When Worlds Collide: RP for yearsguilt

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There was a distinct sense that it was very possible that he ought not be doing this. Repercussions could abound, sliding between both of their timelines. Already the questions abounded of what he was like in this Peter's world. If Kirby Plaza happened, then Hiro was not there, and Sylar had not thrown him to the wall...or had he? He should ask, he thought. Ask if they had all been there, and Hiro still...Because if it had gone wrong in just that Claire hadn't shot Peter or Nathan hadn't appeared, hadn't stepped away from Angela and to save Peter, then Hiro still could have been flung back in the past and his own life taken the same course until somehow, some other way, he escaped the Company facility.

But it hadn't happened that way here, and part of him felt his headache with the repercussions of that, because if changing it here hadn't changed this boy's future, then had Hiro stopping him in that vault not truly changed the future his Peter had seen? Had the virus been released somewhere, somehow? Was there a world where with God's grace it had all gone right? And if so, why was he stuck in this one where everything felt fragile and hard and sharp, like he could fall apart at any moment, and the choices that tore from emotions he'd never expected nor wanted to feel seemed harder. A setback, surely. Just that, a few more weeks, a month or two, some sleep, some rest, and he'd be fine. Back to his old self, back to looking about. Back to a new plan.

So damn the timelines crossing, he decided, as he entered the Yaffa Cafe, taking in the bright animal prints and Christmas lights strung around and smiled to see that some things didn't change, even if his blessed East Village had gone and gotten gentrified while he was locked away. This he knew, the music and the people, and if the clothes changed, the air did not. He'd settled on jeans, considering the venue, and a sweater over a button down shirt, with his leather jacket and scarf. Casual, but still pulled together, unable to be sloppy. If he was nervous, it didn't show as his cool eyes scanned the room, looking for a familiar face, and, failing to find it, moving to take a seat at a booth in the back where he could watch the door and wait for Peter, this new Peter who shouldn't be here, but was, to appear.


[ooc for anyone reading: For now, I think this is in the "open" verse. Coming out of RP in sixwordstories, but I think that's best, so "his Peter" would be youngerpetrelli when referred to in discussion with this one, yeah?]

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Adam gave him a wry smile, taking another sip of his coffee. "I'm sorry," he murmured quietly. "I'm not sure...I suppose I didn't realize it would come as that much of a surprise. At least not my," he hesitated over the word, "Interest. I'm nearly four-hundred years old. Things like gender cease to be as important as what's inside someone, the connections you form."

Plus he'd been in the merchant navy, the British navy, and a pirate, he thought ruefully, loud enough for Peter to hear if he was trying. You learned things then about need and friendship and comfort. And love, though that thought was gone as fast as it came, pushed back, hard to the places he didn't have to examine it.

"His friendship means more to me than that," he told him, half hoping to reassure him. "We went through hell together, in the Company's cells. He gave me hope when I didn't have any left, and I like to think I kept him from going mad. He got me out of there when no one else could. I owe him my life, literally."

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Peter understood perfectly now. Adam had lived for four hundred years – four hundred years worth of relationships. Peter knew that Adam probably decided long ago that gender wasn’t an issue – it wasn’t disturbing or odd anymore and Peter had to accept Adam for who he was, even if the Peter of this present was now playing this type of house game with Monroe.

Loneliness. It was the one thing any Peter Petrelli of the past, present or future wanted to do without. Peter attempted to find that in many people, but nothing ever lasted long enough. He was never really able to find that one person that could keep him stable, to keep him still and calm. He was constantly trying to protect and save everyone, but there was never someone there to save him.

“Do you love him?” He asked, those dark brown eyes finally lifting to gaze into Adam’s blue ones. He had almost hesitated with the question and almost like the word “me” slip instead of “him”, but he was able to balance himself out quickly enough to not say it.

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It was a question Adam wasn't sure he wanted to, or even could, answer, but at the same time, it was honest and it deserved as honest of an answer as he could bring himself to give.

He glanced down for just a moment, then back up, willing himself to meet and hold Peter's eyes.

