ever been, more vocal, and he doesn't bother holding the other man cruelly on edge. He gives him his release easily and quickly, somehow gentle in spite of the overpowering want in his thoughts the entire time, and he falls apart just behind him, dropping his head to his shoulder when he's spent, panting.

If both their clothes are on the wrong side of destroyed at the end of it, he takes no notice, nor does he realize he'd done it in the first place, controlling his new found strength not really possible when he's not aware he has it in the first place.
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