piscesnebula | I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror [ peter + adam ]

  Adam nodded as Peter explained further. ❝ Ah, that makes much more sense. ❞ Visions and dreams... So he'd also gotten a taste of Angela's ability. And her predictions always came true in one form or another from what he'd witnessed when around her all those years ago. Perhaps he'd pay her a little visit. Pay them all a visit to thank them for locking him up. Especially Kaito. Oh, how he'd savor Hiro's reaction when—

  ...The constant simmering rage Adam hid so well underneath the surface momentarily faded as Peter returned the warm gesture. Although a calculated move that received the intended result, it surprisingly brought sincerity to his grin, even if he wouldn't admit it to himself. They'd gotten to know each other somewhat over these past few weeks, and even though it had been through a wall, words and inflections could reveal almost as much as body language if one listened carefully enough. Peter was unlike most people the immortal had met in his lifetime, and he found it refreshing.

  Adam allowed the touch to linger a moment, his thumb absently brushing over Peter's skin as he continued. ❝ Well, you have nothing to worry about here, love. The nearest neighbor is at least a mile away, and I'm decently tough to hurt also. ❞ After a light squeeze, his hand returned to his glass to lift it for a sip.

  Usually, he would have poured himself a refill to chase the buzz, but instead, Adam set the bottle aside as all attention remained on Peter. ❝ Don't know about you, but I'm knackered, especially after such a feast. Best meal I've had in years — perhaps even a decade — all possible thanks to you. And in appreciation, you may take the king bed, if you wish. I don't mind sleeping on the couch. ❞ Something told him that Peter might object to that proposal.

The nearest neighbor being a mile away-- it's something Peter hadn't actually noticed on the drive in. He'd been so exhausted, so mentally strung out from the after-effects of imprisonment and breaking out of the Company cells. The knowledge has him gusting out a sigh of relief.

He doesn't know how big the radius is of Ted's power. Nathan had been thinking a specific figure, somewhere in the millions, Peter had heard the whispers of it in his mind. It means the explosion would have been pretty fucking big. Big enough that a mile distance wouldn't help much.

Still. It's something.

After Adam pulls his hand away, Peter's skin aches in the wake of it. He has to stuff his hands between his knees to force himself not to reach out again. Months in that cell has him so starving for human touch he barely knows how to handle it, and Adam is warm and gentle and his voice is so soft, and the emotional feel of him is so steady and reassuring. Fuck.

"Are you kidding? No, that bed's big enough to fit five of us, we can share," Peter insists. He puts his plate aside, and starts closing up containers of food. He's stuffed, too, and all he wants is to sleep, and he kind of immediately regrets the offer to share because now he can't stop thinking about the ramifications of sharing a bed, but it's the right thing to do. "Besides, you were in that cell for decades. You deserve a proper bed."

Seriously. Decades.

"I promise I'm not an annoying sleeper," Peter adds, a half-grin quirked at the edge of his lips.

  As it had been so long since Adam was first locked up, the exact memories of how he felt during those first few months had faded with the passage of time. Especially since he made no effort to remember them. Otherwise, he might have taken it into consideration regarding Peter. Humans, evolved or not, weren't meant to handle solitary confinement. It had been a harsh lesson to learn the hard way. And so, while he was attention-starved as well, he knew how to remain focused in order to manage the feeling. It was so very exhausting, though.

  At Peter's offer to share the bed, Adam tilted his head thoughtfully as though he hadn't expected the compromise. ❝ Hm, you do make excellent points. ❞ And honestly, he would love to finally sleep on a real bed after all this time. Following Peter's lead, he began helping, sorting the leftovers and stacking them in the fridge. ❝ Alright, we shall share... ❞ A playful expression washed over his face as he continued, ❝ But, I can't promise anything. I mean, I don't snore or sleepwalk, but I've been told I sometimes talk and occasionally steal covers in my sleep. So, if you wake up to a draft, feel free to take back what is rightfully yours. ❞

  Once the food was secure, Adam began making his way to the hall, flicking off the lights as he went if Peter was following him. The moonlight gleamed strong enough through the windows to where he didn't bother turning on the bedroom light as he slipped off the ridiculous bellbottoms and threw them aside. He'd almost forgotten he was wearing them. ❝ Certainly hope those don't go missing or get set ablaze or some such, ❞ he said while giving Peter a faux look of suspicion.

