Bricks in the Wall, Chapter 85: Corny Bits
Title: Three Corny Drabbles
Characters: Peter, Sylar
Words: 300
Rating: R
Warnings: None
Setting: The Wall
Summary: Exactly what the title says.
His arm aching from all the throwing and catching he'd done, Peter flopped down on the curb next to Sylar, watching as the man deftly rotated two baseballs with the long, slender fingers of one hand. Around and around they went. Sylar frowned at them, saying, "For some reason, I thought playing with your balls would be more fun." He was so deadpan it was funny.
Peter smiled and gave him a playful nudge on the shoulder, causing Sylar to catch one ball with each hand as he lost balance and dropped them. "Come on, then. Let's go find out."
"Do you know why I slept with half of New York?" Peter asked, his fingers slowly sliding across Sylar's sweat-slicked shoulders as they lay next to one another, post-coital. He hadn't really had so many partners, but Sylar seemed unhappy with the number in any case. The sex they had had with one another had been everything Peter had hoped for and more.
"Mm," Sylar rumbled. "Why would that be?"
Peter shifted, folding his hands on Sylar's hairy chest and resting his chin atop them. Drunk on endorphins, he gazed at his new lover. "Because I hadn't found you yet."
The best way Sylar could describe it was someone making love to his hand. Peter kissed fingertips, sucked at sensitive digits, and rubbed his face against Sylar's palm. The side of his nose slid up the heel of Sylar's hand to his watchstrap, where Peter unexpectedly swiped his tongue across the watchface. Sylar jumped. Peter looked up deviously. "I don't think that's a Sylar at all."
"What?" Sylar sputtered indignantly at Peter doubting the article's provenance.
"It took a licking and kept on ticking." Peter pressed the back of Sylar's hand to his cheek lovingly. "It's gotta be a Timex."