That Time of Year part 1/?
Title: That Time of Year
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Sylar/Peter
Rating: G but may reach NC-17 later
Summary: The holidays dredge up complications between Peter and Sylar.
Author Notes: My entry for the Petlar Advent Calendar. It's not as completed as I would have hoped but hey, you'll get the rest as a special Christmas present. :) Also the first part is from Peter's pov and then it switches to Sylar's for the second half.
It is a week before Thanksgiving the first time Peter tries to mention it to Sylar. He had been putting it off. He knew that Sylar didn’t want to talk about it, he didn’t even want to talk about it, the last Thanksgiving that they spent together having been far from ideal, but Sylar was a part of his life now, a permanent part in his mind, and he accepted him to be as much a part of his dysfunctional family as anybody else and Thanksgiving was above all else a family holiday.
Peter had been invited to Ma’s for Thanksgiving dinner this year along with Claire and the Bennets and he wanted to bring Sylar with him. He could see the flaws in this plan. Honestly he didn’t expect them to survive half the night, but they both had their own bad memories when it came to this holiday and he wanted them to face them together. You don’t spend five years alone together in another man’s nightmare without forming some kind of a connection and as he’d said, Sylar was a part of his family now and he wanted him to feel like it. He had been living with him in his apartment for the past six months and Peter still got the feeling that Sylar was just waiting for Peter to get tired of him and kick him out. Peter wanted to assure him that this wasn’t the case, but he didn’t know how to do it without creeping Sylar out with heartfelt words and wind up having him leave anyway or subjecting both of them to the Thanksgiving Dinner from Hell. Peter had decided to go with the lesser of the two evils.
So one week before Thanksgiving Peter tries to invite Sylar to Thanksgiving dinner and six hours later he’s getting ready for bed when he realizes that they still haven’t discussed anything. Peter smiles to himself. He shouldn’t have been surprised that Sylar had managed to successfully distract him, he’d always been good at that. He also shouldn’t be surprised the next day, when he wakes to find him gone, but he is.
The apartment has been swept clean of any traces that Sylar had ever been there except for a note that offers absolutely no comfort and even less information about where he might be. Peter calls in sick to work that day, works through Thanksgiving, and when the holiday comes and goes and Sylar still hasn’t come back, he calls in sick again.
~*~
It’s December before Sylar is finally standing outside Peter’s door again. He guiltily shuffles his feet as he tries to draw up the courage to knock. Sylar hadn’t planned on being gone this long, then again he had also seriously been considering staying away until the holiday season was over altogether and maybe just show up to celebrate a “Brave New Year” and hope Peter might have changed his mind by then. That would have been the coward’s way out though and Sylar knew that if Peter wanted to kick him out he had to let him do it or risk being cut out of his life altogether.
So Sylar knocked. No answer. He figured Peter was probably still at work, he didn’t know what his schedule was like now. Deciding that he might as well, Sylar slipped in his key and let himself in.
Whatever he had been expecting, it was nothing like this.
When Sylar had left, Peter’s apartment had still maintained it’s practically empty style. Apart from a few trunks of his belongings and a cheap futon Peter had bought for him, it hadn’t changed one bit from last year. Sylar had considered asking Peter to add some more furniture so he could stop living in a suitcase, but he worried that if he made any moves to try and officially move in, Peter would finally come to his senses and realize that he wanted him out. So he let things lie. Why rock the boat? Now he could see that that boat had been thoroughly rocked.
Peter’s old furniture had been moved back in from storage (although his futon still maintained it’s old place) and his apartment appeared fully furnished and well-inhabited. It had also been dressed to the nines in Christmas decorations. Every inch of the apartment screamed holiday cheer at Sylar. The only thing that seemed to be missing was a tree, although all this new furniture almost made the apartment seem too big to fit one.
Sylar let out a small sigh. It seemed that Peter had managed to move on with his life. It was clear now that his presence had just been holding him back. It would be better if he just left. Peter wouldn’t even know that he’d been there.
Then he heard a startled gasp and a thump come from behind him. He flinched and turned around slowly to see Peter standing there with a pile of carelessly dropped grocery bags on the floor. Sylar started to hunch in on himself, dreading what Peter would say to him. He struggled to find the words, any words that could make Peter happy to see him.