  Lastly, he pulled off the tank top, leaving him in nothing but his boxers as he slid underneath the covers to get comfortable. The luxurious Egyptian cotton welcomed him, drawing a low hum of approval that held a hint of salaciousness from his throat. It had been so long since Adam felt such expensive fabric against his skin and such softness underneath him. Oh, how he'd missed it. Glancing over, his attention returned to Peter, and he playfully patted the space beside him. ❝ You're in for quite a treat — past me spent entirely too much money on this setup. ❞

Peter almost thinks to himself: it's been a while since he shared a bed with someone.

But that's not true, is it? It was maybe only six months ago that he and Simone had spent the night together. Just once, before everything had really started going to hell. She'd found him after Nathan's election fundraiser, soaking wet from a thunderstorm and furious from Nathan using his so-called suicide attempt for politics, and her touch and her smile and her soft skin had made him forget everything else that had happened that night.

And now all he can do is bitterly regret that night, because if she hadn't found him, if she hadn't spent the night, then maybe she'd still be alive. Maybe he wouldn't have gotten her killed.

Distracted by half-visions of blood and bullets, he's slow to respond to Adam's joke about his stupid flares. It takes him half a second of an uncomprehending stare, and then an amused little noise. "Pity I don't have pyrokinesis yet."

He mirrors Adam, stripping down to his boxers. Peter's always had a complete lack of self-consciousness about his body, and he enjoys the brief glimpse that he gets of Adam's; lean and sleek, but with a power there, a confidence. He all but collapses messily on the bed, shoving himself under the covers, settling on his side facing Adam. The sheets are nice, but even a hospital bed would feel great right now, so he doesn't think he's in the best frame of mind to judge.

His thoughts are still grey, like thunderclouds heavy with rain, and after a silence he can't help but ask--

"Adam? Did you... ever hurt anybody because of your powers?"

  Peter's delayed response was quickly overlooked, chalking it up to exhaustion from the events of a long day and overeating a grand meal. Adam felt the same way, so he couldn't blame him. But, the word yet caught his attention, reminding him just how powerful Peter could become in time. With enough abilities, he would be unstoppable... They would be unstoppable if Adam played his cards right, that was. The thought brought a genuine grin to his lips. ❝ Yes, truly a pity. ❞

  As Peter got into bed, Adam made no attempt to hide the way his gaze wandered over newly bared skin in appreciation before returning to the empath's face and those puppy eyes of his. His personality, combined with his appearance, made this all the more easier. Although the immortal found all sorts of women attractive, it was rare to find men who were his type — pretty yet masculine with a loyal heart. Naivety was a plus, seeing as he could replace it with the wisdom ~~and jadedness~~ he'd learned over the centuries without having to go through a tedious trial-and-error learning stage. It was almost uncanny how Peter fit the bill.

  The question was unexpected, and usually, Adam would have shied away from answering or made up a story. But instead, he slowly nodded. Seeing as if anyone would understand, it would be Peter, he began, ❝ I didn't mention my ability to my first wife, and after twenty years of marriage, it became apparent that I wasn't aging. She didn't take it well at all. Called me a devil before leaving and died a few years later in a nunnery. She left scared and heartbroken. I failed her. ❞ Back then, being relatively young, he hadn't developed the skill to read people yet.

  By now, Adam was looking through Peter as the unpleasant memories returned. ❝ A couple, I faked my death to make a break for it or simply abandoned them, though I left plenty of money out of obligation. I had no idea what I wanted from life, and they paid for it. ❞ There was no denying those were selfish mistakes. But nowadays, he knew not to get himself into those sorts of situations to begin with. ❝ And lastly, one had drunk herself to death after accidentally seeing me regenerate. I should have paid more attention to the signs. Should have noticed how deeply the incident had affected her. So, I failed her as well. ❞ Eyes settling on Peter's, he observed his reactions and awaited any questions or comments he might have.

When he'd asked the question, Peter hadn't been sure what kind of answer he might be expecting. He'd seen all kinds of powers so far, and with some of them, it was pretty easy to understand how they might accidentally hurt people -- Elle's electricity, or Nikki's strength. But regeneration? He'd admit, it didn't seem like something that could harm others, it seemed like something entirely self-contained.

