The Opposite of Empath
Title: The Opposite of Empath
Characters: Gabriel (Sylar) Gray/Peter Petrelli
Rating: PG
Word count: 200
Setting: Inside the Wall
Summary: Peter isn't always so empathic and smooth.
Inspired by game_byrd's Heroes Rewatch comment (S1 "Collision") over at heroes_fic: What would happen if Peter tried to pull the super-blunt, well-meaning, honest question he did while in bed with Simone in S1 with Sylar inside the Wall? Cue ficlet.
It wasn’t the first time they’d slept together, or even slept together literally. The feeling was still new and glorious, waking up together, touching, warm and intimate in the morning. There was a surprising amount of smiling and laughter, Sylar found.
One morning, Sylar was propped up to read as Peter still slept beside him, trusting him, with him. Peter made a cute waking-up noise and rolled over to stretch. “Hmm,” he said when he saw he wasn’t alone. Sylar looked with affection at the unintentional bedhead and smooth, muscled chest as Peter sat up. His eyes returned to the page.
“Am I the first man you’ve ever been with?” Peter blurted out, so casual, innocent, and curious.
Sylar stopped reading and looked up straight ahead. He didn’t answer, but instead replaced his bookmark and closed his book, setting it aside. He leaned unhurriedly to the side then sat vertical for all of a second. His next move was a swift, sneak attack, smacking Peter upside the head with a pillow, “Oomph!”
“And people say I have no tact,” Sylar remarked and took up his book again, like nothing had happened.
Characters: Gabriel (Sylar) Gray/Peter Petrelli
Rating: PG
Word count: 200
Setting: Inside the Wall
Summary: Peter isn't always so empathic and smooth.
Inspired by game_byrd's Heroes Rewatch comment (S1 "Collision") over at heroes_fic: What would happen if Peter tried to pull the super-blunt, well-meaning, honest question he did while in bed with Simone in S1 with Sylar inside the Wall? Cue ficlet.
It wasn’t the first time they’d slept together, or even slept together literally. The feeling was still new and glorious, waking up together, touching, warm and intimate in the morning. There was a surprising amount of smiling and laughter, Sylar found.
One morning, Sylar was propped up to read as Peter still slept beside him, trusting him, with him. Peter made a cute waking-up noise and rolled over to stretch. “Hmm,” he said when he saw he wasn’t alone. Sylar looked with affection at the unintentional bedhead and smooth, muscled chest as Peter sat up. His eyes returned to the page.
“Am I the first man you’ve ever been with?” Peter blurted out, so casual, innocent, and curious.
Sylar stopped reading and looked up straight ahead. He didn’t answer, but instead replaced his bookmark and closed his book, setting it aside. He leaned unhurriedly to the side then sat vertical for all of a second. His next move was a swift, sneak attack, smacking Peter upside the head with a pillow, “Oomph!”
“And people say I have no tact,” Sylar remarked and took up his book again, like nothing had happened.