Fic: 5 + 1
Fic: Five Times Someone Walked in on Peter and Sylar and One Time They Walked In On Someone Else
Rating: PG-13?
Characters/Pairings: Sylar/Peter, Hesam/Emma, Gretchen/Claire, Luke/Amanda, Edgar, Noah Bennett
Summary: Read the title. I know it's long.
Warnings: Unbeta'd.
Notes: Let's see, I got het, gay, and lesbian pairings plus humor and then some angst and random I don't even know what, plus a handful of characters that really aren't even on the show that much. Huh.
5. Hesam finds out about it like this:
The hospital's got a fundraiser going on, trying to raise funds for the new pediatric cancer ward, and for whatever reason, the theme is Grease. How he managed to convince Peter to take the night off so he could be his wingman is beyond him, but his partner does agree.
Somehow, they manage to coordinate some T-Bird costumes with some of the other medics, and Emma and some nurses dress as the Pink Ladies. It's all very cute and Hesam takes one look at the decorations and smiles. Maybe tonight could be a good night.
He's not surprised when Peter's roommate Gabriel comes along with him, dressed as a T-Bird as well, looking tall and just a little dangerous. Hesam's not sure if he likes him or not. But, Emma assures him that Gabriel is a good guy, so he believes her. He's always trusted her judgement, since she tends to notice things others don't.
They all dance and make fools of themselves, especially after all the alcohol they've been drinking, and Hesam thinks that tonight is a good night when he spots Emma sitting by herself. Being the gentleman that he is, he goes to sit by her.
"Hey you," he smiles, and she smiles back. For a second, Hesam forgets to breathe. But then he remembers the simple motion and continues to talk as if nothing was happening.
"Where's the Dynamic Duo?"
Emma shrugs.
"Probably went to get some air."
The medic nods, quickly scanning the room for his friends, but he can't find them. He takes the opportunity to ask Emma something she might know.
"Why does Pete have a roommate? It's not like he needs help paying the rent."
Emma puts her head in her hands and looks up at him from underneath long eyelashes. He mimics her postures and she smiles. Success.
"I think Gabriel is an old friend of Peter's, and he needed a place to stay. You know how he can be."
"Ah, yes. Peter 'I wear my heart on my sleeve' Petrelli. How noble of him."
The topic seems uninteresting as Hesam notices the way Emma is inching closer to him in her seat. He decides to change the subject.
"Has anyone ever told you how gorgeous you are?"
A few minutes later, Hesam starts to feel really good about the situation. It could just be the booze talking, but he's feeling pretty confident that he can ask Emma out on a date and maybe even kiss her. However, first he wants to make sure he looks his best before he puts the moves on her. He excuses himself and heads to the men's room. He's just gotten inside when he freezes, realizing he just walked in on two people fooling around.
However, it's not so much that two people are obliviously making out that's gotten to him. It's the fact that it's Peter on the counter, jacket off and pants undone, with Gabriel pressed between his legs, in a similar disheveled manner.
He coughs loudly and the love birds whip around quickly to see who the intruder was. Peter begins to flush profusely and Gabriel just arches an eyebrow, as if to say, yeah, what of it?
"I must say," Hesam babbles, completely not in control of his mouth, "That if Danny and Kanickie actually did make out in the movie, Grease would be a lot more interesting."
He frowns and turns, leaving the bathroom and heading back to Emma.
"Did you know," he announces, holding his hands up in disbelief, "That Peter and Gabriel are well into third base in the bathroom?"
Her eyebrows shoot up but a smile still spreads across her face.
"I knew it!"
They share a laugh before Hesam offers his arm.
"Since they ditched us to make out, it's only fair we return the favor."
Emma takes Hesam's arm, and together, they disappear out of the room, leaving a flustered Peter and Gabriel to look for them a few minutes later.
The next morning, Peter approaches a slightly hung over Hesam in the locker room.
"Look," he begins, but Hesam interrupts him.
"I couldn't give a fuck less that you're gay, Pete. In fact, according to guy etiquette, I'm actually supposed to congratulate you for getting some. So," He claps a hand on the other man's shoulder, "Congratulations."
Peter breathes out a sigh of relief and then starts to smile, slyly.
"I hear that I should return the favor. I know you've been pining after Emma for a while."
Hesam rubs the back of his head and shrugs.
"Well, here's hoping she realizes what an idiot I am and sticks with me anyway, right?"
A comforting hand is pressed to his shoulder.
"Don't talk about yourself like that. You're a good guy, and you two are cute together."
Hesam lets the sentiment sink in before he pushes the hand off.
"Come on, Mr. Sensitivity. Time to go to work."
4. Luke had no idea that the man he once looked up to as a mentor preferred the company of dark eyed brunettes with stupid bangs and a penchant for wearing all black. Really, he pegged him for the blonde, crazy type.
Well, actually, he wasn't too off on that one.
But anyway.
For whatever reason he had ran into Sylar again after he graduated from high school, and was slightly disappointed to find out that the older man was trying to find him to fucking apologize, which by the way, is totally not hardcore.
But he was looking for someplace to stay for a while, get away from his mom, and apparently there was a couch with his name on it back at Sylar's. Well, where Sylar was staying, anyway.
That's when he meets Peter Petrelli, a guy he's read about in the papers, first for being a Senator's brother, then for going missing, and finally, for being some sort of local hero. In person, Peter doesn't seem all that special. Especially not with that stupid hair cut.
But the guy grows on him, what with his subtle sense of humor and love of comic books. Plus, he's literally almost the nicest guy Luke has ever met.
Although honestly he knew that the two of them were fucking. They shared a bedroom and sometimes, Luke would catch Peter wearing a pair of Sylar's pants. He could always tell because Peter would have to roll up the bottoms. It was almost endearing, in a way.
What he had no idea, really, was that one day he'd come home from work (he'd gotten a job to start saving money for college, which Peter had somehow convinced him to go to) and overhear the two of them practically snuggling in the kitchen.
He didn't mean to just stand there and creep on them like some sort of pervert, but it's not like they were sucking each other's dicks or anything. (Well, not yet, anyway.)