And then Adam starts speaking, and Peter realizes he just hadn't been thinking broadly enough. He'd only been thinking about physical harm.

He'd never considered how emotional attachments while immortal would harm others. It's a sobering thought, even in the midst of his already trending-melancholy thoughts.

"I'm so sorry." It feels inadequate against the enormity of what Adam must have seen, and Peter will admit, he's still kind of grappling with the idea that Adam is centuries old. He's lived lifetimes. He's had relationships that would have lasted other people the majority of their lives. What kind of effect does that have on someone psychologically? How is Adam still stable? Does he still remember what his first wife looked like, or have centuries of memories crowded out those older memories, or does the regeneration keep his memories perfect?

Peter may very well be in for the same fate, if his copied regeneration works passively and constantly. He'll have to watch Nathan grow old and die, along with his mom, and his nephews, and everyone he's ever cared about -- he's used to death, but it's easier when it's his patients and not his own family.

Fuck. This is a terrible topic to think about right before he's supposed to try to go to sleep.

"The Company kept me in there because they kept telling me I'd hurt everyone if I was free. Did they... tell you that too? Did it work on you?"

  As predicted, Peter's reaction was thoughtful and sincere. And even though he only spoke three little words, there seemed to be genuine care behind them, something Adam hadn't had the pleasure of hearing in a long time. It was nice. ❝ Thank you, Peter. ❞

  The immortal's expression softened as he watched him for a long moment, curious about the full effects his recounting of the past might have had on the empath. Sympathy was easily confirmed, and the gears seemed to be turning, but would he put two and two together and realize that, eventually, he would be all alone—that was unless he remained by Adam's side? Time would tell.

  The answer to the following question wasn't as cut and dry. Although Adam knew the angle he would shoot for and the perfectly laid out plan in his head, there still remained an unstable variable in more ways than one — Peter. Gaining his friendship seemed effortless, but what about his loyalty?

  ❝ Quite the opposite, actually. They disapproved of my plan to help others, curing people with my blood as I did your brother. Next thing I knew, I was being torn away from my wife — the one who incidentally was to blame for the bell bottoms and teaching me how to give Travolta a run for his money on the dance floor — and locked up, never to enjoy another disco ball again. ❞ There was an attempt to lighten the mood in order to show Peter he didn't mind talking about the past. At least, with him.

  As Adam got comfortable, adjusting his pillow and casually leaning over Peter to turn off the bedside lamp, possibly accidentally brushing bare skin against bare skin in the process, he continued, ❝ I suppose I should have seen it coming, as there was no profit to be made with my plan. So instead, they experimented on me, used my blood in their research of biological weapons... I do wonder if they're still up to such horrific schemes... ❞ he finished softly, his voice trailing off as if mostly speaking to himself, even though he was confident Peter would pick up the breadcrumb and run with it.

Even in the midst of one of the most harrowing stories he's ever heard, Adam still manages to make him smile with his stupid disco quips--

And then, all of a sudden, he's plunged into feeling like a fucking teenager again, getting flustered over the simplest brush of skin against skin, made worse by virtue of the whole bed-sharing situation. Peter's no stranger to crushes -- he's had one after the other ever since he turned twelve, from the moody poetic goth girl in his class when he was sixteen to the wise-cracking handsome EMT when he was in nurse school, and a dozen more beside. He's always had a thing for the cerebral types, the sensitive souls, and maybe it's no surprise he's forming a thing for Adam.

He thinks it might have started back in that cell. Adam had shown a capacity of self-reflection that was fascinating, the kind of wisdom that would usually only come with time and experience. Adam is gentle in every way he's shown Peter, and considerate, and--

And then he has to go and drop a bomb like research of biological weapons.

"They what?"

Goodbye, previous relaxation. Hello, whole-body tension. Peter's eyes are dark in the moonlit room, avid, fixed on Adam.

  With anyone else, Adam might have allowed them to stew in the panic he'd just evoked — perhaps even relished witnessing it — but Peter had taken the bait like a good boy, and there wasn't any reason to make him suffer on the hook. He didn't deserve such torture.

