Adam Monroe (
changehistory) wrote2008-01-29 10:22 am
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Entry tags:
When Worlds Collide: RP for
yearsguilt
There was a distinct sense that it was very possible that he ought not be doing this. Repercussions could abound, sliding between both of their timelines. Already the questions abounded of what he was like in this Peter's world. If Kirby Plaza happened, then Hiro was not there, and Sylar had not thrown him to the wall...or had he? He should ask, he thought. Ask if they had all been there, and Hiro still...Because if it had gone wrong in just that Claire hadn't shot Peter or Nathan hadn't appeared, hadn't stepped away from Angela and to save Peter, then Hiro still could have been flung back in the past and his own life taken the same course until somehow, some other way, he escaped the Company facility.
But it hadn't happened that way here, and part of him felt his headache with the repercussions of that, because if changing it here hadn't changed this boy's future, then had Hiro stopping him in that vault not truly changed the future his Peter had seen? Had the virus been released somewhere, somehow? Was there a world where with God's grace it had all gone right? And if so, why was he stuck in this one where everything felt fragile and hard and sharp, like he could fall apart at any moment, and the choices that tore from emotions he'd never expected nor wanted to feel seemed harder. A setback, surely. Just that, a few more weeks, a month or two, some sleep, some rest, and he'd be fine. Back to his old self, back to looking about. Back to a new plan.
So damn the timelines crossing, he decided, as he entered the Yaffa Cafe, taking in the bright animal prints and Christmas lights strung around and smiled to see that some things didn't change, even if his blessed East Village had gone and gotten gentrified while he was locked away. This he knew, the music and the people, and if the clothes changed, the air did not. He'd settled on jeans, considering the venue, and a sweater over a button down shirt, with his leather jacket and scarf. Casual, but still pulled together, unable to be sloppy. If he was nervous, it didn't show as his cool eyes scanned the room, looking for a familiar face, and, failing to find it, moving to take a seat at a booth in the back where he could watch the door and wait for Peter, this new Peter who shouldn't be here, but was, to appear.
[ooc for anyone reading: For now, I think this is in the "open" verse. Coming out of RP in
sixwordstories, but I think that's best, so "his Peter" would be
youngerpetrelli when referred to in discussion with this one, yeah?]
But it hadn't happened that way here, and part of him felt his headache with the repercussions of that, because if changing it here hadn't changed this boy's future, then had Hiro stopping him in that vault not truly changed the future his Peter had seen? Had the virus been released somewhere, somehow? Was there a world where with God's grace it had all gone right? And if so, why was he stuck in this one where everything felt fragile and hard and sharp, like he could fall apart at any moment, and the choices that tore from emotions he'd never expected nor wanted to feel seemed harder. A setback, surely. Just that, a few more weeks, a month or two, some sleep, some rest, and he'd be fine. Back to his old self, back to looking about. Back to a new plan.
So damn the timelines crossing, he decided, as he entered the Yaffa Cafe, taking in the bright animal prints and Christmas lights strung around and smiled to see that some things didn't change, even if his blessed East Village had gone and gotten gentrified while he was locked away. This he knew, the music and the people, and if the clothes changed, the air did not. He'd settled on jeans, considering the venue, and a sweater over a button down shirt, with his leather jacket and scarf. Casual, but still pulled together, unable to be sloppy. If he was nervous, it didn't show as his cool eyes scanned the room, looking for a familiar face, and, failing to find it, moving to take a seat at a booth in the back where he could watch the door and wait for Peter, this new Peter who shouldn't be here, but was, to appear.
[ooc for anyone reading: For now, I think this is in the "open" verse. Coming out of RP in
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Hiro had been all about making things be as they were supposed to, though really, they'd almost destroyed that between them. Yet, nothing had changed in their future, or, without Hiro, it seemed it hadn't changed in the further future either. So he wondered, finally, whether changing history was even possible anymore. Perhaps it was all fated and the glimpses of the future that could be merely tantalizing what ifs. Except this boy came from one of those.
"This is it," he said, after he'd been quiet for a moment, gesturing to a brick walk-up, no more than four stories high. It had been renovated with the gentrification of the neighborhood, the inside all polished and clean. Adam was on the second floor, and he unlocked the door to usher Peter in. It was warm, both in temperature and color, with honey colored wood floors and cabinets, exposed brick walls here and there, earth toned furniture in the living room and a fireplace settled in the outside wall.
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“I would be nice living in a place that didn’t smell like garbage.” He wondered if Adam would catch on that out of all the apartment buildings in New York, he was asking if he could move in here. Whether or not that meant that he’d be closer to Adam, it just seemed to highly of a coincidence, but it seemed Peter didn’t pay no mind to it.
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He had to bite his tongue to keep from mentioning his second bedroom, empty except for a few bookshelves that could be moved to his own easily enough, and a futon he likely never would have a need for. He'd just met this boy, and, explaining why there was another Peter living here if and when his popped by, or Hiro or...it was complicated and deserved thinking of rather than an impulsive offer.
His eyes glanced toward the kitchen, the living room, then he nodded, inviting him in further as he moved into the tiny kitchen. "Can I get you anything? Beer? Whiskey? Water? More coffee?" Coffee, at least, he could manage to make fairly well.