In fact, Peter was sitting on the kitchen table with his feet on one of the chairs, and he had a cup of coffee in one hand while the other was occupied in tangling itself in Sylar's hair. He still had his uniform on, which means he had just gotten home from work. Sylar had one hand on either side of the seated man's hips and was busily planting light kisses on Peter's neck.
"Hmmm," Peter sighs, and Sylar laughs softly.
"You're so easy to please sometimes, honeybee."
Peter cracks an eye open.
"Don't call me that, or I swear to God-"
"Yeah, yeah," Sylar interjects, pulling away so he can look down on the other man. "You'll stab me in the eye. Or smother me in my sleep. Or God knows what other schemes you can come up with."
A sad look crosses Peter's face and he sets the mug down on the adjacent counter, so he can focus his full attention on the man in front of him.
"I'm never going to hurt you ever again, Gabriel. You know that." He reaches both hands up to gently cup the other man's face, and for a second, Luke wonders if he should loudly interrupt them like a jackass. Fortunately, the way Sylar's posture changes makes him close his mouth and lean in to hear better.
"I know," he says, softly, and he presses his forehead to Peter's. "I know."
"I love you," Peter is saying, and his voice sounds cracked and pained like it almost hurts to say the words, and Sylar's shoulders slump like being loved is almost overwhelming him.
Luke wonders if Sylar is going to say it back but the way the two of them are now kissing and groping each other, he would suppose that the other man does mean it back. He quietly counts off a minute in his head before turning around, opening the front door, and slamming it shut. When he walks into the kitchen, the two of them are sitting opposite at the table, coffee mugs in hand and looking as impeccable as ever.
"Good evening," Luke smiles knowingly, earning a weird look.
3. Noah Bennett considers himself to be a retired man. Even with the sudden popularity of his daughter and the suspicious acceptance of specials in the world, he tries his best to keep a level head.
But, when his old friend Angela Petrelli gives him a call and asks him to investigate some things for her, he has to think it over for a full minute before saying no. It's not until the next day when he gets a call from a very disturbed sounding Matt Parkman that he decides maybe a little bit of investigating is in order, after all.
He starts at the hospital where Peter works. When he's sure Peter is elsewhere, he carefully advances on the pretty blonde sitting at the desk, ear buds in ears. He remembers her from the carnival and knows she cannot hear, but he carefully approaches the desk and moves his hand to get her attention.
She must recognize him, because she smiles and looks up.
"You're Peter's friend, right?"
He nods and offers a hand.
"Noah Bennett. I was wondering if I can ask you some things?"
Her brows furrow for a moment but then she nods and he begins to talk, using some of the little sign language he does know to supplement his questions. When he's done, she just stares back with an amused expression.
"I'm afraid none of that is mine to tell, Mr. Bennett. I'm sorry."
She turns back to what she's doing and Noah starts to leave, but then his eye catches on a photo on her desk. It's her, Peter, and some guy with a beard. He vaguely recalls the other man to be Hesam, Peter's driver, and he decides to see if he might have a word with him.
Noah manages to catch up with Hesam when he leaves the hospital that night, jacket buttoned up tight against the nighttime chill.
"Hey," Hesam says, noticing Noah. "Emma told me you might be by."
"So you know what I'm going to ask?" Noah uses his best, soothing voice, but Hesam just laughs and shoves his hands in his pockets.
"I don't care why you want to know about this so badly but I'm not saying anything." He considers for a moment. "Is it his mom? Peter always said she was crazy."
Noah almost sighs but catches himself just in time.
"This is important. Peter is your friend, and there's a very good chance that the man he's living with is dangerous."
Hesam actually snorts.
"Gabriel? That man couldn't hurt a fly. Well, unless that fly was trying to hurt Peter. Then I think he'd kill the fly and dump its body in the Hudson." He laughs at his own joke, but when he sees Noah's unamused expression, shakes his head.
"You're going to need to do some more digging. I'm not going to give you anything."
He walks away, leaving Noah alone with one more option.
He finds Luke leaving the library at NYU with a backpack slung over one shoulder and a soda in hand.
"I hate you," Luke says, without preamble, and Noah fights the urge to roll his eyes.
"Look, I know you think Sylar is the greatest person on the face of the Earth," Noah begins, but Luke cuts him off.
"Gabriel is great. So is Peter, really. But that doesn't mean anything suspicious is going on. Two guys can live together without it being gay. Because I know that Peter's psycho mother and probably that one crazy mind reader guy put you up to this and I am not going to tell you anything."
Noah frowns.
"Do you all compare notes? I could have used this sort of efficiency back when I worked with the Company."
Luke glares daggers at him for mentioning it, and he briefly entertains the notion that Sylar and Peter were telling him about all the bad things that were happening to specials like them. Maybe that's why Luke had such animosity towards him.
"I have to go to class now. I must say this conversation has been a complete waste of time for me." He smiles. "Fuck off, Mr. Bennett."
He's gone before Noah has a chance to come up with a retort.
Running out of options and avoiding all phone calls from Angela, he heads straight to the source; Peter's apartment.
He's a little worried to find the door is open just a little, the latch caught, and he gently pushes the door open, hand at his hip and ready to draw his gun should the need arise.
However, he quickly discovers that's not necessary, because as soon as he walks into the living room he immediately regrets it. Mostly because Sylar is sprawled, naked, across the couch with an equally undressed Peter sitting on top of him. While Noah can't see specifics (and thank God for the backs of couches), he pretty much figures out what he just interrupted.
They both stare at him with the most annoyed expressions he never even knew were possible. He doesn't bother apologizing, and opts instead to head out of the apartment, shutting the door firmly behind him and heading to the nearest bar.
Of all the ways to find out about an affair, that had to be the worst, he decides, and tosses back some bourbon.
2. Maybe it was a bad idea, but Edgar kept the carnival together. They may not have performed or shown off as much as they did before, but it helped the Family to move around and explore, and he liked seeing new places.
What he didn't like, though, was this punk kid that Sylar- sorry, Gabriel- and Peter Petrelli had brought along with them when they came to visit. They were somewhere in New Jersey and his old friends had heard he was around and came over to see how things were going.