  Having not laid back yet, Adam met his gaze and rested a hand on Peter's arm to gently rub in a comforting manner. ❝ No worries, love. I'm certain if they had wished to use the virus, they would have released it by now. You see, it was right before I was locked up three decades ago that they'd discovered it and began attempting to manipulate it into a weapon. My sources tried to keep an eye on it, but the trail went cold. I assumed they gave up. ❞ A slight shrug was given.

  After a moment of observing Peter's reaction, Adam sighed as though in defeat. ❝ I'll tell you what — after your training, after we're confident the search for our whereabouts has died down, we'll raid the warehouses to ensure they aren't holding onto anything dangerous, alright? With your extraordinary abilities, it should prove trivial. ❞ A deceptively warm smile crept across his lips at the thought.

If there's one thing that's true about Peter Petrelli, it's that he doesn't easily let go of things. It's been true of him since he can remember -- his first crush that he pined after for years, a sentimental hairband that he doesn't still have only because it broke and fell off his wrist, the way he'd designated himself the protector of a classmate from bullies in his teens, his favorite take-out meal.

He's sure as hell not going to hear that the Company is experimenting with biological weapons and just shrug it off.

"They're stubborn enough to keep you locked up for decades, I don't trust that they just gave up when they couldn't find the answer right away," he insists. Adam's comforting rubbing of his arm is doing nothing even remotely comforting (but it's still nice, so he's hardly going to protest). "First a bunch of people wanted me to explode and wipe out New York. And then another group of people want to release a virus? This doesn't feel like coincidence, Adam."

Shit. Peter rolls over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. He's going to have to use every trick in his book to fall asleep -- and he learned a lot of tricks catching naps during 24 hour shifts.

  After a long moment, as if taking Peter's theory into consideration, Adam finally nodded thoughtfully. Seemed the empath was intent on making himself suffer, unfortunately. It served to reinforce the image Adam was gradually building of him, each reaction an intriguing puzzle piece.

  Giving Peter's arm a final pat, Adam laid back to look up at the ceiling as well, his fingers entwining to rest on his stomach. "All right. When an empath says they have a feeling, I suppose it's wise to listen. The question now is, what do you propose we do?" He knew what he wished to do to The Company, but suggesting outright gory revenge would make him appear too eager, of course. Not to mention, Peter probably wouldn't be on board with what he had in mind. At least, not yet, anyway.

  Looking over, Adam gave a sleepy yet thankful grin. "And since you've granted me my freedom, it's the least I can do to help you gain peace of mind. My knowledge of The Company is yours to wield as you please, Peter... Command me as you desire," he finished in a whisper, his words innocent yet deliberately chosen.

When an empath says they have a feeling, I suppose it's wise to listen.

And that, Peter thinks, might actually be the first time anybody has listened to him when he has a feeling. He's so used to having his hunches be dismissed by Nathan, by his mom, that it's a strange feeling when Adam so easily extends his trust. The problem is, he doesn't immediately know what to do, because he's not exactly experienced in... whatever this is. Planning to take down a decades old company that has been torturing people with superpowers, and has designs on biological weapons.

Half caught up in furious thinking, Adam's whisper catches him by surprise. It's a good thing it's dark; that way nobody can see him flush, even if his cheeks feel embarrassingly hot. That whisper brings to mind all sorts of images that Peter struggles to suppress. Soft skin, and heated lips, and--

Great. He's just digging himself deeper into this hole, isn't he?

"Whatever the answer is, I'm not going to come up with it half-asleep and full of carbs," he reluctantly admits. Peter rolls on his side again, facing Adam, one arm stuffed under the pillow. Watching him in the sliver of moonlight coming in through the window. Maybe he'll dream the answer. "We'll come up with a plan tomorrow, after we've both had some decent sleep in an actual bed. Because I don't know about you, but I'm excited to wake up without a crick in my neck."

  Having no recollection of the last time he'd been so full and comfortable, Adam's eyes were already fighting to stay open at the sound of Peter's soothing voice. Despite the empath's somewhat endearing naivete, he was confident he'd come up with an excellent plan of attack... And if not, Adam could easily help steer him in the proper direction. With his prowess and Peter's powers, The Company wouldn't know what hit them.

