Petrelli Vs Carlisle...the Musical

[chimeramimicry]

"Petrelli VS Carlisle -- The Musical"
Who:  Peter Petrelli & Peter Carlisle (Blackpool)
When: Six months before Season 1


"He's making a mess."

Peter glanced up at the head nurse and arched an eyebrow.  "Oh yeah?"

"Yes.  And he keeps singing.  Take him down to X-Ray."

Peter didn't exactly care for the tone of voice his superior was using, but with two months left of his internship, he couldn't stand being a smart ass.  Shaking the hair out of his face, he took the chart under his arm and headed down to the waiting room.  "Mister Peter Carlisle?" he asked, smiling as he always did.  Patients in pain preferred to have a happy face to greet them.

Comments

[carlislestyle.livejournal.com]

He was not really sure what was going on any more. They were kissing? When did this crop up? Did this mean he was gay because he certainly hasn't stopped the kissing. Was Peter gay? Probably. Or bi... people all seemed to be bi these days. Why wasn't he--

Shouldn't he be paying more attention to the man kissing him than anything else.

Jerking away from Peter, he cleared his throat and gave him a small look. "... Ok. I'm confused. You must really love my hair."

And frankly, that idea tickled him enough to make him laugh.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

Peter laughed too, rolling onto his back as he pressed his hands against his face. "It's awesome," he confirmed, feeling ridiculous. Carlisle hadn't exactly kissed him back, but he didn't really push him away at first either. Probably because he was asleep. Or maybe he was extra confused.

Well, the same went for the younger man whose bed he was currently sharing.

"Sorry...no really. I didn't-- I'm really not--" Peter bit into the numb section of his lower lip, the one that drooped exactly at the wrong moments, and sat up, kicking his feet out of bed so that he could get up quickly.

Maybe he could just hide in his bathroom for a little while and be done with it.

But noooooo. No, Peter had to play nurse even now. "Still early, but want breakfast?"

[carlislestyle.livejournal.com]

So they went from sleeping to petting hair to kissing to laugh to... breakfast. Huh, Americans worked very differently to the Scots. It was actually rather fun, if not a little weird and confusing. "Errr, you know I never turn down food."

Rolling off Peters bed, he hurried after the other man, steadying himself on the doorframe and leaning himself against it.

As he watched Peter with a small frown, he mentally tried to work out what was going on here. It could just be his very awesome hair... which he was currently checking out in the window reflection.

It was all ruffled thanks to the petting!

Glancing over at the clock, his eyes almost bulged out of his head. It had just turned 5am! Who was up at this time? Couldn't he of saved the homoerotisms for a normal time like 9am.

"How do you function this early, you mad-man?"

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

"People get their feet run over by taxis at all hours of the day, not just when it's convenient for me," Peter pointed out, taking the pan off of the hook from over the stove and breaking out the eggs. That's right, no poptarts for Carlisle. Peter cooked.

And not only did he cook, but he cooked healthy, delicious things.

"You can go back to bed though, if you're tired." In between his sentences, Peter kept nibbling on his lips. Despite the taste of morning breath and stale beer, he'd really liked it.

First class trip to hell, sinner, his old religion teacher's voice told him, causing him to get an eggshell in his omelet.

He expertly fished it out and glanced over his shoulder at Peter.

[carlislestyle.livejournal.com]

So... no cereal? Or pop tarts? Or toast with jam?

Just eggs and stuff? Healthy breakfast stuff? Ew! Why would he want that? His nose wrinkled up in horror before he stumbled back over to the sofa and dropped down into the sheets.#

This way he could still talk to Peter while staying warm and sleepy. He could set an alarm, doze off, watching some morning cartoons, head off to work and be back by 12!

It all sounded perfect, he really did love quick days like this.

"People really shouldn't be run over any time. That never happened to me in England, says a lot, doesn't it?"

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

"It probably doesn't happen anywhere but New York," Peter said with a laugh. Had he known that Carlisle was planning on returning, he probably wouldn't have worried so much about the impression he left on the other man.