The kid, whose name Edgar did not care to learn, was hitting on Amanda, his Amanda whom Lydia left for him to take care of, and Edgar did not like it one bit.
He was always standing too close to her and she was laughing at everything he was saying and Edgar could see through it all. Amanda was a smart girl, and she was over eighteen by now, but that didn't mean she was allowed to just skip off with some punk who would take advantage of her.
Edgar decided he needed to put a stop to it.
While he's stewing over everything and throwing some of his knives to relieve some stress, he overhears his oldest two guests talking to each other. They reach him and Peter calls out, "You'd better be careful before you put someone's eye out."
He turns to face them and observes the scene in front of him. Peter is leaning against a railing, smiling with amusement at him, and Gabriel is standing next to him, looking relaxed and happy. Which was quite an improvement compared to their first meeting.
"Luke's a good kid," Gabriel explains, as if reading Edgar's mind, but Edgar is not convinced.
"I don't want him putting his lecherous hands on Amanda," Edgar growls, and Peter bites his lip to stop him from laughing.
"She can make decisions for herself, Edgar. She's grown up." He shrugs. "Although I'm sure she does appreciate this scary, threatening father thing."
That gets Edgar to stop.
"Father?"
Gabriel nods.
"She thinks of you as her father, and I must say, you're doing a lovely job of filling that job description. Lydia would be so proud."
At his lost love's name, Edgar's heart clenches, but he finds himself smiling, despite the tears that threaten to escape.
"Yeah, I guess she would. Thanks."
He's about to say something else when Teddy asks him, very politely, if he could come help him with something, and he follows his friend to his booth.
When he's all done with whatever errand he was doing (his mind was a little busy), he found himself all alone. A quick (and for him, it's very, very quick) dash around the camp shows no sign of Luke or Amanda, and he clenches his fist.
Oh, he would find them alright.
He searches until he comes to a trailer with closed curtains that he did not recall having before. He leans against the door and listens, and he has to stop himself from punching a hole through the door when he hears nothing but breathy moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin.
He throws the door open and yells, only to stop mid bellow to find someone he can only assume to be Peter, judging by the paramedic's polo, bent over the small table, pants down around his ankles, with Gabriel standing behind him, hands squeezing bruises into the other man's hips as his pants slouch just a bit on his hips. It's only a brief image but Edgar moves and in a nano second the door is shut again and he's leaning against it, eyes shut as he tries to rid the memory from his head.
"Sorry," he calls loud enough that the others might hear.
"You're forgiven," Gabriel's voice echoes back, "Although if you're looking for Luke and Amanda, they went to get some coffee down the street."
Edgar swears under his breath.
"Thanks. And, uh, carry on," he says, and the subtle slap of skin against skin tells him they took his advice. He shudders and heads off to find the other two love birds.
1. "Maybe we should have called first," Gretchen says, feeling Claire's hand squeeze in hers.
"I'm sure it'll be fine. It'll be a surprise." The blonde turns and smiles at her girlfriend, and Gretchen smiles back.
"Here's hoping we're the ones who aren't surprised."
Claire tsks and tugs more, replying, "You're always such a pessimist, Gretch. My uncle Peter is always very welcoming."
They turn the corner and Claire stops dead in her tracks, prompting Gretchen to look up. Standing outside the door that Gretchen can only assume is Peter's apartment is Peter (or at least the man Gretchen recognizes from photographs), pressed against that man who stole her back pack. Judging by the way they were kissing, Gretchen would say they knew each other better than Claire knew.
"Extremely welcoming," Gretchen quips, and the two men snap apart and whirl around. Peter's eyes widen almost in horror and he shoves the taller man away from him.
"Claire," he says, and Claire wrenches her hand from Gretchen's.
"How could you!?" she's screaming, and Peter tries to walk forward and touch her, but she's shaking her head.
"I trusted you, and you're sleeping with the enemy?" She doesn't wait for her reply and instead stomps off back the way they came.
Gretchen stands there, dumbfounded, before nodding her head once and waving weakly.
"Hi, I'm Gretchen, and now I have to go find my girlfriend before she makes a scene." She turns and disappears, leaving the two men to fend for themselves.
When she finally catches up with Claire, she's pouting (although she would never call it that to her face) in some Starbucks somewhere, nursing a caramel macciato and glaring at nothing in particular.
"Can I ask what just happened here?"
Claire looks up at her with those big blue eyes and sighs.
"It's a long story."
Gretchen reaches over, stealing the coffee and taking a drink.
"We have time."
So Claire explains how she met her uncle the same day she met the mysterious tall man, whose name was Sylar, or something like that. He tried to kill Claire, and Peter intervened because of some heroin addict or something- Gretchen was trying to follow this whole thing, she really was, but it was so hard when the whole thing sounded like a Christopher Nolan movie.
To make a long story short, Sylar was an evil, evil man who reformed and somehow ended up fucking Claire's uncle. Evidently, Claire was missing some parts of the story.
"I can't believe he would betray me like this," Claire spits out, and Gretchen takes her hand and squeezes.
"Maybe you should go talk to him before jumping to conclusions, honey."
Claire stares back at her for several seconds before sighing.
"You're right. I should." She frowns and visibly slouches, leaning over enough to bury her face in Gretchen's shoulder.
"Sometimes I think the world is out to get me," she says, although it's a little muffled. Gretchen laughs.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," Claire replies, "But then I remember I have you."
Gretchen tilts her head so it's resting against Claire's.
"I feel special now."
Claire lifts her head up and smiles fondly.
"You should."
They finish the coffee and head back to Peter's apartment, where Sylar meets them at the door.
"He's on the roof," he says, motioning, and Claire disappears to the stairs to join her uncle, leaving Gretchen alone with the reformed killer.
"Would you like something to drink?" he offers, and Gretchen almost laughs at the absurdity.
"If I say yes, will you steal my backpack again?"
An almost imperceptible flush spreads across his cheeks and he shakes his head.
"I'm sorry about that. Really."
Gretchen shrugs.
"It's okay, I got it back in the end."
They settle at the kitchen table, and Gretchen leans back and crosses her arms.
