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Character: Sylar/Peter
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 1000ish
Rating: PG - Sylar swears a lot. Work safe no smut
Prompt: #36 Like wind in the hot sun for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
100_fairytales 14/100
Dr. Walter Bishop: Unless you have an IQ higher than mine, I'm not interested in what you think! forscifi_muses
Notes: Peter bet Sylar he couldn't go for a week without using his powers while they're on a road trip. Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
empath_peter
“You’re doing it wrong, Sylar.” Peter leaned against the fender of the car, tapping his fingertips over the dust covered paint. I wasn’t sure what was more annoying the car breaking down, the car being dirty, Peter’s fingerprints getting on the paint, or Peter nagging at me that I was wrong.
I glanced up at him, the bright sunlight making me squint while the Texas heat sucked the moisture out of my body. If we didn’t get out of here soon, Dr. Zahi Hawass was going to discover our carcasses with my hands wrapped around Peter’s throat in a diorama of death. Couldn’t hold back the chuckle that brought me.
“I am not doing it wrong, Peter. A car is a machine, just like a clock or any other machine. I can figure out how it works, and I can fix it, provided I can find a way to circumvent the failed water pump in the middle of Buttfuck, Nowhere in 110 degree heat.”
“Sylar, hate to break it to you.” Peter twisted around until he had his head under the hood too, his shoulder pressed tight against mine. “But MacGyver you’re not. You cannot make a water pump out of three paperclips, a Pringles can and a roll of duct tape.”
“Peter,” I glared at him. Exasperated I brushed my hair out of my eyes probably leaving a smear of grease over my cheek and forehead. “I might have agreed to your little bet that I couldn’t go a week without using my abilities, but I’m still smarter than you are. Did you forget that part? I will find a way to put the car back together. It won’t run forever, but it will get us to the next town. Now would you please stop annoying me?”
“Figuring out how to make the car work may be using your powers, Sylar.”
I didn’t respond in words to that one. Instead I flipped him off and growled while reaching deep into the engine cavity. I didn’t have the proper tools, and not being able to use telekinesis was starting to really piss me off.
“Did you take shop in school, Sylar?” He jabbed his elbow into my side when I bent back over the engine.
“No and neither did you. I doubt they had shop class in prep school on the Upper East Side.”
Peter laughed then reached over to rub at the grease on my face. “You’re a mess. I didn’t need shop class. I got to hang out in the garage with the driver. He let me tinker sometimes. It was fun, and unless you’ve got a power that you can use to weld and seal, you are not fixing that pump.”
“Then what do you suggest I do, Peter?” I stood up, barking the top of my head on the hood latch and tearing out a chunk of scalp. “Fuck!”
“I suggest you look for an alternative.”
“Oh really?” I rubbed at the top of my head, pulling my fingers away to find blood mixing with the grease and grime. I would need to soak for a week to get clean after this. Blood I don’t mind, obviously, but I don’t like being grimy. “What did you come up with to save us from certain doom?”
“This.” He pulled off his shirt, giving me a good view of his taught stomach and the shifting muscles of his shoulders as he wiped the sweat from his body with it. Then he walked to the back of the car, and dug around in his small suitcase, pulling on a thin white t-shirt that left nothing to the imagination. As he walked toward the highway, he hooked his thumbs into his belt loops and let his jeans shift lower on his hips.
I was about to tell him he was wasting his time, that if anyone was going to stop they would have already. At least half a dozen cars and trucks had passed us since we broke down, why would they help us now.
Peter turned back to look at me and winked just as another car appeared down the road. I watched as he put out his thumb, and I didn’t need to see his face to know he’d put on either the big goofy smile or the come fuck me look. I closed my eyes willing them to keep going.
“Please don’t prove him right, please,” I muttered as I dropped my one screwdriver under the car. It was probably a good thing too, because the mood I was in I was liable to put it through Peter’s eye at this point or my own. I was reaching under the car, trying to get the screwdriver when I heard the car pull over. Using a little telekinesis, because Peter wouldn’t know, to get the tool, I scooted back just in time to see Peter chatting it up with a trio of college girls.
“They’ll give me a ride to town. You can stay here with the car,” Peter said, bringing me a fresh cold Coke from their car. “They said you can have this, and I’ll be back with a tow truck. Stay out of the sun. Be back soon.”
“I hate this place.” I took the Coke and just held the cold can against my forehead. “I hate this car. I hate not using my powers.”
“But most of all you hate me for being right.” He chuckled then headed towards the girls. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. If I’m gone more than two hours, you can use your powers to come save me from the deadly Sorority Sisters.”
“You…” I let out a sigh. “Yes I hate that you were right. If you take more than two hours to come back to me, I’m leaving you with them, and I’m going back to New York.”
“No you won’t.” He gave me the come fuck me smile then climbed into their car.
“I hate it when you’re right, Peter. I fucking hate it.”
100 Fairytales Table
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 1000ish
Rating: PG - Sylar swears a lot. Work safe no smut
Prompt: #36 Like wind in the hot sun for
100_fairytales 14/100Dr. Walter Bishop: Unless you have an IQ higher than mine, I'm not interested in what you think! for
scifi_musesNotes: Peter bet Sylar he couldn't go for a week without using his powers while they're on a road trip. Written for
empath_peter“You’re doing it wrong, Sylar.” Peter leaned against the fender of the car, tapping his fingertips over the dust covered paint. I wasn’t sure what was more annoying the car breaking down, the car being dirty, Peter’s fingerprints getting on the paint, or Peter nagging at me that I was wrong.