Worry made him cook more than usual and by the time he was finished and the other Peter was probably half asleep again, there were pancakes, eggs, bacon, toast and jam, and thick syrup for him to enjoy.

"How do you take your coffee?" he asked, absolutely certain that he was not going to breach the topic of kissing...or anything like that...again.

[carlislestyle.livejournal.com]

Yawning, Peter had slowly been on the verge of falling asleep but naturally, that went to hell when his new friend was asking about coffee and he could smell food. Why was there this kind of temptation at 5:30am?

Yawning loudly, he wrapped the blanket around his shoulder and blinked tiredly ahead. "Umm... sugar and milk?"

Rubbing at his eyes, he leaned over and inspected his damaged foot before curling it up and onto the sofa with him, happily covered up in the blanket. Best way to keep warm first thing when your crazy friend is making breakfast.

And apparently, neither of them were going to talk about the kiss.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

Not if Peter had anything to do with it, they weren't. It had been a moment of weakness brought on by the sheer awesome of Carlisle's accent and his hair. Nothing more. He was overtired, a bit lonely, and everything else was random bits of chance.

Piling up Carlisle's plate with a little of everything, Peter brought it and his coffee over to him on the couch.

"How's the foot? Want me to rewrap it again?"

[carlislestyle.livejournal.com]

"My foot is fine," Carlisle dismissed, excepting the plate and wriggling about in the bedsheets so he was comfortable and protected from cold morning air. He ate with his hands, too tired to be bothered with a folk unless he really had to for the sake of the food.

"Sometimes I think you love my foot more than me," he joked with a small snort of amusement, not sure if he was simply Peter loved him or what, his mind was never the sharpest this early.

As he pulled apart a pancake and shoved half into his mouth he gazed around the room to track down the TV. He usually had breakfast with the TV going if he happened to be at home. Though, with his job, he was usually just had breakfast at the office. Easier than staying in!

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

Arching an eyebrow, Peter grinned and shook his head at the other man on the couch. "It's got a lot more personality," he teased, nibbling like a rabbit on a piece of toast, his mind trying to stay away from what had happened half an hour before in the bedroom.

Unfortunately for Carlisle, Peter didn't actually have a TV that worked like one. He got the basic channels, but mostly it was there for the XBox and little else.

He didn't have time for any of the good channels. His life was much too hectic.

[carlislestyle.livejournal.com]

"My foot is just part of my charm, you should see me dance," Carlisle teased back, happily tearing his way through his food and making short work of breakfast. So even at 5am he got hungry, who knew? The only time he got hungry this early was when he was on a case and up all night.

Falling asleep at his desk was not something he was a stranger too, it happened a lot.

"Anyway, I'll make sure to tidy up the bedding stuff after you leave and I should be gone by then," he promised, not wanting Peter to think he was moving in. Licking the excess syrup from his fingers, he gave Peter a small smile and mumbled something around them about his motel.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

"Oh," Peter said, nodding again. He got up, mostly to keep himself from watching Carlisle lick his damned fingers. "Well, you're not gonna be dancing until you get back home. It'll be at least four weeks until you should put that sort of pressure on it."

Peter shoved his plate into the sink.

"And sure, it's fine, you don't have to straighten up, it's just a blanket. The door will lock behind you. Don't take my Xbox." It was a joke, really.

He doubted his Scottish friend would do that. Besides, he'd just go down to the 6th and ask for a Scottsman. He had to be the only one there!

Peter crossed the room again, pulling off his white undershirt in the process and dropped it in the hamper in the hall before he headed towards the bathroom.

[carlislestyle.livejournal.com]

Once the plate was empty, Carlisle shoved the plate to the side and simply curled up on the sofa, wriggling into the blankets and burying his head under the pillow. There was no food so no reason to stay up.

Well, there was Peter but he was getting ready for work. Short of washing him, there was nothing he could actually do.

Lazing around half asleep seemed to be just fine.

He'd have to set an alarm on his phone for 9 though, if he got in late, they might make him work all day and he really didn't want that. He just wanted sleep, food and potentially to bother Peter.

He was rather starting to like him a fair bit.