"Is everyone in her family that dramatic all the time? Or is it just her?"
Sylar, or Gabriel, whatever he wants to be called his week, laughs.
"No, they're all like that. It must be the Italian blood."
Gretchen nods and studies the weird pattern on the formica table.
"Is it worth it? Loving someone like that?"
The man sitting across from her smiles as if remembering a good dream, looking off at something Gretchen can't see.
"Sometimes it's hard, and sometimes I want to hit him for being so stupid, but other times...it's like..." He trails off, and then laughs again. "Most times I just look at him and wonder how I got so lucky."
Gretchen smiles at the genuine emotion across Gabriel's face.
"So I know how you two met. When did you guys stop trying to kill each other and start...well..."
He looks up to meet her gaze and rubs a hand across his slicked back hair.
"He saved me from myself, and also, he broke me out of this guy's basement." He laughs at the way he must sound, before continuing. "I don't know about him but I knew I loved him when he brought me a book because my old copy fell apart."
Gretchen puts her head in her hands and nods.
"That's so cute it's almost disgusting."
"I know it is. I've gone so soft in my old age."
He sighs as if reminiscing, and Gretchen smirks.
"That's what happens when you're in love, right?"
"Yeah."
On the roof, Claire and Peter are talking. Well, Claire is yelling and Peter is staring off at the city like it's the most interesting thing he's ever seen.
When she seems to run out of things, he turns to her.
"Feel better?"
"No."
He sighs and pulls his bangs back with one hand.
"Claire, some things you won't understand. I don't expect you to. But I forgave Gabriel a long time ago, and I know he's changed. I see it every day."
Claire scoffs angrily.
"Oh, just like the time he joined the Company to work with my dad? We all saw how well that went. Especially after he killed my mom."
Peter's glare could cut through metal.
"You're too young to get this, Claire. I'm sorry you had to find out like this but nothing you say or do will stop me from being with him."
She tries to say something but he holds up a hand to stop her. They both stand there for a few minutes, not saying anything, until Claire says, very softly, "How long?"
Peter turns his head to look up at the stars up above.
"Seven years."
Claire's eyes widen almost comically and if it weren't for the situation, Peter would have laughed at it. But he doesn't and instead, elaborates.
"Matt Parkman locked him into a nightmare inside of his head. I knew from one of Ma's dreams that I needed to get him out so he could stop Samuel. But I didn't know how it worked and we got stuck together, inside our own minds, for five years."
"But you weren't...together then, were you?"
He shakes his head.
"No, I guess not. I didn't even talk to him without hitting him until the fourth year or so." He shrugs. "But things changed in there. I realized he was different, and after the carnival thing, he stayed with me."
"You've been together this whole time, for two years, and I never found out? How is this possible?"
Peter barks out a laugh that surprises the blonde.
"Let's just say we don't exactly advertise it. And also, Ma would rather die than let anyone know."
Claire stares down at the cars going by below them.
"Do you love him?" She asks, quietly, and Peter turns to stare.
"What?"
"Do you love him?"
He's silent for a moment and Claire turns to look at her uncle. His eyes, always so expressive, are sparkling with some emotion Claire is afraid to pinpoint.
Finally, he nods once.
"I love him more than I can bear, sometimes."
She watches his face for a few moments before turning back away.
"I'm not going to forgive him, you know."
She can almost hear Peter's sigh of relief, before he replies, "I don't expect you to."
They stand there for a little bit longer before Claire darts her head up.
"We left Gretchen alone with him!"
Peter frowns.
"He wouldn't."
She gives him a look and they both run very quickly down the stairs and into Peter's kitchen, only to find Gabriel and Gretchen laughing and doodling on some Post it notes like old friends.
"Oh, hi," Gretchen says, halfway through drawing a tiny giraffe kissing an incredibly large poodle. "What's up?"
There's a weird moment before Claire starts to laugh and laugh, and the other three pretend it isn't creepy.
But at least she hasn't tried to stab Gabriel in the eye yet, Peter muses. That must be progress.
0. It's very early in the morning and Peter is clutching Gabriel's hand like he might fall down if he didn't. They were returning from some little road trip to the country, trying to get some relaxation, but they had really gotten none of that, and for a second, Peter flushes with the memory.
Gabriel leans over and presses a kiss to Peter's temple.
"It was a good vacation, wasn't it?"
"It was," Peter agrees. "Too bad we had to cut it short."
They've reached their front door, and Peter leans heavily against the other man as he unlocks it. They've just gotten into the entry way when they hear some soft giggling and noises of movement.
They walk into the living room and come face to face with a shirtless Luke, holding a half empty bottle of Smirnoff in one hand and what appears to be someone's bra in the other. He stops dead in his tracks and stares, terrified.
Gabriel and Peter raise their eyebrows almost in unison, and Luke begins to stammer some excuse when who walks in wearing what appears to be nothing but a blanket but Amanda. As in Edgar's Amanda.
She flushes bright red and runs back into the bathroom, the door slamming behind her.
Luke turns back to look and turns bright tomato red.
"It would have been nice if you asked first," Peter shrugs, not even bothering asking how Luke got a key to their place.
"Are you going to tell Edgar?" Luke stammers, and Gabriel smiles quite like a shark.
"We could, or we could go get some breakfast and leave you two to figure that out for your own." He turns to Peter. "What do you think, darling?"
Peter mirrors his partner's smile, crossing his arms.
"Hmm, I think we should get breakfast and give Edgar a call then. See if that's enough time for these two to get as far away from here as possible."
Luke nods frantically.
"I'll do anything, anything you want, just please don't-"
The terrified look on his face is almost too much to bear and Peter reaches over to pat the younger man's head.
"We're just fucking with you. I could care less if he finds out."
He links his arm with Gabriel's and they head out to breakfast, leaving a very confused Luke behind.
"Why aren't we telling on him?" Gabriel asks, once they've gone a fair distance down the street, and Peter squeezes their hands together affectionately.
"Because we've been walked in on so many times and no one's told a soul. No reason we shouldn't return the favor."
Gabriel nods and slings an arm around Peter's shoulders.
"Yeah, I guess you're right. But if he pulls this again I'm going to call Edgar myself."
