sirenspull | 013 } video

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013 } video

[ Peter rarely makes posts to the network with such express purpose, but when he shows up on the feed this time, he looks prepared. Like he's got a message. And he only glances off camera once, before he starts. ]

You know, been here almost a year and a half now. Place definitely takes a toll on a person after awhile. Especially when things at home don't exactly make it any easier to deal with the kind of things that go on here. If you let it, everything just kind of.. falls apart. [ He shrugs, grasping a little for the right words. Public speaking isn't his strong suit. ]

Doesn't mean it has to, though. I know more than a few people here have made allegiances with people they never would've thought to. Whatever gets you through, right? Makes it easier, helps keep you going? Didn't actually think i'd end up happy in this place, not after everything that's happened.

[ This time, when he looks off camera again, he lets his NV turn ... to an expectant Sylar, his dark gaze fixed on the device. He smiles, wryly, as though to say 'surprise'. ]

Makes a lot of sense, when you think about it. The people who remind you of home, who understand what it's like to be you better than anyone else does; you can't really pick and choose who those people are. Adversity makes strange bedfellows.

[ He quirks an offscreen glance toward Peter. ]

Everyone deserves a little happiness in their lives, don't you think? Someone to love. Something you'd kill to protect. [ He reaches out suddenly, viper-quick, pulling Peter back into view of the NV by dragging him into his lap, and surprising a smile out of him in the process. Sylar presses his nose into Peter's neck, buries his nose briefly into hair that has grown back mysteriously quickly, and then looks back at the screen mockingly. ]

Like this smile. Isn't it adorable? A man could kill for a smile like this.

[ But before Sylar can embarrass them both any further, Peter's fumbling for his NV and trying not to smile so much as he turns off the feed. ]

[ ooc; blue is Peter; red is Sylar. threadjacking is encouraged! ]

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[ Peter knew what Sylar was doing the moment he pressed closer and Peter closed his eyes almost sleepily. He wasn't much in the mood for doing this, but he would if Sylar wanted to. But before he could even start concentrating, Sylar pulled himself away and Peter blinked his eyes open once again, looking up at Sylar. ]

Not really. [ Curling his fingers in Sylars shirt, he gave the other man a gentle tug, trying to bring him closer again. ]

[ He exhaled with a shudder, tried to force down the wave of his own hunger, and instead let Peter pull him closer, pressing his nose gently into the curve of the other man's throat, inhaling his scent. There was no way out of it, not really, and putting his own needs aside was difficult. It wasn't usual for him at all, overcoming his own will, because before Peter he'd never had any reason to keep himself from killing given the opportunity.

He opened his eyes again, staring at Peter's profile slightly above him, his own head on the couch to his left, spoke with a soft wonder: ]

What do you know? You can stop me from killing.

[ Closing his eyes when Sylar had nuzzled against his throat, Peter couldn't really keep himself from clinging, situating himself underneath the other for optimal cuddle impact. Sylar wasn't the only one who'd been turned a little inside out by the days events, Peter just didn't want to kill anyone because of it. Mostly he just wanted to hide underneath the other man for a week or two.

Turning his face when Sylar spoke, Peter tried to wiggle a little closer. ]

Guess I can tell everyone that I can control you, now. [ Pushing his nose against Sylar's, almost in apology, Peter sighs. ] Next time we go on camera, you can ever wear the collar. Maximum impact.

[ He chuckles against Peter's lips, brushes the softest kiss there, also in apology, then lets his eyes open again. They were a little too close for his vision to be clear. ]

That would make it your fault when I get off the leash, wouldn't it? But maybe it'd make them feel better for just a little while.

[ He wrapped his arms the rest of the way around Peter, raising his chin so that he could kiss the centre of his forehead. ]

It wasn't about killing to start with; it was about being with you. Nothing else matters.

[ Apology accepted. ]

Everyone'll make it my fault one way or another. [ Peter just kind of shrugs, because that's what everyone made it sound like, at least. That no matter what happened it'd be his fault. As if he didn't understand the ramifications of his actions already, as if he didn't understand the meaning of the word guilt.

But he's trying to sound nonchalant more than concerned or worried or upset or anything else because this wasn't supposed to be about what other people thought. It was his turn to nose down against Sylar's throat as he sighed quietly. ]

And nothing's gonna change that. No matter what anyone says.