"I could," he acknowledged. "I don't love easily. I've been betrayed too many times, been the one not chosen, the one walked away from, the one cheated on. It's hard to trust. And he...loves someone else a great deal. So, I find myself keeping my guard up, trying not to let myself fall too hard, knowing if push came to shove I am not the one he would choose." A deep breath, and then a soft acknowledgment. "But I could."

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“I wouldn’t do that to you – I can’t say the same about my past self, but I can’t have multiple lovers. I don’t think I can handle baggage like that. It isn’t right; it isn’t really fair to the other person if more than two hearts are involved. I’m not judging you and I’m not saying what you’re doing it wrong. I just think that you shouldn’t share – because you can’t really be all that happy in the end and I think you know that.”

Jealously was a silly thing. It probably wasn’t much of an issue with Adam, but it had to be there somewhere. If his past self was running around having sex with other people, how could a person honestly attempt something as deep and meaningful as love? Peter thought he found it once, thought it was something so perfection, but it was soon realized that love wasn’t real.

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"It's complicated," Adam said with a sad sort of smile. "And to be fair, I haven't asked him for any sort of commitment, and the person he does love was there before me, and I'm not...It's complicated. But, I agree with you, mostly. I don't share well, anyway. I'm far too jealous, far too possessive. To a fault, really." Wanting to destroy Japan over a single kiss probably was going a bit too far, he could acknowledge. "I've had multiple lovers before, but never when it moved toward real love. I had to share someone I loved once. She was married, and he was horrible, but she wouldn't leave him. It didn't end well." That those involved were Peter's parents, he kept locked firmly behind walls he'd learned to keep up around telepaths.

"I promised myself then...never again. But finding that someone you can truly, openly, finally give your whole heart to is difficult when you're me."

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Peter found himself easily deep in thought, his brown eyes lifting up to stare into Adam's blue ones. He wondered if this would happen to him and it made him unsure if he really wanted to go through it. He absorbed Adam's ability and there was that good chance that Peter wouldn't age anymore - that he would stay the same way forever and have to watch the world change and go on. Whether or not he would change with it was beyond him at the moment, he couldn't say for sure.

"Never again?" That made him perk up, breaking Peter away from what he was thinking. It was easy to say that he wanted to find that person as well, wanted to feel that love that nobody wanted to give him.

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Adam's eyes dropped to his coffee, taking a sip before he continued, then staring in its depths.

"Never sharing someone I loved, never not...speaking up when I had the chance, when it was real, but. Then they locked me away, her husband and his friends, just when I was set to beg her to leave him, if that's what it took." Or command. "And I lost her. And now? Everything has changed. The world changed while I sat in a cell in a basement, unchanging no matter what they did to me there. So, now that certainty is gone, and I just...am willing to accept whatever I can get on the off chance that someday it will be more. At the very least, then, I am not completely alone."

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But Peter was, at least, that’s how he still felt even now. It was slowly starting to become clear how the Peter from the past found Adam attractive in his own way and those feelings were slowly slipping into him. It was surprising and he wondered if he was forcing himself to feel this way because of the horrible rejection from Niki. He didn’t want Adam to be some kind of rebound from something that was just going to simply crash and burn in the end and yet he there was a part of Peter that wanted to see how far he could push it before Adam gave him that same rejection. It almost sounded like he was going to attempt to dig his own grave of despair, but what if it wasn’t going to be like that? What if maybe…

“Do you want to go somewhere?” It was asked bluntly, his brown eyes watching Adam intently before he allowed them to drift down to his coffe – still untouched. He wasn’t in the mood anymore and he figured it would make the waitress upset that he didn’t even touched the beverage served to him. He didn’t care.

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Adam's head snapped back up, eyes clear and assessing, sliding over Peter, trying to gauge his mood and intent. But he didn't know this Peter the way he knew his, couldn't read him like an open book, knowing just what to say or not say to get him to melt back into Adam's will. It was a challenge, which he almost never could walk away from. But more than that, he was still Peter Petrelli. And he had a hard time saying no to those eyes, no matter whose face they were in. He always had, he thought with a touch of regret.

"All right," he agreed, with a slight smile. "Where? My place is just a couple of blocks, on Avenue C, if you'd prefer somewhere more...private."