I glanced up at him, the bright sunlight making me squint while the Texas heat sucked the moisture out of my body. If we didn’t get out of here soon, Dr. Zahi Hawass was going to discover our carcasses with my hands wrapped around Peter’s throat in a diorama of death. Couldn’t hold back the chuckle that brought me.
“I am not doing it wrong, Peter. A car is a machine, just like a clock or any other machine. I can figure out how it works, and I can fix it, provided I can find a way to circumvent the failed water pump in the middle of Buttfuck, Nowhere in 110 degree heat.”
“Sylar, hate to break it to you.” Peter twisted around until he had his head under the hood too, his shoulder pressed tight against mine. “But MacGyver you’re not. You cannot make a water pump out of three paperclips, a Pringles can and a roll of duct tape.”
“Peter,” I glared at him. Exasperated I brushed my hair out of my eyes probably leaving a smear of grease over my cheek and forehead. “I might have agreed to your little bet that I couldn’t go a week without using my abilities, but I’m still smarter than you are. Did you forget that part? I will find a way to put the car back together. It won’t run forever, but it will get us to the next town. Now would you please stop annoying me?”
“Figuring out how to make the car work may be using your powers, Sylar.”
I didn’t respond in words to that one. Instead I flipped him off and growled while reaching deep into the engine cavity. I didn’t have the proper tools, and not being able to use telekinesis was starting to really piss me off.
“Did you take shop in school, Sylar?” He jabbed his elbow into my side when I bent back over the engine.
“No and neither did you. I doubt they had shop class in prep school on the Upper East Side.”
Peter laughed then reached over to rub at the grease on my face. “You’re a mess. I didn’t need shop class. I got to hang out in the garage with the driver. He let me tinker sometimes. It was fun, and unless you’ve got a power that you can use to weld and seal, you are not fixing that pump.”
“Then what do you suggest I do, Peter?” I stood up, barking the top of my head on the hood latch and tearing out a chunk of scalp. “Fuck!”
“I suggest you look for an alternative.”
“Oh really?” I rubbed at the top of my head, pulling my fingers away to find blood mixing with the grease and grime. I would need to soak for a week to get clean after this. Blood I don’t mind, obviously, but I don’t like being grimy. “What did you come up with to save us from certain doom?”
“This.” He pulled off his shirt, giving me a good view of his taught stomach and the shifting muscles of his shoulders as he wiped the sweat from his body with it. Then he walked to the back of the car, and dug around in his small suitcase, pulling on a thin white t-shirt that left nothing to the imagination. As he walked toward the highway, he hooked his thumbs into his belt loops and let his jeans shift lower on his hips.
I was about to tell him he was wasting his time, that if anyone was going to stop they would have already. At least half a dozen cars and trucks had passed us since we broke down, why would they help us now.
Peter turned back to look at me and winked just as another car appeared down the road. I watched as he put out his thumb, and I didn’t need to see his face to know he’d put on either the big goofy smile or the come fuck me look. I closed my eyes willing them to keep going.
“Please don’t prove him right, please,” I muttered as I dropped my one screwdriver under the car. It was probably a good thing too, because the mood I was in I was liable to put it through Peter’s eye at this point or my own. I was reaching under the car, trying to get the screwdriver when I heard the car pull over. Using a little telekinesis, because Peter wouldn’t know, to get the tool, I scooted back just in time to see Peter chatting it up with a trio of college girls.
“They’ll give me a ride to town. You can stay here with the car,” Peter said, bringing me a fresh cold Coke from their car. “They said you can have this, and I’ll be back with a tow truck. Stay out of the sun. Be back soon.”
“I hate this place.” I took the Coke and just held the cold can against my forehead. “I hate this car. I hate not using my powers.”
“But most of all you hate me for being right.” He chuckled then headed towards the girls. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. If I’m gone more than two hours, you can use your powers to come save me from the deadly Sorority Sisters.”
“You…” I let out a sigh. “Yes I hate that you were right. If you take more than two hours to come back to me, I’m leaving you with them, and I’m going back to New York.”
“No you won’t.” He gave me the come fuck me smile then climbed into their car.
“I hate it when you’re right, Peter. I fucking hate it.”
100 Fairytales Table
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-09-28 06:31 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2010-09-28 06:38 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2010-09-28 06:55 pm (UTC)From:I love that Peter is perfectly aware of the effect he has on others, and uses it when necessary.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-28 06:56 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2010-09-28 09:01 pm (UTC)From:You know, you really don't even appreciate the position I put myself in for you. Those girls were all over me the whole way there and back. *sighs*
I am proud of you though. *grins* You didn't use your powers the whole week. You deserved to win.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-29 06:05 am (UTC)From:Of course I deserved to win. I was amazing.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-29 10:25 am (UTC)From:Beides, those girls really got off on it. Man, they would not leave my ass alone. I think I have bruises.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-29 08:15 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2010-09-29 10:00 pm (UTC)From:*Turns, undoing his belt* It would really help if you looked at my ass, Sylar.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-29 07:39 am (UTC)From:This was great, as always.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-29 07:42 am (UTC)From:Glad you enjoyed it. :)