They will. [ He accepted it, and Peter accepted it. They'd made the decision when they'd started on this ride, made their way to real murder rather than imaginary murder. ] And they'll make your corruption mine. But we knew what we were doing.

[ Sylar tilted his head, pressing his nose deeper into the other man's hair, let out the softest sigh. ]

I don't care. You shouldn't either, but I know it's in your nature. You can't help it.

I'm working on it. [ And he was, all things considered, trying to make a very real effort to not let everyone's opinions bother him. Nobody had been around when he was falling apart, nobody had tried to stop and care after everything that happened.

So why should he let the fact that they hated him now, bother him? ]

But whether or not I care doesn't matter. It doesn't make me want anyone else. [ Head tucked down against Sylar's collar, Peter just breathed, keeping his movements quiet. ]

[ His smile was wry, and a little unhappy, but then Peter couldn't see it. The hurt radiated off him, and it was a hurt that other people had caused. It wasn't Peter's fault--he had only wanted to be happy. ]

I haven't been helping. I should have been helping you, trying to make it easier, not making things worse.

[ Sylar's eyes were open, fixed off on the opposite wall. ]

Here I am claiming to make you happy. Claiming to love you.

Hey. [ Peter pulled back, snapping his head up, nose nearly grazing Sylar's as he went. Brows knit together intently, Peter just stared at Sylar, though they were close enough that he had to keep from going cross-eyed. ]

I knew this was never gonna be easy, I made that decision. And you have been helping me, or did you forget?

[ Sylar tuned himself back in, flicking his gaze from the wall back down to Peter, and reached down toward him, stroked a hand back through his hair slowly. He wasn't very emotional as a default, but flickers of it were coming through now, so that only Peter could see them. Real, unselfish emotion. ]

I've been helping you. [ He wet his lips, warily, and nosed against Peter again, sighed against his mouth. ] But I've also been a terrible boyfriend. I'm not even trying to get along with your friends.

[ The joke is cover for the fact that he is being a hundred percent serious. ]

[ Tipping his head in towards Sylar's hand, Peter sighed, making a sound that was almost like a laugh but got stuck partway out, lost against the brush of the other man's mouth. Whether or not Sylar was overly emotional, didn't matter -- Peter took what he could get. ]

Yeah, well-- I wouldn't worry about it. They're not my friends anymore, they made that much clear. And the ones I didn't know aren't going to be anytime soon. Means you don't have to worry about getting along with them.

[ He did press in for a small kiss after that, a quick pressing of lips. ] You can try if you want to now, but it's not your responsibility.

[ Little kisses, gentle gusts of breath, sometimes they said more than all the intimacy in the world, or all the words. Sylar closed his eyes again, letting go of some of the tension he was feeling, relaxing his shoulders, though it did little to unknot the iron bar in his spine. ]

Did you really pick up McCoy's power? I taught him that.

[ That was a valiant subject change and Peter sighs quietly against Sylar's mouth, curling a hand around his neck to keep him right where he can press a singularly firm kiss to his mouth. He's not entirely sure which one of them feels worse, but the fact that Sylar feels bad... Peter doesn't entirely know what to do with. ]

You did? [ That one earns Sylar another kiss, though this one is softer. ] We... only sort of planned a meeting at the hospital, just happened to work out.

[ Yes he's a real Lancelot. But it gets him more kisses, and in retaliation he tangles his fingers in Peter's hair again. They're all elbows and mouths and hair, and that's just fine. ]

I stabbed a waitress and tried to make him heal her. It wasn't exactly a success, but you could see it working... [ An exhale, because he'd been deliberately not trying to talk about the hunger. ] I sought him out for you. I thought if you could heal people with a touch, maybe you could be the hero you want to be. The hero you should have been from the beginning.

[ Especially with that story about stabbing waitresses, Peter still shouldn't find you so damn endearing, Sylar. But he's still only fractions of an inch away from Sylar's face which makes it really hard to keep from kissing him, breaths ghosting against the other man's mouth. ]

I'm not sure a healing touch is gonna make me be a hero in anyone's eyes anymore. But i'll see what I can do.

[ Nosing against Sylar, he lifted an eyebrow, speaking into another kiss. ] If you don't stab any more waitresses.