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“Your place it is.” I’ll need to know where it is just in case I decide to drop by again. The thought was processed way to fast for Peter’s liking and his face showed a brief moment of surprise. He finally took one sip from his coffee as he got up, finding it bitter and almost cold as licked his lips clean from the caffeine. He gave him an assuring nod before pushing his seat back into place before setting a few dollars down that would pay for his bill – it probably was a dollar or two over, but he really didn’t mind that.

His mind was trying to process all of this, his stomach tightening at what he was actually thinking. He pushed it all aside for the moment, his expression becoming soft once again as he waited for Adam.

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Adam dropped his money on the table as well, pulling his jacket back on as he stood, picking up his gloves and scarf from the seat next to him. He wasn't sure where, exactly, this was heading, and the uncertainty almost made his breath catch in his throat. He didn't say anything as he led the way out of the cafe with a tossed smile at the waitress. He came in often enough to almost be a regular, his cooking skills less than stellar, even after all this time.

"This way," he said, nodding his head in the right direction, winding the scarf back around his neck as they walked. Thirty years without the sun and wind seemed to have thinned his blood, making him cold most of the time in the winter. Maybe Hiro was right, and he should have gone somewhere warm. "Do you have somewhere you stay when you're here?" he asked, curiosity and a need to say something warring to force the words out.

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Peter didn’t even look at the waitress when he stepped out of the café, but he had a good idea that she probably didn’t like that he ignored it and the thought she processed made him almost smile. Parkman’s mind reading ability was good for a few things. He shoved his bare hands into his coat pockets once outside, the cold air hitting his lips to suck the color right out of them as those brown eyes followed where Adam’s head was tilting. He obliged, keeping with Adam’s pace as he made sure to pay attention when turns needed to be made.

“No,” he answered, knowing that it was the honest truth behind it. The place he was staying was only temporary seeing how his home in this time wasn’t the same as it was back in Las Vegas. Peter had made places to stay in the future seeing how his work as a “terrorist” took him to all sorts of areas. “Why do you ask?”

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"Just wondering," Adam said, glancing at him with a slight smile. "I wasn't sure how often you...how long you have been here, in our timeline. What you've done here. Why you do it, when it doesn't really change your own."

Hiro had been all about making things be as they were supposed to, though really, they'd almost destroyed that between them. Yet, nothing had changed in their future, or, without Hiro, it seemed it hadn't changed in the further future either. So he wondered, finally, whether changing history was even possible anymore. Perhaps it was all fated and the glimpses of the future that could be merely tantalizing what ifs. Except this boy came from one of those.

"This is it," he said, after he'd been quiet for a moment, gesturing to a brick walk-up, no more than four stories high. It had been renovated with the gentrification of the neighborhood, the inside all polished and clean. Adam was on the second floor, and he unlocked the door to usher Peter in. It was warm, both in temperature and color, with honey colored wood floors and cabinets, exposed brick walls here and there, earth toned furniture in the living room and a fireplace settled in the outside wall.

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“It may sound cliché, but I like it here. I know this isn’t my place and that I probably don’t belong here because this place already has a Peter Petrelli. If I ever do meet him who knows what could happen. The entire walls of reality could cave in throwing off the balance of time – or, maybe we’ll just chat and I’ll tell him how great a terrorist he is in the future.” A light shrug was given after his response, ducking in past Adam as he entered his apartment building. It looked nice – way nice than his current living establishment. “You think they’re renting?” He asked almost too softly for his own, those brown eyes lingering for only a moment before he returned his gaze to Adam for his answer.

“I would be nice living in a place that didn’t smell like garbage.” He wondered if Adam would catch on that out of all the apartment buildings in New York, he was asking if he could move in here. Whether or not that meant that he’d be closer to Adam, it just seemed to highly of a coincidence, but it seemed Peter didn’t pay no mind to it.

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Adam's eyebrow went up as he very much caught on to the implications of the soft question at least. He shut his door behind Peter, blocking out the hall, locking it with a flick of his wrist. Shrugging out of his jacket, and putting it on a hook by the door, he leaned against the wall and studied Peter for a moment. "I don't know about renting. I bought this one, and I know there's one for sale on the top floor. Another's empty on the third, but I haven't seen a sign, so it's possible the owner wants to keep it and rent it out. I can ask one of the neighbors. I haven't met most of them yet, really. Been keeping to myself."

