Advent Calendar, day 11!
Title: You're a Mean one, Mr. Gray
Rating: PGish
Characters/Pairings: Sylar/Peter
Summary: Don't even ask. It's for the Peter Sylar Advent Calendar!
Warnings: Gayness and a horrible misuse of a Christmas classic.
Peter was busy putting up the Christmas directions when Sylar comes waltzing into his apartment like he owned the place.
Like always.
"Hey, could you give me a hand with this?" Peter asks, motioning towards the garland he was trying to put up.
"No."
Silence.
"Why not?" Peter asks, turning to look at the other man. Naturally, Sylar was dressed in all black, which made it easy to see the little tiny snowflakes clinging to him.
"I don't like Christmas," came the reply.
Peter rolls his eyes and turns back to what he was doing.
"Fine, Mr. Grinch."
Pause.
"What did you just call me?"
"You heard me."
"I'm not the Grinch, Peter."
Peter can feel Sylar standing right behind him. Since Peter was standing on a chair, he imagines his ass was almost eye level. He represses a snicker.
"Oh yeah?" he challenges, turning around and jumping off the chair, landing almost flush against the taller man. Leaning in close, Peter presses his face in, so their lips was almost touching, and before Sylar can lean in the rest of the way, Peter whispers,
"You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch."
And then he darts away and pretends to hide behind a chair.
"You really are a heel," he adds.
Sylar sighs. "Is this how you want to play it? Really?"
Peter nods.
"You're as cuddly as a cactus."
"If you're insinuating I need to shave..."
"You're as charming as an eel."
"...Yeah, okay, that's probably true."
"You're a bad banana with a greasy black peel!" Peter asserts, circling around the room as Sylar follows him.
"At least I wash my hair more often than not, Peter."
There's a pause as the paramedic pouts for a moment.
"You're a monster, Mr. Grinch."
"Sticks and stones."
"Your heart's an empty hole."
"Oh, so I have one now?"
"Your brain is full of spiders..."
"Don't talk about brains."
"You've got garlic in your soul, Mr. Grinch."
"I don't even know how to reply to that."
"I wouldn't touch you with a thirty nine and a half foot pole!" Peter raises his arms in a flourish.
Suddenly Sylar is standing right in front of Peter.
"Now we both know that's not true."
Before Peter can spout out another lyric, Sylar's got him pressed against a wall, with his hands on either side of Peter's head.
Peter watches as Sylar smirks, then leans in and kisses Peter hard.
Pulling away, Sylar says in that charming way of his, "Now, I'm going to show you just how generous I can be."
Another kiss.
"And it's not my heart that's going to grow three times its size."
Well, Peter can't exactly complain.
One hour, half a bottle of lube, and two orgasms later, Peter is laying sprawled out across his bed, staring at the ceiling in bewilderment. Sylar watches him, carefully.
"Well?" he prompts.
Peter swallows, turns to look at Sylar, and tries to remember words. Finally, he finds the words to express his sentiments;
"Merry Christmas to me."
Merry Christmas, indeed.
Rating: PGish
Characters/Pairings: Sylar/Peter
Summary: Don't even ask. It's for the Peter Sylar Advent Calendar!
Warnings: Gayness and a horrible misuse of a Christmas classic.
Peter was busy putting up the Christmas directions when Sylar comes waltzing into his apartment like he owned the place.
Like always.
"Hey, could you give me a hand with this?" Peter asks, motioning towards the garland he was trying to put up.
"No."
Silence.
"Why not?" Peter asks, turning to look at the other man. Naturally, Sylar was dressed in all black, which made it easy to see the little tiny snowflakes clinging to him.
"I don't like Christmas," came the reply.
Peter rolls his eyes and turns back to what he was doing.
"Fine, Mr. Grinch."
Pause.
"What did you just call me?"
"You heard me."
"I'm not the Grinch, Peter."
Peter can feel Sylar standing right behind him. Since Peter was standing on a chair, he imagines his ass was almost eye level. He represses a snicker.
"Oh yeah?" he challenges, turning around and jumping off the chair, landing almost flush against the taller man. Leaning in close, Peter presses his face in, so their lips was almost touching, and before Sylar can lean in the rest of the way, Peter whispers,
"You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch."
And then he darts away and pretends to hide behind a chair.
"You really are a heel," he adds.
Sylar sighs. "Is this how you want to play it? Really?"
Peter nods.
"You're as cuddly as a cactus."
"If you're insinuating I need to shave..."
"You're as charming as an eel."
"...Yeah, okay, that's probably true."
"You're a bad banana with a greasy black peel!" Peter asserts, circling around the room as Sylar follows him.
"At least I wash my hair more often than not, Peter."
There's a pause as the paramedic pouts for a moment.
"You're a monster, Mr. Grinch."
"Sticks and stones."
"Your heart's an empty hole."
"Oh, so I have one now?"
"Your brain is full of spiders..."
"Don't talk about brains."
"You've got garlic in your soul, Mr. Grinch."
"I don't even know how to reply to that."
"I wouldn't touch you with a thirty nine and a half foot pole!" Peter raises his arms in a flourish.
Suddenly Sylar is standing right in front of Peter.
"Now we both know that's not true."
Before Peter can spout out another lyric, Sylar's got him pressed against a wall, with his hands on either side of Peter's head.
Peter watches as Sylar smirks, then leans in and kisses Peter hard.
Pulling away, Sylar says in that charming way of his, "Now, I'm going to show you just how generous I can be."
Another kiss.
"And it's not my heart that's going to grow three times its size."
Well, Peter can't exactly complain.
One hour, half a bottle of lube, and two orgasms later, Peter is laying sprawled out across his bed, staring at the ceiling in bewilderment. Sylar watches him, carefully.
"Well?" he prompts.
Peter swallows, turns to look at Sylar, and tries to remember words. Finally, he finds the words to express his sentiments;
"Merry Christmas to me."
Merry Christmas, indeed.