Slave Verse 4, Chapter 9: Making Time For Each Other
A/N: I'm not up to writing anything lengthy at the moment, but here's a little stolen scene.
Three years later…
It was a rare evening alone together, without any pressing demands on their time. Sure, there were better things they could be off doing, more effective, but they needed the downtime. Peter was reading Doyle's The Valley of Fear, and seemed absorbed by it. Sylar sat quietly, sipping his iced coffee and considering that this just would not do. However, confronting Peter about it directly probably wasn't the best course.
Instead, Sylar went off to find one of the many watches he'd collected in spare moments in the last few years. He got out his tools and returned to the study, where he set up a TV tray and laid out his equipment. Peter looked up at him blankly for a moment, then went back to his book.
Hm. Sylar made a flourish of setting up, bringing in a separate lamp. Peter eyed that too, but again returned to reading about Holmes' latest adventure. Sylar settled in and pretended to shut out the world around him. As he'd expected, several minutes later Peter asked, "What are you doing?"
"I'm fixing a watch, Peter. Now hush." Sylar didn't look up, but he knew Peter scowled at him. He kept his face studiously blank.
Peter sighed and went back to his book, shifting uneasily. It didn't last. Sylar hadn't expected it to. A few minutes after that, Peter rose and came over to look. "So is this one fast or slow?"
"Peter! You're blocking the light. Don't stand there." He shooed Peter away and with a harrumph, Peter went back to his easy chair. He toyed with his book, watching as Sylar obsessed over the delicate mechanisms. Several minutes passed in a now-tense silence, before Peter stood abruptly and left. Sylar watched him go, disappointed.
Did I do too much? Is he angry? What's he doing? He listened, tracking Peter's progress to the kitchen and hearing him get down a glass and fill it with water. Peter piddled around a bit more in the other room. Sylar sighed and went back to the timepiece. He might as well get the satisfaction of fixing it, if he wasn't going to be getting anything else right away.
Enough time passed that he was truly engrossed when Peter came back. Sylar registered his lover's entrance, but he'd given up on anything happening at the moment. It wasn't until Peter circled around behind him that hope pricked its ears. A moment later, with Sylar still bent to his task, Peter's mouth found one of those ears, sucking on the top of it. Sylar groaned quietly.
"Mmm," Peter hummed, letting go only so he could lick down the back of that ear, making it wet and cold. "Is that watch even broken?"
Sylar smiled. "Yes, actually it is." In a gentle, mocking tone, he said, "And you're keeping me from fixing it. For shame, Peter."
"Uh-huh. It took me a little bit to figure out what you were up to." Peter worked his way down Sylar's neck to his shoulder, running a hand under Sylar's collar and shirt on the other side. Peter bit him lightly as Sylar reached up to caress the top of his head.
"So it worked?"
"Yep." Peter came around the front and shoved the tray out of his way. Sylar caught it gracefully with telekinesis and moved it aside as Peter climbed on his lap.
"Hm. I love it when a good plan comes together."
I have some concept work done for a Slave Verse 5, but it remains unwritten. Right now it vies with several other projects for prime back-burner space.