He had to bite his tongue to keep from mentioning his second bedroom, empty except for a few bookshelves that could be moved to his own easily enough, and a futon he likely never would have a need for. He'd just met this boy, and, explaining why there was another Peter living here if and when his popped by, or Hiro or...it was complicated and deserved thinking of rather than an impulsive offer.

His eyes glanced toward the kitchen, the living room, then he nodded, inviting him in further as he moved into the tiny kitchen. "Can I get you anything? Beer? Whiskey? Water? More coffee?" Coffee, at least, he could manage to make fairly well.

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There was a soft vibe that traveled up the length of Peter’s back, his spine tingling lightly as he stood there silently, trying to contemplate what he wanted – what he was doing there exactly. His intentions weren’t clear to Adam and he knew he was wondering what they were. Peter shrugged off his own coat to hang it up as well, leaving him in that black long sleeved shirt as he placed his back to Adam. This was the moment to decide, to cross the line if he wanted to despite being so soon.

“I don’t want anything to drink,” he answered in his hushed tone, finally turning to face Adam as he slowly closed the distance easily, placing himself directly in front of Adam as those hands came quickly to grip the other man’s hips, pulling him almost violently forward so that his body was pressing against his. “Where do you stand on the list of things you can get me?”

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The sudden movement took Adam by surprise, even as his hands naturally moved to Peter's hips, settling there with an easy familiarity, then tightening so he was holding him hard against him. Heat flared along his skin, through him, and in his eyes at the near-violence of the movement. Given Peter's reaction in the cafe, he hadn't expected this, at least not so soon. He'd really thought he'd have to work to get here.

Carefully, almost as if afraid to startle something feral, he slid one of his hands up Peter's chest to curl around the back of his neck, thumb stroking easy on the side, brushing over his skin. He smiled a little. "I suppose I'm on the menu for the asking, if I'm what you want instead..."

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For someone who was as lonely as he was, there didn’t really need to be much work to be done to get Peter’s head in a spin and Adam did that pretty easily. He wasn’t expecting this, the moment not even having come to mind until just moments ago. It was that sudden urge of want and need that fueled Peter’s blood and made it boil beneath his flesh. He wanted this. He wanted Adam. He didn’t want to spend weeks in this world and go back to the future and not have anything to come back to – to not have any reason to return.

Now he did.

It was amazing how hard he already was, how his length outlined the front of his jeans as he pressed his hips forward just a little so Adam could feel it and let him know that there was still someone around who wanted him and Peter was going to take whatever Adam could offer and not complain about it. "I want you."

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Adam could feel, and his body responded in kind, heart and breath both speeding up, hips rocking to meet Peter's with nearly equal need, though his eyes remained searching, watching, looking deep in Peter's eyes as if trying to read the truth of what was being offered, what was needed, and determining what he could give.

That Adam wanted there was no doubt. That he'd take was a foregone conclusion, as was that he'd give in return. That it hadn't even occurred to Peter before a short while ago, Adam was far too aware of, that this would be different, that this wasn't his Peter with his eager smile and experience, able to tell him exactly what he wanted and how, and knowing what Adam wanted in return before Adam even could voice it sometimes.

"And I, you," he murmured, letting his fingers slide lightly over skin. "Come here, then..." He leaned in, closing the rest of the distance, head ducking to brush his lips lightly over Peter's, just a taste, and then kissed him more firmly, fingers sliding into his hair.

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Peter was a little hesitant of course when he watched Adam duck his head to brush his lips against his own, the heat across the sensitive skin almost burning with just that light brush. He took in a breath and he decided that he was too far gone to stop himself now. The taste was different and better than almost anything he had ever experienced. Adam didn’t have that softness that most girls had and he was addicted to it at once, his head pushing forward to deepen the kiss quickly as he parted Adam’s mouth with his tongue, the wet muscle sliding easily over his own bottom lip before it took that dive in.

