A really random fic.
Fic: Fun in Trailer (Or, In Which Edgar Has Not Had Enough to Drink.)
Rating: PG-13ish.
Characters/Pairings: Sylar/Peter, Edgar
Summary: The boys are causing trouble in Edgar's trailer. Again.
Warnings: Implied sex and some swearing. Possibly out of character. Who knows.
Notes: This scene came in my head and I wrote it down. Let's pretend it's in a world where Edgar still runs the carnival, and for whatever reason he and Peter are sort of friends who keep picking on each other.
..Yeah.
"I can tell your fortune, you know."
Peter's eyes are lit up and he seems to be in a much better mood than before, although the shower and some food probably helped a lot. He was sitting across from Gabriel in the small breakfast nook of one of the carnival's trailers, and Gabriel can't help it. He raises an eyebrow.
"Oh yeah? And how are you going to do that?"
Without even missing a beat, he replies, "I can read palms."
He extends a hand across the rickety table, beckoning, and Gabriel reaches over and lays his own hand palm up on top of Peter's. It feels easy, this contact, and he watches with amusement as his palm is dutifully inspected.
"Your life line is extremely long. But that's a given," Peter explains, gently tracing a finger down across a crease, and Gabriel has to steel himself to keep from shivering at the contact. Peter moves to a different line, this time tapping it gently.
"Looks like you're going to become a famous marine biologist who studies dolphins," he muses, and Gabriel snorts.
"That's a given too, since I obviously like dolphins."
Peter just smiles a smug smile and non too-subtley shifts his leg under the table until it's pressed between the taller man's own legs. Deciding that two can play at this game, Gabriel scootches across the U-shaped bench they were sitting on, until their knees bumped together. At Peter's confused expression, he explains, "Just wanted to make sure you were close enough to see my palm properly."
It takes a moment, but Peter seems to regain his composure as he nods, "The lighting in here is terrible."
Turning his attentions back to the matter at hand (literally), Peter rubs at another line, saying softly, "This one tells me that you're going to have good fortune very soon." He moves his to the center of Gabriel's palm, covering the entirety of the other man's palm with his own. "And this one tells me that you're going to kiss me now."
No sooner are the words out of Peter's mouth that Gabriel is ducking down and pressing their lips together. This suits the medic just fine, however, as he promptly tries to crawl into Gabriel's lap, but the table in the middle of the booth is in the way and he somehow ends up climbing on top of it, legs hanging off the side and bracketing Gabriel, who almost cheers when he succeeds in tugging Peter down on to his lap, where he meets some very delicious friction.
Just as things are getting pretty hot and heavy, though, the door bangs open and they hear a very exasperated, very English "Oh bloody hell, really?"
Peter moves only enough to turn his head and stare at poor Edgar, who looks really upset that his two guests have decided to turn his breakfast nook in his trailer into a love nest.
"If it makes you feel better," Gabriel offers, "This wasn't planned at all."
"That doesn't help at all," comes the reply, and then the speedster is crossing his arms and starts to stare at them expectantly. When neither of them move, he throws his arms up in frustration.
"What are you waiting for, an invitation? Get out of here!"
It's Peter who speaks, this time.
"Uh...I can't move. We're stuck."
He demonstrates this by trying to shove up and away, only to hit the table and come sliding back down, making the two men groan at the movement. Edgar, for the most part, looks like he's going to pass out. After several more unsuccessful attempts with similar results, eventually, the owner of the trailer they're in just gives up, stalking out with a shouted "I'm not drunk enough to see this!" and then they're alone again.
Peter's about to suggest something when the table moves just slightly and he's able to get off Gabriel and stand up. Realizing what just happened, the medic grins and tugs Gabriel up with him, and starts to lead him towards the spacious bed in the back.
"Let's go fool around on his bed," he suggests, and at the other man's look, adds, "It'll be payback for the time he tried to kill me."
Apparently this is a good enough reason because Gabriel follows, shutting the partition shut behind him. A few hours later, Peter opens his eyes from his little cat nap to see Edgar sitting at the breakfast nook, chugging from a large bottle. Without even turning his head, the speedster growls, "I hate you. I'm never going to be able to sleep in there again without thinking of the two of you-" he stops talking in favor of taking another swig and then Gabriel holds up his hand long enough to shut the partition again before dropping back to sleep.