Peter laughs.
"Go ahead."
Rating: PG-13?
Characters/Pairings: Sylar/Peter, Hesam/Emma, Gretchen/Claire, Luke/Amanda, Edgar, Noah Bennett
Summary: Read the title. I know it's long.
Warnings: Unbeta'd.
Notes: Let's see, I got het, gay, and lesbian pairings plus humor and then some angst and random I don't even know what, plus a handful of characters that really aren't even on the show that much. Huh.
5. Hesam finds out about it like this:
The hospital's got a fundraiser going on, trying to raise funds for the new pediatric cancer ward, and for whatever reason, the theme is Grease. How he managed to convince Peter to take the night off so he could be his wingman is beyond him, but his partner does agree.
Somehow, they manage to coordinate some T-Bird costumes with some of the other medics, and Emma and some nurses dress as the Pink Ladies. It's all very cute and Hesam takes one look at the decorations and smiles. Maybe tonight could be a good night.
He's not surprised when Peter's roommate Gabriel comes along with him, dressed as a T-Bird as well, looking tall and just a little dangerous. Hesam's not sure if he likes him or not. But, Emma assures him that Gabriel is a good guy, so he believes her. He's always trusted her judgement, since she tends to notice things others don't.
They all dance and make fools of themselves, especially after all the alcohol they've been drinking, and Hesam thinks that tonight is a good night when he spots Emma sitting by herself. Being the gentleman that he is, he goes to sit by her.
"Hey you," he smiles, and she smiles back. For a second, Hesam forgets to breathe. But then he remembers the simple motion and continues to talk as if nothing was happening.
"Where's the Dynamic Duo?"
Emma shrugs.
"Probably went to get some air."
The medic nods, quickly scanning the room for his friends, but he can't find them. He takes the opportunity to ask Emma something she might know.
"Why does Pete have a roommate? It's not like he needs help paying the rent."
Emma puts her head in her hands and looks up at him from underneath long eyelashes. He mimics her postures and she smiles. Success.
"I think Gabriel is an old friend of Peter's, and he needed a place to stay. You know how he can be."
"Ah, yes. Peter 'I wear my heart on my sleeve' Petrelli. How noble of him."
The topic seems uninteresting as Hesam notices the way Emma is inching closer to him in her seat. He decides to change the subject.
"Has anyone ever told you how gorgeous you are?"
A few minutes later, Hesam starts to feel really good about the situation. It could just be the booze talking, but he's feeling pretty confident that he can ask Emma out on a date and maybe even kiss her. However, first he wants to make sure he looks his best before he puts the moves on her. He excuses himself and heads to the men's room. He's just gotten inside when he freezes, realizing he just walked in on two people fooling around.
However, it's not so much that two people are obliviously making out that's gotten to him. It's the fact that it's Peter on the counter, jacket off and pants undone, with Gabriel pressed between his legs, in a similar disheveled manner.
He coughs loudly and the love birds whip around quickly to see who the intruder was. Peter begins to flush profusely and Gabriel just arches an eyebrow, as if to say, yeah, what of it?
"I must say," Hesam babbles, completely not in control of his mouth, "That if Danny and Kanickie actually did make out in the movie, Grease would be a lot more interesting."
He frowns and turns, leaving the bathroom and heading back to Emma.
"Did you know," he announces, holding his hands up in disbelief, "That Peter and Gabriel are well into third base in the bathroom?"
Her eyebrows shoot up but a smile still spreads across her face.
"I knew it!"
They share a laugh before Hesam offers his arm.
"Since they ditched us to make out, it's only fair we return the favor."
Emma takes Hesam's arm, and together, they disappear out of the room, leaving a flustered Peter and Gabriel to look for them a few minutes later.
The next morning, Peter approaches a slightly hung over Hesam in the locker room.
"Look," he begins, but Hesam interrupts him.
"I couldn't give a fuck less that you're gay, Pete. In fact, according to guy etiquette, I'm actually supposed to congratulate you for getting some. So," He claps a hand on the other man's shoulder, "Congratulations."
Peter breathes out a sigh of relief and then starts to smile, slyly.
"I hear that I should return the favor. I know you've been pining after Emma for a while."
Hesam rubs the back of his head and shrugs.
"Well, here's hoping she realizes what an idiot I am and sticks with me anyway, right?"
A comforting hand is pressed to his shoulder.
"Don't talk about yourself like that. You're a good guy, and you two are cute together."
Hesam lets the sentiment sink in before he pushes the hand off.
"Come on, Mr. Sensitivity. Time to go to work."
4. Luke had no idea that the man he once looked up to as a mentor preferred the company of dark eyed brunettes with stupid bangs and a penchant for wearing all black. Really, he pegged him for the blonde, crazy type.
Well, actually, he wasn't too off on that one.
But anyway.
For whatever reason he had ran into Sylar again after he graduated from high school, and was slightly disappointed to find out that the older man was trying to find him to fucking apologize, which by the way, is totally not hardcore.
But he was looking for someplace to stay for a while, get away from his mom, and apparently there was a couch with his name on it back at Sylar's. Well, where Sylar was staying, anyway.
That's when he meets Peter Petrelli, a guy he's read about in the papers, first for being a Senator's brother, then for going missing, and finally, for being some sort of local hero. In person, Peter doesn't seem all that special. Especially not with that stupid hair cut.
But the guy grows on him, what with his subtle sense of humor and love of comic books. Plus, he's literally almost the nicest guy Luke has ever met.
Although honestly he knew that the two of them were fucking. They shared a bedroom and sometimes, Luke would catch Peter wearing a pair of Sylar's pants. He could always tell because Peter would have to roll up the bottoms. It was almost endearing, in a way.
What he had no idea, really, was that one day he'd come home from work (he'd gotten a job to start saving money for college, which Peter had somehow convinced him to go to) and overhear the two of them practically snuggling in the kitchen.
He didn't mean to just stand there and creep on them like some sort of pervert, but it's not like they were sucking each other's dicks or anything. (Well, not yet, anyway.)