  ❝ Yes, in fact, I have a feeling I may oversleep. But if not, I'll be careful not to wake you. ❞ And he figured Peter would extend him the same courtesy of only awakening him if the house was on fire or some such. With that said, Adam stretched out to lay on his stomach, his head comfortable on the pillow, turned toward Peter to give a few final words of gratitude. ❝ Thank you again, for getting me out of there. It was a gift I won't be forgetting. ❞

  Over the centuries, Adam had taught himself incredible control over his body. Lie detectors didn't work on him, and neither did torture. Complete authority over his heartbeat and breathing were parlor tricks by now as well... But those things depended on him being awake. While asleep, the most he could manage was lucid dreaming, but even that eluded him sometimes as dark thoughts took the form of nightmares. And so, as admitted earlier, during the night, he mumbled softly in his sleep. So quietly, it might not have awakened Peter, but if it did, he would hear parts of sentences. ❝ How could you... You monster... You'll be the first... ❞

  When Peter woke up in the morning, he would find that he had somehow been promoted to the honorary position of Big Spoon™. It seemed that in Adam's unconscious search to get comfortable and warm during the night, he'd hit the jackpot, nestled up cozy against the empath.

It takes Peter a long time to get to sleep.

At first, it's because the thought holy shit the company are making biological weapons is looping on repeat. He spends a considerable amount of time in self-recrimination. He prides himself on being perceptive, but he'd sat in that cell for months, unaware of what was going on. Being lied to, and swallowing those lies for too long. Willingly playing captive for a group that never had his best intentions in mind. Then he starts thinking about what to do about the biological weapons and the lying and the potential link to the plan to let him blow up, and... look, nobody ever called him the best offensive strategist, so he mostly only manages to come up with a couple of plans of attack, each with their own drawback.

It's somewhere around pondering the details of Adam's history with them that he manages to fall asleep. He thinks his dreams are restless. Glimpses of a plague; of death, bodies thrown into burning pits. Glimpses of an eclipse, of an airplane packed with orange jumpsuits. A world where commuters fly down the streets and a dark-haired Claire hunts him.

It all evaporates into smoke when he wakes and he's warm and comfortable for the first time in months. It takes him a second to realize his arm is looped over Adam's waist, keeping them snugly together, and bare skin is pressed against bare skin, chest to back, thigh to thigh, buried in rumpled covers.

He should probably feel embarrassed. But it's not the first time he's woken up cuddling someone he isn't dating. Peter figures he probably grabbed Adam in the night -- that's just how he is when he sleeps. And why complain? Unless Adam's virtue is bothered, he's comfy.

"Morning," he murmurs, hoarse with sleep. He smooths a hand over Adam's side, and the action feels more intimate than he's earned. "You awake?"

  After the nightmare, which eventually transformed into a gore-filled revenge fantasy that Tarantino could have directed, Adam managed to drift off into a deep, peaceful slumber. It was unusual, being able to sleep so effortlessly beside someone he hadn't known very long. Someone who knew how to actually kill him, at that. Seemed his subconscious trusted Peter more than he would ever admit awake. After a hundred or so years, reading people had become second nature, so honestly, it wasn't too much of a surprise.

  The real surprise, he would soon discover.

  In the hazy state between wakefulness and dreamland, where the passing of time wasn't taken into consideration, the warmth of another's body against his wasn't an unusual occurrence, so no alarms were set off immediately. It had been six long years since Adam had shared such closeness with another. Having sorely missed the feeling, a hum bordering on a moan escaped his throat as an unknown hand ghosted along his side, pulling delicious chills along his skin.

  The question finally managed to pull Adam into the waking world fully. In a split second, the realization of the situation dawned on him—he was the little spoon! The plot twist had not been planned... but he found himself making no effort to correct the situation. It was more than pleasant, and Peter didn't seem to mind; quite the opposite, in fact. Interesting...

  Adam's hand slid to pause on top of Peter's in a gesture of appreciation, and he looked to the side to answer. ❝ Apologies if our current predicament is my fault. It appears platonic bed-sharing is a skill I must work on... ❞ With that, he turned onto his back, yet remained just as close as he continued, ❝ Unless you'd care to remain like this a little longer as we plan our day? ❞ With soft eyes, he observed Peter's reaction to his words and how he was absently caressing the top of his hand.

I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror [ peter + adam ]

No worries, it happens :)

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Sorry, been busy moving into my new house. Was more tiring than expected.

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