Bricks in the Wall, Chapter 36: Not Quite A Smack
Title: Not Quite a Smack
Characters: Sylar, Peter Petrelli
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Word count: 375
Setting: The Wall
Summary: Sylar tries to land an air-kiss on Peter's hair and almost gets his ass kicked for it.
The kiss popped in the air, a good inch from Sylar's target - the back Peter's head. Not only did he miss, but his lips smacked a lot more than he'd intended, something that didn't go unheard only inches from Peter's ears. Sylar jerked back, but he wasn't fast enough to dodge when Peter spun and lashed out, grabbing the front of his shirt just under his collarbone. Sylar didn't bother trying to put his hands up to surrender or block. He never tried that and he wasn't sure why he didn't have that so-basic instinct - he just didn't. Instead, he stiffened and stood taller, eyes widening just a little as he waited for the blow to fall.
Peter had probably seen Sylar's fear response often enough now to read it, not that it mattered. No, there just weren't many good excuses for kissing at another guy's hair when he said something cute and adorable and completely unintentionally so. He assumed Peter would take it as mocking. Sylar sure as hell would, were their positions reversed, and a beat-down would just as certainly be on the menu. The hand tightened, Peter's other swung back in a fist for wind-up. Sylar saw it happening in slow motion, but instead of things speeding up as they usually did, they went the other direction to stop at a moment of immobility for both of them. Peter's eyes flitted back and forth between Sylar's. He looked uncertain. Sylar lifted his brows slightly and gave a very small, nervous smile.
Peter's grip shifted again. Here it comes - the smile was stupid. Now he's sure you were making fun of him. But instead of swinging the other fist, a finger - index or middle, hard to tell - scratched back and forth across the side of his chest next to where Peter still held his shirt with the rest of his grip. Sylar swallowed and blinked. What the hell?
He was released, and without the expected shove that would force him to catch his balance and express Peter's disgust with him. Peter whirled and stalked off, leaving Sylar standing there unharmed, touching his chest speculatively. A roguish grin split his face a moment later.