Heroes15; Drabble 014: Forbidden
Title: Color Me Red
Author: jack_infinitude
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I don’t own Heroes. If I did...well, you know.
Pairings: Peter/Sylar
Table/Prompt: Table 2/13: Forbidden
Word Count: 361 words
Summary: Pomegranates have always been forbidden.
Author's Notes: Peter/Sylar, as is my claim.
*****
The pomegranate fit Sylar’s hand neatly; the weight was heavy and reassuring in his palm. He liked that, just as he liked the correctness of the hotel room chair supporting him, just as he liked the symmetric patterns engraved on the glass bowl that sat in front of him.
Carefully, he traced a finger down the blushing skin. It split slowly, red juices bleeding outwards.
That most certainly reminded him of something, he thought. He looked over at the bed. Peter was still asleep, sheets and comforter covering him.
He turned his attention back to the fruit. Carefully, he lay the cut pomegranate in the bowl. Slowly, the fruit fell open, revealing the hundreds -- thousands? -- of seeds within.
Pomegranates, the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge, which had been denied to the First Man and First Woman. But they had broken the law, and had gained knowledge of death and desire.
Desire. Oh, yes.
Sylar looked at the bed again. He licked his lips and glanced back at the bowl. He lifted a seed from inside the fragile shell, and settled it in his hand. It stained his palm scarlet. That amused him.
He popped it into his mouth; sweetness exploded as he bit down, making him shudder.
Maybe Peter would like some.
He stood, forbidden seeds of forbidden fruits spilling in the glass bowl. He picked it up and carried it to the side of the bed. To use on Peter, to cast a spell, to lay a curse.
Persephone, daughter of Demeter had eaten the seeds in the Underworld, in the garden of Hades. And now, she had to travel below the earth, for she had partaken in a repast that was not of her world. That was the reason for winter.
Sylar put the bowl down on the nightstand. Carefully, he sat on the edge of the bed and touched Peter’s bare shoulder.
The man shifted, and turned on his back. He smiled when he saw Sylar’s face. “Hello,” he said sleepily.
“Hello,” the former watchmaker replied solemnly. He leaned down. Peter’s arms slipped around his neck.
“I brought breakfast,” Sylar murmured before they started kissing.
*****
Author: jack_infinitude
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I don’t own Heroes. If I did...well, you know.
Pairings: Peter/Sylar
Table/Prompt: Table 2/13: Forbidden
Word Count: 361 words
Summary: Pomegranates have always been forbidden.
Author's Notes: Peter/Sylar, as is my claim.
*****
The pomegranate fit Sylar’s hand neatly; the weight was heavy and reassuring in his palm. He liked that, just as he liked the correctness of the hotel room chair supporting him, just as he liked the symmetric patterns engraved on the glass bowl that sat in front of him.
Carefully, he traced a finger down the blushing skin. It split slowly, red juices bleeding outwards.
That most certainly reminded him of something, he thought. He looked over at the bed. Peter was still asleep, sheets and comforter covering him.
He turned his attention back to the fruit. Carefully, he lay the cut pomegranate in the bowl. Slowly, the fruit fell open, revealing the hundreds -- thousands? -- of seeds within.
Pomegranates, the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge, which had been denied to the First Man and First Woman. But they had broken the law, and had gained knowledge of death and desire.
Desire. Oh, yes.
Sylar looked at the bed again. He licked his lips and glanced back at the bowl. He lifted a seed from inside the fragile shell, and settled it in his hand. It stained his palm scarlet. That amused him.
He popped it into his mouth; sweetness exploded as he bit down, making him shudder.
Maybe Peter would like some.
He stood, forbidden seeds of forbidden fruits spilling in the glass bowl. He picked it up and carried it to the side of the bed. To use on Peter, to cast a spell, to lay a curse.
Persephone, daughter of Demeter had eaten the seeds in the Underworld, in the garden of Hades. And now, she had to travel below the earth, for she had partaken in a repast that was not of her world. That was the reason for winter.
Sylar put the bowl down on the nightstand. Carefully, he sat on the edge of the bed and touched Peter’s bare shoulder.
The man shifted, and turned on his back. He smiled when he saw Sylar’s face. “Hello,” he said sleepily.
“Hello,” the former watchmaker replied solemnly. He leaned down. Peter’s arms slipped around his neck.
“I brought breakfast,” Sylar murmured before they started kissing.
*****