Sylar was shuddering, sopping wet and feeling it, and there was as much blood on him as there was on Peter, but it was all over. It was over for now, at least. There was still the possibility that the shaking would come back, that he would die all over again, but for the moment there was peace.
At least until Peter came back, splashing and flailing and gasping.
Sylar was almost as exhausted as Peter was, and he made a prefunctory attempt at keeping the other man still. Fortunately he didn't flail too far, and after a moment he sank sidewards into him, and pressed his face against his chest, and Sylar dropped his hands down across Peter's shoulders and just exhaled.
A long minute passed, and with it the hot water, and Sylar reached up to smack the water off, shivering from the downpour of ice cold water. He looked up at the wall beside the sink and wondered if he could reach the towels without moving. If he only had his powers...
He was stroking Peter's back, rubbing heat into him instinctively as the warm blood-stained water they were sitting in spiralled away down the plughole, his chin in the other man's sopping wet hair.
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At least until Peter came back, splashing and flailing and gasping.
Sylar was almost as exhausted as Peter was, and he made a prefunctory attempt at keeping the other man still. Fortunately he didn't flail too far, and after a moment he sank sidewards into him, and pressed his face against his chest, and Sylar dropped his hands down across Peter's shoulders and just exhaled.
A long minute passed, and with it the hot water, and Sylar reached up to smack the water off, shivering from the downpour of ice cold water. He looked up at the wall beside the sink and wondered if he could reach the towels without moving. If he only had his powers...
He was stroking Peter's back, rubbing heat into him instinctively as the warm blood-stained water they were sitting in spiralled away down the plughole, his chin in the other man's sopping wet hair.