Those strong hands were already working on his shirt, eager to take it off to feel the skin underneath, to grab and take hold of those muscles. He almost shivered at the thought of that body fully pressing against his own, his skin flaring up underneath his clothing to make him hot and bothered by just the thought processing.

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God, but it would be so easy just to take him, to give in to the lust and the need and not care about anything else. Already, just in mutual heat and need, it was better than his first time with another of his own gender, but he had a need, at war with his body's demands, to make it better than good, to show Peter what and why and how their bodies could fit and move together.

He returned the kiss, letting the hand at Peter's hip slide up under his shirt, across his stomach, feeling the line of his muscles, before pushing the shirt up. Already he was aching for more, to explore a body like and unlike, familiar and not, to see what was the same and what was different and what he responded to. But he made his touches softer, tongue meeting Peter's with hunger, but tempering it, control clamping down as he tried to slow the pulsing need to something more like heated exploration.

You only get one first time, he chided gently, thinking it loud and clear and outside the boundaries and walls he'd learned to keep up from Maury Parkman.

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Peter wasn’t exactly thinking clearly as it was and it wasn’t exactly such a big surprise that his male dominance would want to take over, despite having no idea what he was doing. He reminded himself that Adam wasn’t a woman, he didn’t have the same parts – didn’t act or react the same way even if touching Adam did seem to get a rise like anyone else would when Peter touched them. He broke away from the kiss easily, taking in a breath to refill the air that had escaped his lungs, the colors of his cheeks flushing a bright shade of pink – could have been from embarrassment or just because his entire body felt like it was burning and it had nothing to do with the ability he picked up to create fire.

“Show me how good it can feel.” Peter said as he picked up what Adam said through his telepathy from Parkman. Peter had never given anyone permission to explore his body or take control of things like he was letting Adam do now. The years made him more of the alpha male, even when it came down to the simplest things. Sex with Adam Monroe wasn't going to be simple – it was going to be extraordinary.

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Adam smiled a little, eyes taking in the color in his skin and the desire in his eyes. The slight struggle for dominance made his own eyes light up. He didn't surrender his own control easily, and though he'd made the offer, none of the lovers he'd taken to bed since his escape from the Company had taken him up on it. Perhaps not this time...not tonight, but one day...he had a feeling this one might, and it made him shiver just a touch. Peter was more powerful by far, so controlling him was an exquisite treat and for a moment his eyes were speculative, then they cleared and he smiled a bit more.

"For that we really should move out of the hall..." He leaned in to kiss Peter hard for a moment, then took his hand to lead him back to the big bedroom off the living room, with its king sized bed and feather mattress top and down comforters--a testament to his need to erase every memory of that damned sterile cot from his brain.

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Peter almost sighed at the sight of the bed, perfect for what they were going to do and how they were going to do it. Adam was going to be the one leading in this encounter and Peter was going to happily oblige to whatever Adam wanted. There was a light pinch at the back of his head, wanting this moment to be perfect and spectacular. He wanted to feel and taste every inch of the man in front of him, but knew he couldn’t be so eager. Peter easily lost control in his sexual ways, knew that if he was pushed far enough he’d easily break free from his invisible constraints and fuck Adam Monroe into his king sized bed.

He moved slowly, letting his eyes take in the room – every piece of texture and furniture so he could come back to this place whenever he wanted. All he had to do was concentrate and popping in with Hiro’s teleportation ability would be a piece of cake. He brought himself to sit down at the edge of the bed, his fine chin lifting to gaze up at Adam.

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Adam tilted his head, studying Peter for a long minute, taking in every little bit of him, then he sat next to him. He shrugged out of the shirt Peter had already half undone, kicking off his shoes, followed by his socks, without taking his eyes from Peter. With his lips curving in a small smile, he reached to tug off Peter's shirt as well, fingers dancing back down over the skin revealed. Leaning in, he kissed him gently, but with an aching sort of heat, one hand sliding into his hair and the other around his side to press into his back.

He wanted him closer, the two of them nothing but flesh and tangled limbs and heat and passion, wanting in ways he could only brush over now, letting a shiver dance across his skin in pure reaction to Peter's closeness.