Bricks in the Wall, Chapter 47: Good Morning
Title: Good Morning
Characters: Sylar, Peter
Rating: G
Words: 250
Summary: Sylar contemplates what it means that Peter can’t pass by his bed without giving him a ‘good morning’ kiss.
Notes: I’m posting this as a Brick, but it could just as easily be set post-series.
Quiet steps padded back from the bathroom. Sylar lay on the bed, breathing deep and regular, feigning sleep out of deep-seated habit of deception. He’d been lying there enjoying listening to Peter shower and go about his morning routine, noises at the sink muffled by the shut door. After so long alone in the silence of a world without end, even the sound of someone brushing their teeth was a symphony beyond measure.
The steps hesitated next to the bed, making Sylar wonder what expression graced Peter’s features. What face did he wear when he thought Sylar couldn’t see him? Did he regret putting aside his vengeance and taking his brother’s killer to his bed? There was a motion; he heard a slight rustle of clothes. Peter’s breath stirred a few hairs on his forehead and Sylar strained not to react to the ticklish sensation. Soft lips laid the most gentle, tender kiss on his temple. Peter inhaled a generous draught of his scent and drew away.
Sylar’s heart soared as the steps faded off towards the kitchen, quietly closing the bedroom door behind him. So that was what Peter did when no one was watching. Sylar stretched, luxuriating in the distant sounds of Peter tinkering with the coffee pot and then moving on to fixing breakfast. He didn’t stop the smile from lighting up his face. Peter made him feel so special and lucky - more than any ability ever would.
Characters: Sylar, Peter
Rating: G
Words: 250
Summary: Sylar contemplates what it means that Peter can’t pass by his bed without giving him a ‘good morning’ kiss.
Notes: I’m posting this as a Brick, but it could just as easily be set post-series.
Quiet steps padded back from the bathroom. Sylar lay on the bed, breathing deep and regular, feigning sleep out of deep-seated habit of deception. He’d been lying there enjoying listening to Peter shower and go about his morning routine, noises at the sink muffled by the shut door. After so long alone in the silence of a world without end, even the sound of someone brushing their teeth was a symphony beyond measure.
The steps hesitated next to the bed, making Sylar wonder what expression graced Peter’s features. What face did he wear when he thought Sylar couldn’t see him? Did he regret putting aside his vengeance and taking his brother’s killer to his bed? There was a motion; he heard a slight rustle of clothes. Peter’s breath stirred a few hairs on his forehead and Sylar strained not to react to the ticklish sensation. Soft lips laid the most gentle, tender kiss on his temple. Peter inhaled a generous draught of his scent and drew away.
Sylar’s heart soared as the steps faded off towards the kitchen, quietly closing the bedroom door behind him. So that was what Peter did when no one was watching. Sylar stretched, luxuriating in the distant sounds of Peter tinkering with the coffee pot and then moving on to fixing breakfast. He didn’t stop the smile from lighting up his face. Peter made him feel so special and lucky - more than any ability ever would.