Bricks in the Wall, Chapter 66: Fragile
Title: Fragile
Characters: Sylar, Peter Petrelli
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Word count: 700
Setting: The Wall
Summary: Sylar takes offense and then gives it, while in that delicate, not-yet-sure-where-you-stand early period in a relationship.
"Baby, I didn't mean-"
Sylar's snort of displeasure cut Peter off. Before Peter could resume the irritating defense of himself, Sylar snapped, "Why do you always call me 'baby' anyway?" It was something Peter had started doing since they'd been sleeping together, which was only a few days ago. Their relationship was in serious flux. It seemed like even the smallest thing set them off anymore.
Peter hesitated, his face showing that he knew he was in hot water. Sylar found the pause suspicious, but Peter's words didn't lag long enough to make Sylar think he was lying - not outright, at least. Peter pursed his lips and tilted his head in a conciliatory gesture as he said, "Because you're precious, you're innocent, and I want to take care of you." When Sylar only glared at him, Peter's expression faded to hurt and guarded.
Sylar wasn't sure whether to be offended or … he supposed Peter intended flattery with that pap, but he wasn't sure. He growled, "I'm hardly 'innocent'."
Peter sulled up and took a half-step away from him. But he gamely persisted in painting Sylar in the best possible colors. "If you had been given different choices by life, you would have made different decisions. You aren't responsible for what happened to you." His voice softened towards the end.
"But I am responsible for the decisions I made," Sylar said insistently, angry all over again. Peter wasn't taking him or his past seriously. He was mocking it with this 'baby' business. It was insulting.
Peter's head pulled back. Otherwise, he didn't move for a few moments, but his eyes showed the hurt. Finally, he said, "I respect that." He looked away and down, withdrawing into himself.
I am an idiot! Sylar thought as he realized he was stupidly trying to get Peter to admit Sylar was an irredeemable monster. Peter's only sin at the moment was wanting to entertain the fantasy that Sylar was worth loving. And so what if Peter's fantasy included mild infantilization? It was better than imagining Sylar as guilty for all the wrongs he'd committed. Even Sylar knew that wasn't attractive - at least not to the sort of person he wanted to love him. And that was the issue. He didn't think he was worthy of the affection he'd been getting, and so he was running hot and cold to Peter every second since he'd finally convinced the Italian to bed him. He went to Peter, raising his hands to cup either of Peter's cheeks, painfully aware of the flinch away from him. "I'm sorry." Sylar kissed him tenderly and Peter stood for that.
Peter kissed him back dutifully, then turned his face to the side to say thickly, "It's not your fault. I got my feelings hurt, but I'm a big boy, like you always say. It'll be fine."
Ah! He'd been engaged in the same name-calling and not realized that, either. "I'm-" he cut himself off from another useless apology and substituted something better to say, but harder. "I'm a … baby. Don't stop …" He paused to choke on his pride, hoping Peter could fill in the blanks. Clearing his throat, he tried to change the subject, at least a little. "You want to take care of me?"
Peter turned his face back to him, looking up at him with wary hope. He touched Sylar's sides - a light, tentative contact, like he was testing. "I like taking care of people."
Sylar leaned into him gratefully, breathing out in relaxation as Peter slipped his arms around him. It felt like something might break inside of him and he needed Peter holding him to keep it safe. "You take such good care of me," he murmured into Peter's hair, shutting his eyes and letting the tension bleed away.