In fact, Peter was sitting on the kitchen table with his feet on one of the chairs, and he had a cup of coffee in one hand while the other was occupied in tangling itself in Sylar's hair. He still had his uniform on, which means he had just gotten home from work. Sylar had one hand on either side of the seated man's hips and was busily planting light kisses on Peter's neck.
"Hmmm," Peter sighs, and Sylar laughs softly.
"You're so easy to please sometimes, honeybee."
Peter cracks an eye open.
"Don't call me that, or I swear to God-"
"Yeah, yeah," Sylar interjects, pulling away so he can look down on the other man. "You'll stab me in the eye. Or smother me in my sleep. Or God knows what other schemes you can come up with."
A sad look crosses Peter's face and he sets the mug down on the adjacent counter, so he can focus his full attention on the man in front of him.
"I'm never going to hurt you ever again, Gabriel. You know that." He reaches both hands up to gently cup the other man's face, and for a second, Luke wonders if he should loudly interrupt them like a jackass. Fortunately, the way Sylar's posture changes makes him close his mouth and lean in to hear better.
"I know," he says, softly, and he presses his forehead to Peter's. "I know."
"I love you," Peter is saying, and his voice sounds cracked and pained like it almost hurts to say the words, and Sylar's shoulders slump like being loved is almost overwhelming him.
Luke wonders if Sylar is going to say it back but the way the two of them are now kissing and groping each other, he would suppose that the other man does mean it back. He quietly counts off a minute in his head before turning around, opening the front door, and slamming it shut. When he walks into the kitchen, the two of them are sitting opposite at the table, coffee mugs in hand and looking as impeccable as ever.
"Good evening," Luke smiles knowingly, earning a weird look.
3. Noah Bennett considers himself to be a retired man. Even with the sudden popularity of his daughter and the suspicious acceptance of specials in the world, he tries his best to keep a level head.
But, when his old friend Angela Petrelli gives him a call and asks him to investigate some things for her, he has to think it over for a full minute before saying no. It's not until the next day when he gets a call from a very disturbed sounding Matt Parkman that he decides maybe a little bit of investigating is in order, after all.
He starts at the hospital where Peter works. When he's sure Peter is elsewhere, he carefully advances on the pretty blonde sitting at the desk, ear buds in ears. He remembers her from the carnival and knows she cannot hear, but he carefully approaches the desk and moves his hand to get her attention.
She must recognize him, because she smiles and looks up.
"You're Peter's friend, right?"
He nods and offers a hand.
"Noah Bennett. I was wondering if I can ask you some things?"
Her brows furrow for a moment but then she nods and he begins to talk, using some of the little sign language he does know to supplement his questions. When he's done, she just stares back with an amused expression.
"I'm afraid none of that is mine to tell, Mr. Bennett. I'm sorry."
She turns back to what she's doing and Noah starts to leave, but then his eye catches on a photo on her desk. It's her, Peter, and some guy with a beard. He vaguely recalls the other man to be Hesam, Peter's driver, and he decides to see if he might have a word with him.
Noah manages to catch up with Hesam when he leaves the hospital that night, jacket buttoned up tight against the nighttime chill.
"Hey," Hesam says, noticing Noah. "Emma told me you might be by."
"So you know what I'm going to ask?" Noah uses his best, soothing voice, but Hesam just laughs and shoves his hands in his pockets.
"I don't care why you want to know about this so badly but I'm not saying anything." He considers for a moment. "Is it his mom? Peter always said she was crazy."
Noah almost sighs but catches himself just in time.
"This is important. Peter is your friend, and there's a very good chance that the man he's living with is dangerous."
Hesam actually snorts.
"Gabriel? That man couldn't hurt a fly. Well, unless that fly was trying to hurt Peter. Then I think he'd kill the fly and dump its body in the Hudson." He laughs at his own joke, but when he sees Noah's unamused expression, shakes his head.
"You're going to need to do some more digging. I'm not going to give you anything."
He walks away, leaving Noah alone with one more option.
He finds Luke leaving the library at NYU with a backpack slung over one shoulder and a soda in hand.
"I hate you," Luke says, without preamble, and Noah fights the urge to roll his eyes.
"Look, I know you think Sylar is the greatest person on the face of the Earth," Noah begins, but Luke cuts him off.
"Gabriel is great. So is Peter, really. But that doesn't mean anything suspicious is going on. Two guys can live together without it being gay. Because I know that Peter's psycho mother and probably that one crazy mind reader guy put you up to this and I am not going to tell you anything."
Noah frowns.
"Do you all compare notes? I could have used this sort of efficiency back when I worked with the Company."
Luke glares daggers at him for mentioning it, and he briefly entertains the notion that Sylar and Peter were telling him about all the bad things that were happening to specials like them. Maybe that's why Luke had such animosity towards him.
"I have to go to class now. I must say this conversation has been a complete waste of time for me." He smiles. "Fuck off, Mr. Bennett."
He's gone before Noah has a chance to come up with a retort.
Running out of options and avoiding all phone calls from Angela, he heads straight to the source; Peter's apartment.
He's a little worried to find the door is open just a little, the latch caught, and he gently pushes the door open, hand at his hip and ready to draw his gun should the need arise.
However, he quickly discovers that's not necessary, because as soon as he walks into the living room he immediately regrets it. Mostly because Sylar is sprawled, naked, across the couch with an equally undressed Peter sitting on top of him. While Noah can't see specifics (and thank God for the backs of couches), he pretty much figures out what he just interrupted.
They both stare at him with the most annoyed expressions he never even knew were possible. He doesn't bother apologizing, and opts instead to head out of the apartment, shutting the door firmly behind him and heading to the nearest bar.
Of all the ways to find out about an affair, that had to be the worst, he decides, and tosses back some bourbon.
2. Maybe it was a bad idea, but Edgar kept the carnival together. They may not have performed or shown off as much as they did before, but it helped the Family to move around and explore, and he liked seeing new places.
What he didn't like, though, was this punk kid that Sylar- sorry, Gabriel- and Peter Petrelli had brought along with them when they came to visit. They were somewhere in New Jersey and his old friends had heard he was around and came over to see how things were going.