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“I don’t want anything to drink,” he answered in his hushed tone, finally turning to face Adam as he slowly closed the distance easily, placing himself directly in front of Adam as those hands came quickly to grip the other man’s hips, pulling him almost violently forward so that his body was pressing against his. “Where do you stand on the list of things you can get me?”
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Carefully, almost as if afraid to startle something feral, he slid one of his hands up Peter's chest to curl around the back of his neck, thumb stroking easy on the side, brushing over his skin. He smiled a little. "I suppose I'm on the menu for the asking, if I'm what you want instead..."
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Now he did.
It was amazing how hard he already was, how his length outlined the front of his jeans as he pressed his hips forward just a little so Adam could feel it and let him know that there was still someone around who wanted him and Peter was going to take whatever Adam could offer and not complain about it. "I want you."
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That Adam wanted there was no doubt. That he'd take was a foregone conclusion, as was that he'd give in return. That it hadn't even occurred to Peter before a short while ago, Adam was far too aware of, that this would be different, that this wasn't his Peter with his eager smile and experience, able to tell him exactly what he wanted and how, and knowing what Adam wanted in return before Adam even could voice it sometimes.
"And I, you," he murmured, letting his fingers slide lightly over skin. "Come here, then..." He leaned in, closing the rest of the distance, head ducking to brush his lips lightly over Peter's, just a taste, and then kissed him more firmly, fingers sliding into his hair.
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Those strong hands were already working on his shirt, eager to take it off to feel the skin underneath, to grab and take hold of those muscles. He almost shivered at the thought of that body fully pressing against his own, his skin flaring up underneath his clothing to make him hot and bothered by just the thought processing.
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He returned the kiss, letting the hand at Peter's hip slide up under his shirt, across his stomach, feeling the line of his muscles, before pushing the shirt up. Already he was aching for more, to explore a body like and unlike, familiar and not, to see what was the same and what was different and what he responded to. But he made his touches softer, tongue meeting Peter's with hunger, but tempering it, control clamping down as he tried to slow the pulsing need to something more like heated exploration.
You only get one first time, he chided gently, thinking it loud and clear and outside the boundaries and walls he'd learned to keep up from Maury Parkman.
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“Show me how good it can feel.” Peter said as he picked up what Adam said through his telepathy from Parkman. Peter had never given anyone permission to explore his body or take control of things like he was letting Adam do now. The years made him more of the alpha male, even when it came down to the simplest things. Sex with Adam Monroe wasn't going to be simple – it was going to be extraordinary.
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"For that we really should move out of the hall..." He leaned in to kiss Peter hard for a moment, then took his hand to lead him back to the big bedroom off the living room, with its king sized bed and feather mattress top and down comforters--a testament to his need to erase every memory of that damned sterile cot from his brain.
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He moved slowly, letting his eyes take in the room – every piece of texture and furniture so he could come back to this place whenever he wanted. All he had to do was concentrate and popping in with Hiro’s teleportation ability would be a piece of cake. He brought himself to sit down at the edge of the bed, his fine chin lifting to gaze up at Adam.
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He wanted him closer, the two of them nothing but flesh and tangled limbs and heat and passion, wanting in ways he could only brush over now, letting a shiver dance across his skin in pure reaction to Peter's closeness.
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Brown eyes did their best to keep contact with Adam’s, but his curiosity got the better as his sight lowered gently for a penetrating gaze at the soft muscles of Adam’s chest, arms perfectly crafted with tendons and bulged skin that made Peter want to explore his entire body to see what other parts of him were still hiding behind those few layers of clothes he still had on.
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One of his hands wound with one of Peter's tugging it up to rest on his chest as he shifted, pressing Peter back onto the bed, letting a touch of the hunger slide back into his kiss, stroking down Peter's side, fingers lightly teasing under his waistband, but keeping most of the heat, the pressure, between lips and tongue.
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“So, first lesson. What are we going to learn today, professor?” Peter couldn’t help but smile, letting his lips lightly nip at Adam’s as he stared up into those blue eyes, finding that he could get lost in them so easily.
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He slid down a bit, leaning back against Peter, skin to skin, feeling the heat of his chest, the pounding of his heart against his. Tilting his head, he pressed a kiss to Peter's neck, teeth nipping a bit sharply.
"Lesson the first...the differences in having a man in your bed rather than a woman..."
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“I’m assuming there is a big difference?” Peter couldn’t help but give Adam that crooked smile, his lower lip hanging just a bit off to the side, his face softening for a briefest of moments as he waited for Adam to continue.
(ooc: sorry for the major lag. work can be a bitch.)
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Rising up to his knees, he let his fingers curl around Peter's waistband. "Lift your hips," he murmured softly against his lips.
(ooc: No worries. I know the feeling utterly. Home sick today, myself, so spacey but around. lol)
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“I don’t like to brag either.” A cocky smile appeared over his lips, his face still showing the signs of insecurity about all of this, but he was eager to continue because this was what he wanted right now and it was going to take a lot of self control to tear him away from it – he wasn’t planning to.
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He leaned in again to catch Peter's lips with his, feeling his erection press against his stomach with a appreciative moan. "Perhaps not," he murmured against his lips, "But you could..." He shifted then, just a bit to the side so he could keep kissing Peter as he trailed his fingers lightly up his shaft.
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“I need you.” Breathless words whispered against Adam’s lips as his shaft throbbed gently, the desire unfolding before Monroe and making it clear that this needed to carry on to the next level or else Peter was going to end up losing his mind.
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