Settling back down, Peter decides maybe he can come to like carnivals after all.
Rating: PG-13ish.
Characters/Pairings: Sylar/Peter, Edgar
Summary: The boys are causing trouble in Edgar's trailer. Again.
Warnings: Implied sex and some swearing. Possibly out of character. Who knows.
Notes: This scene came in my head and I wrote it down. Let's pretend it's in a world where Edgar still runs the carnival, and for whatever reason he and Peter are sort of friends who keep picking on each other.
..Yeah.
"I can tell your fortune, you know."
Peter's eyes are lit up and he seems to be in a much better mood than before, although the shower and some food probably helped a lot. He was sitting across from Gabriel in the small breakfast nook of one of the carnival's trailers, and Gabriel can't help it. He raises an eyebrow.
"Oh yeah? And how are you going to do that?"
Without even missing a beat, he replies, "I can read palms."
He extends a hand across the rickety table, beckoning, and Gabriel reaches over and lays his own hand palm up on top of Peter's. It feels easy, this contact, and he watches with amusement as his palm is dutifully inspected.
"Your life line is extremely long. But that's a given," Peter explains, gently tracing a finger down across a crease, and Gabriel has to steel himself to keep from shivering at the contact. Peter moves to a different line, this time tapping it gently.
"Looks like you're going to become a famous marine biologist who studies dolphins," he muses, and Gabriel snorts.
"That's a given too, since I obviously like dolphins."
Peter just smiles a smug smile and non too-subtley shifts his leg under the table until it's pressed between the taller man's own legs. Deciding that two can play at this game, Gabriel scootches across the U-shaped bench they were sitting on, until their knees bumped together. At Peter's confused expression, he explains, "Just wanted to make sure you were close enough to see my palm properly."
It takes a moment, but Peter seems to regain his composure as he nods, "The lighting in here is terrible."
Turning his attentions back to the matter at hand (literally), Peter rubs at another line, saying softly, "This one tells me that you're going to have good fortune very soon." He moves his to the center of Gabriel's palm, covering the entirety of the other man's palm with his own. "And this one tells me that you're going to kiss me now."
No sooner are the words out of Peter's mouth that Gabriel is ducking down and pressing their lips together. This suits the medic just fine, however, as he promptly tries to crawl into Gabriel's lap, but the table in the middle of the booth is in the way and he somehow ends up climbing on top of it, legs hanging off the side and bracketing Gabriel, who almost cheers when he succeeds in tugging Peter down on to his lap, where he meets some very delicious friction.
Just as things are getting pretty hot and heavy, though, the door bangs open and they hear a very exasperated, very English "Oh bloody hell, really?"
Peter moves only enough to turn his head and stare at poor Edgar, who looks really upset that his two guests have decided to turn his breakfast nook in his trailer into a love nest.
"If it makes you feel better," Gabriel offers, "This wasn't planned at all."
"That doesn't help at all," comes the reply, and then the speedster is crossing his arms and starts to stare at them expectantly. When neither of them move, he throws his arms up in frustration.
"What are you waiting for, an invitation? Get out of here!"
It's Peter who speaks, this time.
"Uh...I can't move. We're stuck."
He demonstrates this by trying to shove up and away, only to hit the table and come sliding back down, making the two men groan at the movement. Edgar, for the most part, looks like he's going to pass out. After several more unsuccessful attempts with similar results, eventually, the owner of the trailer they're in just gives up, stalking out with a shouted "I'm not drunk enough to see this!" and then they're alone again.
Peter's about to suggest something when the table moves just slightly and he's able to get off Gabriel and stand up. Realizing what just happened, the medic grins and tugs Gabriel up with him, and starts to lead him towards the spacious bed in the back.
"Let's go fool around on his bed," he suggests, and at the other man's look, adds, "It'll be payback for the time he tried to kill me."
Apparently this is a good enough reason because Gabriel follows, shutting the partition shut behind him. A few hours later, Peter opens his eyes from his little cat nap to see Edgar sitting at the breakfast nook, chugging from a large bottle. Without even turning his head, the speedster growls, "I hate you. I'm never going to be able to sleep in there again without thinking of the two of you-" he stops talking in favor of taking another swig and then Gabriel holds up his hand long enough to shut the partition again before dropping back to sleep.
Settling back down, Peter decides maybe he can come to like carnivals after all.