[ Sylar gives the slightest shake of his head, because it was never really about other people. He settled his hands again, just lying quietly still, replying to each of Peter's kisses with his own. This gentle bonding is only natural after the turmoil of the last few hours, the tense arguments, the high emotions. A way of smoothing things back to a more managable level. ]

I promise not to stab any more waitresses. And you know it doesn't matter what they think. If you do this, then you aren't doing it for the glory, you're doing it to help people.

[ It's far easier to concentrate on the simplicity of this and Sylar and them when Sylar's less than an inch away from his own face. It gives Peter a focal point, a way to block everything else out and leave them both with only each other and not every single argument they had to make. ]

I know it doesn't matter what they think, but if i'm going to be doing this -- [ Considering he's not entirely sure what 'this' entails ] -- then people are gonna have to like me enough to let me get close. Guess they don't really have to be able to see me, though.

[ He tilts his head slightly. ]

That's the spirit. Unless...

[ He reaches across with his free hand, tracing his thumb underneath Peter's eye, flicks his gaze up, then back down again. ]

You wouldn't be the only one in the Port who had a secret identity. You know, like the Flash. "My name is Wally West. I'm the fastest man alive." Or is it Superman? You're more of a Superman's man, right?

[ Don't mind him. ]

[ Peter doesn't mind, not even remotely. He's just sort of staring at Sylar with vague amusement, dropping one of his hands to play against Sylar's shirt, for no reason other than giving his hands something to do. ]

Think there's more than enough people in the Port with alter-ego's. Think i'll just stick with nobody knowing it's me. Less potential for spandex.

[ He pauses only a second before giving Sylar a look. ] And i'm not wearing my scrubs as a costume.

[ Peter why you stomp on his dreams. ]

You'd seem a little silly running around the streets in spandex. Or scrubs. But that doesn't mean there isn't a costume - a uniform - that fits.

[ He already knows what he has in mind, and quietly he leans closer, brushes another kiss to Peter's lips. ]

We don't have to come up with all the answers now. We have all the time in the world.

[ Because Sylar's cute when he pouts? ]

I'll take your word for it.

[ Peter wasn't going to say to which point he was talking about -- maybe both, he wasn't even sure. Everyone's hard-wired pessimism had gotten under his skin, and he curled himself tighter in against Sylar to try and brush it all aside, sighing against another kiss. ]

[ Sylar knew the feeling. He'd been shaken a little too, and not just by Peter. He was going to die in his own timeline; Hiro had told him, Claire had told him. Even if with her coming back some things that had seemed clear to him no longer were. The truth was that somewhere down the line, his ship had already sailed. He didn't want to be taken home when he knew he'd die alone. Not when he was happy here. Not when... Not when he had Peter.

And so the pessimism had crept under his skin, too; the suggestion that he couldn't save himself, and that one day they'd be broken apart. Insisting was just his way of pretending that it was less true, when like his death, it was something inevitable. That was the way the future worked. ]

Hey-- [ It was time to reassure. ] --I'm still here, aren't I? You didn't think I'd even stay until morning before.

[ The last thing Peter needed for the time being was the reminder that Sylar was going to die. He'd tried to push it so far out of his stratosphere of thought that he told himself it didn't exist anymore. The future could be changed. He'd changed it twice now. Things would be different.

But now Peter didn't want to be here. And hell, he didn't much want to be at home either, but where else could they go? Leaving here wasn't just some kind of option like what you ate for dinner and Peter was worried and scared and frustrated and just... tired. But he could pretend that he didn't need to be reassured for once in his life. ]

I know, I didn't say anything.

You never have to.

[ He was looking him deeply in the eyes, but that was quite enough of that. They were both a little too delicate to be talking about any of this, and maybe if they left the dust settle, they could move on rather than circling the emotional plug hole.

Sylar leant forward to kiss him again, long and slow this time, and then with a distinct effort pulled himself a little higher, so that his head could balance on the armrest, leaving space for Peter to rest on his chest.

Sleep. Nothing will hurt so much in the morning. ]

[ Exhaling a hard breath, Peter knew he didn't have to say anything, not at this point. Sylar had became rather taken with finishing his sentences for him as of late, and so the words were usually pulled out of his mind before he'd even gotten there.

Licking his lips as Sylar pulled away, the other man gave him even more of what he wanted by offering his chest to cuddle against, leaving Peter to grab hold of telepathic words for added comfort. And Peter took it easily, tucking his face down and closing his eyes, Peter just didn't want to have to think for as long as he could get away with. ]

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