Peter Petrelli (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
askedtobe) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sirenspull_logs2012-02-24 12:28 am
askedtobe) wrote in sirenspull_logs2012-02-24 12:28 am
Entry tags:
i'm your villain
Who: Peter & Sylar
When: The morning after Sylar's post
Where: Peter's apartment.
Summary: It's the morning after Peter's begun to harbor a fugitive and let strange things happen in the night. And now Peter's making breakfast..... things're sure to get interesting, yup.
Warnings: awkwardness? shenanigans? will change if necessary
[ Peter had woken up before Sylar, something he was in fact thankful for, for a variety of reasons. One of which was so that he could stare at Sylar for an unquestionable amount of time, and try to piece together the series of events that had led them to this. Sylar was still curled awkwardly on top of the sheets, though he'd settled slightly in his sleep and Peter just couldn't stop staring. Because somehow it seemed the more time he spent around him, the more human Sylar became. The more present, Peter's own constant. And looking at the other man while he slept, well -- there wasn't much monstrous about him.
Giving his head a shake and mussing his own hair, Peter slowly eases himself out of bed, trying to move slow so as not to wake his "company." Only after he's padded out of the bedroom does he breathe a little easier, pausing at the basket to give Mr. Muggles some scritches behind the ears before Tabitha mewls and wanders by for some morning cuddles as well. Peter's apartment: a little bit like a zoo; who knows where Denzel was hiding, waiting to pounce.
But after a few more seconds, Peter stands, yawns, and heads to the kitchen because in the morning, Peter's brain is gooey at best, and coffee is an absolute necessity. Setting up the machine to brew an exceptionally full pot, Peter folds his arms over his chest, already starting to twitch with Sylar out of his sight, something he's still too warm and sleep addled to try and think about.
Because as soon as it's done, Peter's pouring himself a cup and walking slow back towards the bedroom, where he leans against the doorframe and simply watches. Stares at the fact that there's another person in his bed, that he perhaps can't curl around, and his warm-fuzzy-morning-addled mind might be pouting a little at that fact. Breathing in the warm scent of caffeine, Peter knows he can find something better to do, like make toast, or read the paper. But instead he's rooted to the spot, waiting for the rousing of Sylar. ]
When: The morning after Sylar's post
Where: Peter's apartment.
Summary: It's the morning after Peter's begun to harbor a fugitive and let strange things happen in the night. And now Peter's making breakfast..... things're sure to get interesting, yup.
Warnings: awkwardness? shenanigans? will change if necessary
[ Peter had woken up before Sylar, something he was in fact thankful for, for a variety of reasons. One of which was so that he could stare at Sylar for an unquestionable amount of time, and try to piece together the series of events that had led them to this. Sylar was still curled awkwardly on top of the sheets, though he'd settled slightly in his sleep and Peter just couldn't stop staring. Because somehow it seemed the more time he spent around him, the more human Sylar became. The more present, Peter's own constant. And looking at the other man while he slept, well -- there wasn't much monstrous about him.
Giving his head a shake and mussing his own hair, Peter slowly eases himself out of bed, trying to move slow so as not to wake his "company." Only after he's padded out of the bedroom does he breathe a little easier, pausing at the basket to give Mr. Muggles some scritches behind the ears before Tabitha mewls and wanders by for some morning cuddles as well. Peter's apartment: a little bit like a zoo; who knows where Denzel was hiding, waiting to pounce.
But after a few more seconds, Peter stands, yawns, and heads to the kitchen because in the morning, Peter's brain is gooey at best, and coffee is an absolute necessity. Setting up the machine to brew an exceptionally full pot, Peter folds his arms over his chest, already starting to twitch with Sylar out of his sight, something he's still too warm and sleep addled to try and think about.
Because as soon as it's done, Peter's pouring himself a cup and walking slow back towards the bedroom, where he leans against the doorframe and simply watches. Stares at the fact that there's another person in his bed, that he perhaps can't curl around, and his warm-fuzzy-morning-addled mind might be pouting a little at that fact. Breathing in the warm scent of caffeine, Peter knows he can find something better to do, like make toast, or read the paper. But instead he's rooted to the spot, waiting for the rousing of Sylar. ]
no subject
I know. That's why I haven't.. kicked you out, yet. [ That wasn't wholly true, but at least it was a start. ]
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He kept his voice low, inoffensive.]
Is that all?
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[ Glancing back over his shoulder, Peter glared hard, turning just enough so that he didn't have to crane his neck uncomfortably to stare down Sylar. Peter knew he had lost this battle of a conversation, whatever it was, and all he could do now was look pissed off. Not that that earned him anymore points, but it was all he had.
And when it came down to it, he knew he didn't really have anything at all. ] What i'm letting you stay here for?
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That's what I asked. It's perfectly fine if you don't have an answer.
no subject
But he stays where he is, rocking his weight slightly. ]
You already know the answer, Sylar
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And Peter's desire. There was no doubt that played its part. It was undeniable what Peter felt for him, though it had been difficult to understand at first. It wasn't just about demonstrating power. It wasn't just about how ironically safe Peter felt with him.
It was all those things together. ]
Do you mind fixing the television before you hide in your room?
no subject
[ Obviously avoiding eye contact, Peter keeps one arm wrapped around himself while he lifts his other hand. It takes less than a second for all of the pieces to go whirring back together, slotting into place and fusing back together He doesn't even have to look at the television while he does it, but at the very least it's something to stare at for a few seconds.
But he's done this enough times now that he's already walking away by the time it's turning itself back on in fully functioning order and Peter even goes so far as to telekinetically drop the remote on the couch besides Sylar before he slams the door to his bedroom behind him. ]