The kid, whose name Edgar did not care to learn, was hitting on Amanda, his Amanda whom Lydia left for him to take care of, and Edgar did not like it one bit.
He was always standing too close to her and she was laughing at everything he was saying and Edgar could see through it all. Amanda was a smart girl, and she was over eighteen by now, but that didn't mean she was allowed to just skip off with some punk who would take advantage of her.
Edgar decided he needed to put a stop to it.
While he's stewing over everything and throwing some of his knives to relieve some stress, he overhears his oldest two guests talking to each other. They reach him and Peter calls out, "You'd better be careful before you put someone's eye out."
He turns to face them and observes the scene in front of him. Peter is leaning against a railing, smiling with amusement at him, and Gabriel is standing next to him, looking relaxed and happy. Which was quite an improvement compared to their first meeting.
"Luke's a good kid," Gabriel explains, as if reading Edgar's mind, but Edgar is not convinced.
"I don't want him putting his lecherous hands on Amanda," Edgar growls, and Peter bites his lip to stop him from laughing.
"She can make decisions for herself, Edgar. She's grown up." He shrugs. "Although I'm sure she does appreciate this scary, threatening father thing."
That gets Edgar to stop.
"Father?"
Gabriel nods.
"She thinks of you as her father, and I must say, you're doing a lovely job of filling that job description. Lydia would be so proud."
At his lost love's name, Edgar's heart clenches, but he finds himself smiling, despite the tears that threaten to escape.
"Yeah, I guess she would. Thanks."
He's about to say something else when Teddy asks him, very politely, if he could come help him with something, and he follows his friend to his booth.
When he's all done with whatever errand he was doing (his mind was a little busy), he found himself all alone. A quick (and for him, it's very, very quick) dash around the camp shows no sign of Luke or Amanda, and he clenches his fist.
Oh, he would find them alright.
He searches until he comes to a trailer with closed curtains that he did not recall having before. He leans against the door and listens, and he has to stop himself from punching a hole through the door when he hears nothing but breathy moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin.
He throws the door open and yells, only to stop mid bellow to find someone he can only assume to be Peter, judging by the paramedic's polo, bent over the small table, pants down around his ankles, with Gabriel standing behind him, hands squeezing bruises into the other man's hips as his pants slouch just a bit on his hips. It's only a brief image but Edgar moves and in a nano second the door is shut again and he's leaning against it, eyes shut as he tries to rid the memory from his head.
"Sorry," he calls loud enough that the others might hear.
"You're forgiven," Gabriel's voice echoes back, "Although if you're looking for Luke and Amanda, they went to get some coffee down the street."
Edgar swears under his breath.
"Thanks. And, uh, carry on," he says, and the subtle slap of skin against skin tells him they took his advice. He shudders and heads off to find the other two love birds.
1. "Maybe we should have called first," Gretchen says, feeling Claire's hand squeeze in hers.
"I'm sure it'll be fine. It'll be a surprise." The blonde turns and smiles at her girlfriend, and Gretchen smiles back.
"Here's hoping we're the ones who aren't surprised."
Claire tsks and tugs more, replying, "You're always such a pessimist, Gretch. My uncle Peter is always very welcoming."
They turn the corner and Claire stops dead in her tracks, prompting Gretchen to look up. Standing outside the door that Gretchen can only assume is Peter's apartment is Peter (or at least the man Gretchen recognizes from photographs), pressed against that man who stole her back pack. Judging by the way they were kissing, Gretchen would say they knew each other better than Claire knew.
"Extremely welcoming," Gretchen quips, and the two men snap apart and whirl around. Peter's eyes widen almost in horror and he shoves the taller man away from him.
"Claire," he says, and Claire wrenches her hand from Gretchen's.
"How could you!?" she's screaming, and Peter tries to walk forward and touch her, but she's shaking her head.
"I trusted you, and you're sleeping with the enemy?" She doesn't wait for her reply and instead stomps off back the way they came.
Gretchen stands there, dumbfounded, before nodding her head once and waving weakly.
"Hi, I'm Gretchen, and now I have to go find my girlfriend before she makes a scene." She turns and disappears, leaving the two men to fend for themselves.
When she finally catches up with Claire, she's pouting (although she would never call it that to her face) in some Starbucks somewhere, nursing a caramel macciato and glaring at nothing in particular.
"Can I ask what just happened here?"
Claire looks up at her with those big blue eyes and sighs.
"It's a long story."
Gretchen reaches over, stealing the coffee and taking a drink.
"We have time."
So Claire explains how she met her uncle the same day she met the mysterious tall man, whose name was Sylar, or something like that. He tried to kill Claire, and Peter intervened because of some heroin addict or something- Gretchen was trying to follow this whole thing, she really was, but it was so hard when the whole thing sounded like a Christopher Nolan movie.
To make a long story short, Sylar was an evil, evil man who reformed and somehow ended up fucking Claire's uncle. Evidently, Claire was missing some parts of the story.
"I can't believe he would betray me like this," Claire spits out, and Gretchen takes her hand and squeezes.
"Maybe you should go talk to him before jumping to conclusions, honey."
Claire stares back at her for several seconds before sighing.
"You're right. I should." She frowns and visibly slouches, leaning over enough to bury her face in Gretchen's shoulder.
"Sometimes I think the world is out to get me," she says, although it's a little muffled. Gretchen laughs.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," Claire replies, "But then I remember I have you."
Gretchen tilts her head so it's resting against Claire's.
"I feel special now."
Claire lifts her head up and smiles fondly.
"You should."
They finish the coffee and head back to Peter's apartment, where Sylar meets them at the door.
"He's on the roof," he says, motioning, and Claire disappears to the stairs to join her uncle, leaving Gretchen alone with the reformed killer.
"Would you like something to drink?" he offers, and Gretchen almost laughs at the absurdity.
"If I say yes, will you steal my backpack again?"
An almost imperceptible flush spreads across his cheeks and he shakes his head.
"I'm sorry about that. Really."
Gretchen shrugs.
"It's okay, I got it back in the end."
They settle at the kitchen table, and Gretchen leans back and crosses her arms.
"Is everyone in her family that dramatic all the time? Or is it just her?"