“Hey,” was all he said.
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Sylar/Peter
Rating: G but may reach NC-17 later
Summary: The holidays dredge up complications between Peter and Sylar.
Author Notes: My entry for the Petlar Advent Calendar. It's not as completed as I would have hoped but hey, you'll get the rest as a special Christmas present. :) Also the first part is from Peter's pov and then it switches to Sylar's for the second half.
It is a week before Thanksgiving the first time Peter tries to mention it to Sylar. He had been putting it off. He knew that Sylar didn’t want to talk about it, he didn’t even want to talk about it, the last Thanksgiving that they spent together having been far from ideal, but Sylar was a part of his life now, a permanent part in his mind, and he accepted him to be as much a part of his dysfunctional family as anybody else and Thanksgiving was above all else a family holiday.
Peter had been invited to Ma’s for Thanksgiving dinner this year along with Claire and the Bennets and he wanted to bring Sylar with him. He could see the flaws in this plan. Honestly he didn’t expect them to survive half the night, but they both had their own bad memories when it came to this holiday and he wanted them to face them together. You don’t spend five years alone together in another man’s nightmare without forming some kind of a connection and as he’d said, Sylar was a part of his family now and he wanted him to feel like it. He had been living with him in his apartment for the past six months and Peter still got the feeling that Sylar was just waiting for Peter to get tired of him and kick him out. Peter wanted to assure him that this wasn’t the case, but he didn’t know how to do it without creeping Sylar out with heartfelt words and wind up having him leave anyway or subjecting both of them to the Thanksgiving Dinner from Hell. Peter had decided to go with the lesser of the two evils.
So one week before Thanksgiving Peter tries to invite Sylar to Thanksgiving dinner and six hours later he’s getting ready for bed when he realizes that they still haven’t discussed anything. Peter smiles to himself. He shouldn’t have been surprised that Sylar had managed to successfully distract him, he’d always been good at that. He also shouldn’t be surprised the next day, when he wakes to find him gone, but he is.
The apartment has been swept clean of any traces that Sylar had ever been there except for a note that offers absolutely no comfort and even less information about where he might be. Peter calls in sick to work that day, works through Thanksgiving, and when the holiday comes and goes and Sylar still hasn’t come back, he calls in sick again.
~*~
It’s December before Sylar is finally standing outside Peter’s door again. He guiltily shuffles his feet as he tries to draw up the courage to knock. Sylar hadn’t planned on being gone this long, then again he had also seriously been considering staying away until the holiday season was over altogether and maybe just show up to celebrate a “Brave New Year” and hope Peter might have changed his mind by then. That would have been the coward’s way out though and Sylar knew that if Peter wanted to kick him out he had to let him do it or risk being cut out of his life altogether.
So Sylar knocked. No answer. He figured Peter was probably still at work, he didn’t know what his schedule was like now. Deciding that he might as well, Sylar slipped in his key and let himself in.
Whatever he had been expecting, it was nothing like this.
When Sylar had left, Peter’s apartment had still maintained it’s practically empty style. Apart from a few trunks of his belongings and a cheap futon Peter had bought for him, it hadn’t changed one bit from last year. Sylar had considered asking Peter to add some more furniture so he could stop living in a suitcase, but he worried that if he made any moves to try and officially move in, Peter would finally come to his senses and realize that he wanted him out. So he let things lie. Why rock the boat? Now he could see that that boat had been thoroughly rocked.
Peter’s old furniture had been moved back in from storage (although his futon still maintained it’s old place) and his apartment appeared fully furnished and well-inhabited. It had also been dressed to the nines in Christmas decorations. Every inch of the apartment screamed holiday cheer at Sylar. The only thing that seemed to be missing was a tree, although all this new furniture almost made the apartment seem too big to fit one.
Sylar let out a small sigh. It seemed that Peter had managed to move on with his life. It was clear now that his presence had just been holding him back. It would be better if he just left. Peter wouldn’t even know that he’d been there.
Then he heard a startled gasp and a thump come from behind him. He flinched and turned around slowly to see Peter standing there with a pile of carelessly dropped grocery bags on the floor. Sylar started to hunch in on himself, dreading what Peter would say to him. He struggled to find the words, any words that could make Peter happy to see him.
“Hey,” was all he said.