(closed, incomplete)

[bomba_del_sesso]

WHO: Peter Petrelli and Adam Monroe.
WHAT: A lesson in history.
WHERE: Adam and Eve's.
WHEN: Day 165; late evening.

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[oh_immortal]

Waiting behind the door for Peter ever since he got the message through the journals that Peter indeed was abandoning his little quest and was going to come out of hiding in the bedroom, Adam only thought it appropriate to be waiting for him.

Waiting, ready to grab Peter and keep him out in the rather private open, if need be.

Just as the door opened, Adam was right there, looking at Peter and appearing as smug as always, "Hello, Peter."

[bomba_del_sesso]

Peter lied. The mustache really was fucking scary. Scary enough to have Peter's eyes widened, and scream in surprise, and almost jump back. It was the kind of mustache that was intimidating, and didn't belong there, and was saying with invisible lips, "I never sleep. I wait."

It was very disconcerting.

"Adam!" Peter exclaimed, clutching the door frame. "Don't do that."

[oh_immortal]

Peter's reaction of fear, screaming and jumping included along with it, and his gaze wasn't drifting away from the mustache at all.

Less the element of surprise, more the element of realization as he got a good look at it.

And Adam really hadn't thought the mustache was all that bad. Sure, it was a result of a drunken whim that was only capable of being a several-day-long (or so) sort of whim due to the sustaining of the drunkenness for that period of time, but still. He had pulled off the look so many years ago and pulled it off quite successfully in his own opinion as well as many others

[bomba_del_sesso]

Taking a deep breath, he let go of the door frame with Adam's assistance, and retreated into their room. Sitting at the edge of the bed, he folded his hands in his lap, and looked at Adam curiously as opposed to absolute horror.

It would have been appropriate for the time frame it was intended for. He definitely looked like a slave master...er. It was too bushy and curved at the end, making Adam look older than usual. Old enough to be his father, never mind the fact that he actually was, but that was a scary enough thought on its own.

"It's...different," Peter finally said, though very unsure of himself. "Is today special or something?"

[oh_immortal]

"You - .. did you just try to peel it off!?" Adam was genuinely scandalized by that. That Peter would go to such great lengths and try to actually take the thing off. "No peeling means no peeling!"

"I knew I shouldn't have built that bathroom. Now it's only working against me," Adam was sure even the Immortache was sulking at Peter right now.

IT SERVED HIM RIGHT.

"If I do this, you do realize I will need you there for emotional support, don't you?"

[bomba_del_sesso]

“Yes, I did,” Peter replied without emotion. The thing was offensive. It deserved to be degraded and peeled for all to see. Ridiculed in public to show everyone that mustaches were bad, especially on men like Adam Monroe.

How could he even grow one any way? The man was practically hairless on every other part of his body.

“You can cry on my shoulder when you’re done. How does that sound?”

[oh_immortal]

"The Immortache," Adam was going to try just one more tactic and hope it worked, "It is innocent. Just like a baby. It's only a few days old! I don't think it can survive out in the world without me. You always thought I should have more of a parental instinct and here it is. Sure, I might have been very drunk while the Immortache was conceived, but look. I've grown to care for it as if it is my own."

He really wasn't doing much in the way of not making Peter think the thing was alive, however. He should have thought that one through and maybe worded it so it didn't sound like a living thing growing from his face.

"Would you hold my hand? And perhaps let me cry on your shoulder at the loss of each and every single ounce of mustache?"

[bomba_del_sesso]

His heart melted. His brain fizzled. Truly an inspirational thing to say Adam. Truly. With that declaration, Peter‘s mind was made up.

“That’s it. I’m doing it myself.” He untangled himself from Adam, hopping off the bed, and walking to the bathroom conjoining their bedroom. Flicking the light on, Peter began searching through the cabinets for the shaving blade and cream. Why did they have to both be so damn unorganized?