Sylar, or Gabriel, whatever he wants to be called his week, laughs.
"No, they're all like that. It must be the Italian blood."
Gretchen nods and studies the weird pattern on the formica table.
"Is it worth it? Loving someone like that?"
The man sitting across from her smiles as if remembering a good dream, looking off at something Gretchen can't see.
"Sometimes it's hard, and sometimes I want to hit him for being so stupid, but other times...it's like..." He trails off, and then laughs again. "Most times I just look at him and wonder how I got so lucky."
Gretchen smiles at the genuine emotion across Gabriel's face.
"So I know how you two met. When did you guys stop trying to kill each other and start...well..."
He looks up to meet her gaze and rubs a hand across his slicked back hair.
"He saved me from myself, and also, he broke me out of this guy's basement." He laughs at the way he must sound, before continuing. "I don't know about him but I knew I loved him when he brought me a book because my old copy fell apart."
Gretchen puts her head in her hands and nods.
"That's so cute it's almost disgusting."
"I know it is. I've gone so soft in my old age."
He sighs as if reminiscing, and Gretchen smirks.
"That's what happens when you're in love, right?"
"Yeah."
On the roof, Claire and Peter are talking. Well, Claire is yelling and Peter is staring off at the city like it's the most interesting thing he's ever seen.
When she seems to run out of things, he turns to her.
"Feel better?"
"No."
He sighs and pulls his bangs back with one hand.
"Claire, some things you won't understand. I don't expect you to. But I forgave Gabriel a long time ago, and I know he's changed. I see it every day."
Claire scoffs angrily.
"Oh, just like the time he joined the Company to work with my dad? We all saw how well that went. Especially after he killed my mom."
Peter's glare could cut through metal.
"You're too young to get this, Claire. I'm sorry you had to find out like this but nothing you say or do will stop me from being with him."
She tries to say something but he holds up a hand to stop her. They both stand there for a few minutes, not saying anything, until Claire says, very softly, "How long?"
Peter turns his head to look up at the stars up above.
"Seven years."
Claire's eyes widen almost comically and if it weren't for the situation, Peter would have laughed at it. But he doesn't and instead, elaborates.
"Matt Parkman locked him into a nightmare inside of his head. I knew from one of Ma's dreams that I needed to get him out so he could stop Samuel. But I didn't know how it worked and we got stuck together, inside our own minds, for five years."
"But you weren't...together then, were you?"
He shakes his head.
"No, I guess not. I didn't even talk to him without hitting him until the fourth year or so." He shrugs. "But things changed in there. I realized he was different, and after the carnival thing, he stayed with me."
"You've been together this whole time, for two years, and I never found out? How is this possible?"
Peter barks out a laugh that surprises the blonde.
"Let's just say we don't exactly advertise it. And also, Ma would rather die than let anyone know."
Claire stares down at the cars going by below them.
"Do you love him?" She asks, quietly, and Peter turns to stare.
"What?"
"Do you love him?"
He's silent for a moment and Claire turns to look at her uncle. His eyes, always so expressive, are sparkling with some emotion Claire is afraid to pinpoint.
Finally, he nods once.
"I love him more than I can bear, sometimes."
She watches his face for a few moments before turning back away.
"I'm not going to forgive him, you know."
She can almost hear Peter's sigh of relief, before he replies, "I don't expect you to."
They stand there for a little bit longer before Claire darts her head up.
"We left Gretchen alone with him!"
Peter frowns.
"He wouldn't."
She gives him a look and they both run very quickly down the stairs and into Peter's kitchen, only to find Gabriel and Gretchen laughing and doodling on some Post it notes like old friends.
"Oh, hi," Gretchen says, halfway through drawing a tiny giraffe kissing an incredibly large poodle. "What's up?"
There's a weird moment before Claire starts to laugh and laugh, and the other three pretend it isn't creepy.
But at least she hasn't tried to stab Gabriel in the eye yet, Peter muses. That must be progress.
0. It's very early in the morning and Peter is clutching Gabriel's hand like he might fall down if he didn't. They were returning from some little road trip to the country, trying to get some relaxation, but they had really gotten none of that, and for a second, Peter flushes with the memory.
Gabriel leans over and presses a kiss to Peter's temple.
"It was a good vacation, wasn't it?"
"It was," Peter agrees. "Too bad we had to cut it short."
They've reached their front door, and Peter leans heavily against the other man as he unlocks it. They've just gotten into the entry way when they hear some soft giggling and noises of movement.
They walk into the living room and come face to face with a shirtless Luke, holding a half empty bottle of Smirnoff in one hand and what appears to be someone's bra in the other. He stops dead in his tracks and stares, terrified.
Gabriel and Peter raise their eyebrows almost in unison, and Luke begins to stammer some excuse when who walks in wearing what appears to be nothing but a blanket but Amanda. As in Edgar's Amanda.
She flushes bright red and runs back into the bathroom, the door slamming behind her.
Luke turns back to look and turns bright tomato red.
"It would have been nice if you asked first," Peter shrugs, not even bothering asking how Luke got a key to their place.
"Are you going to tell Edgar?" Luke stammers, and Gabriel smiles quite like a shark.
"We could, or we could go get some breakfast and leave you two to figure that out for your own." He turns to Peter. "What do you think, darling?"
Peter mirrors his partner's smile, crossing his arms.
"Hmm, I think we should get breakfast and give Edgar a call then. See if that's enough time for these two to get as far away from here as possible."
Luke nods frantically.
"I'll do anything, anything you want, just please don't-"
The terrified look on his face is almost too much to bear and Peter reaches over to pat the younger man's head.
"We're just fucking with you. I could care less if he finds out."
He links his arm with Gabriel's and they head out to breakfast, leaving a very confused Luke behind.
"Why aren't we telling on him?" Gabriel asks, once they've gone a fair distance down the street, and Peter squeezes their hands together affectionately.
"Because we've been walked in on so many times and no one's told a soul. No reason we shouldn't return the favor."
Gabriel nods and slings an arm around Peter's shoulders.
"Yeah, I guess you're right. But if he pulls this again I'm going to call Edgar myself."
Peter laughs.
"Go ahead."