Frenemies: And Then Someone Said Good Morning (Lornrocks)
Author: Lornrocks, republished with permission and small edits for grammar and spacing
Title: Then Someone Said Good Morning
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Peter/Sylar
Summary: A sequel to my last fic (Won't Stop Until You're Shaking). This was requested as a follow up, in which Sylar heals Peter and is not sorry for it.
Warnings: Unbeta'd, implied gayness. Okay, it's not implied. Sue me.
Sylar doesn't fall asleep after Peter does. Instead, he sits and watches the other man as he slumbers, breathing clearly labored. He knows that Peter must be exhausted from the past few days, and maybe jumping him wasn't the best idea, but it got his stubborn ass to go to sleep, so Sylar counts it as a win.
Peter tries to roll over in his sleep but he groans and shifts back. He didn't wake up all the way, but clearly, he wasn't doing too well.
Sylar decides something must be done.
He slides his fingers through Peter's, squeezing lightly.
"Come on, take regeneration from me." He squeezes harder, moving so he can whisper into the other man's ear, trying to see if he can hear him. "Please, sweetheart."
Peter shifts slightly, then mumbles something, and then a familiar tingle passes between their hands as Peter takes the regen. Almost instantly after, the bruises on his face begin to fade and Peter's breathing evens out.
He sleeps well the rest of the night, not once waking up.
When he does finally open his eyes, he's greeted by the sound of rain, pattering softly against his window; the smell of something delicious wafting in from the kitchen; and the sight of Sylar, standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, looking freshly showered and dressed, watching Peter.
"Hey," Peter mumbles, and realizes rather belatedly that he actually feels pretty good.
"Hey," Sylar says back, and hesitates for a moment before prompting, "How do you feel?"
The medic stretches, testing out his body, and finding no pain immediately evident, shrugs.
"Pretty good, actually. All things considered."
Sylar nods, then stands there as if waiting for something, but after a second, disappears back to the kitchen. He comes back holding a tray filled with breakfast foods, which would explain the delicious smell.
"I um, made you breakfast," he announces, and Peter can't help smiling.
"That's very nice of you, thank you."
He sits up and lets Sylar put the tray across his lap, then watches as Sylar sits down next to him on the bed and grabs an apple.
They sit there for a bit in companionable silence, munching on food and otherwise having a nice, lazy morning, when Peter stops mid bite and turns to stare at the other man. Mother fucker, he thinks, as he realizes what must have happened. "Is this your way of apologizing for making me take regen?"
Sylar looks guilty almost immediately, but instead of looking away, he stares right back at Peter. "Yes, it is." He waits a beat. "Although I'm not sorry. You look much better now."
Peter levels his best glare in the other man's direction, but eventually, their little battle of wills loses its steam and they both sigh and retreat back to what they were doing: eating breakfast. Afterwards, Peter helps Sylar with the dishes in the kitchen, then goes to jump in the shower.
Three times he has to push the other man out of the bathroom before he resorts to locking the door (never mind it won't stop him from getting in if he really wanted to).
"I can shower by myself just fine," he says, through the wood of the door, and he can almost see Sylar raising a suggestive eyebrow.
"Oh, I know that, Peter. I was just wondering if you needed help with something else."
The obvious insinuation in his tone leaves nothing to the imagination, and Peter actually almost opens the door before he reminds himself that he needs some time to think. He sheds his clothes and takes a long, hot shower, reemerging in just a towel.
He quite likes the way he makes the other man's face flush, he decides, and heads into his room to salvage some clothes, which he carefully puts on, even though he knows that the regeneration fixed all of his injuries.
He comes back out and leans over the back of the armchair that Sylar is seated in, nuzzling the side of his face, pleased that his new... whatever doesn't seem to mind the affection.
"So did you really mean what you said, or was that just a heat of the moment thing?"
Sylar tenses, but then relaxes, sighing, "I'm not sure. I think the first one."
Peter thinks for a moment, then moves until he's standing in front of the armchair.
"I'm not sure either, but I think that I might not hate you. In fact, I'd say it's more... that I like you, now?"
He knows ending this confession in an upward inflection is probably a bad thing, but he doesn't know what else to say without giving too much away. He waits for a response, but instead of getting a raised eyebrow or a chuckle, he gets a pair of arms wrapped around middle, tugging him down until he's sideways in the chair, sitting in Sylar's lap, and practically melts into the other man's kiss, feeling better than he has in a long, long time.
The regen has nothing to do with it.
"I still don't forgive you for tricking me," Peter mumbles into Sylar's lips, but is quickly pulled back in before he can say anymore.
"Okay," he says, pulling back one last time, "I do."
He shifts so he's straddling the man underneath him and threads his fingers in the other man's hair, smiling to himself as he leans down to press a kiss to Sylar's temple.
He can't hold a grudge forever, after all.