Originally published: 05/10/10 on Livejournal. (See profile for links.)
Title: I Do.
Rating: Mature Content/T
Summary: Sequel to A Life Worth Living. The big day has arrived, but will everything fall through?
Spoilers: Seasons 1-4
A/N: You don't have to have read the prequel to this to understand it, but it's always nice. Sorry there's a lack of porn!fluff in this one, but the fluff itself is still totally there. Another diabetic shock fic guys, just so you're warned.
"Will you stop fussing," Peter scolded his lover gently, watching the taller man redo his bowtie for the fifteenth time, looking anxiously into the mirror, "I promise you it looked fine, you're going to wrinkle it if you keep undoing and retying it."
"It was crooked," Sylar mumbled, long fingers nervously manipulating the uncooperative bow.
Peter just sighed and shook his head, grabbing his dress shoes from the closet and sitting on the end of the bed to put them on.
He heard his fiancé sigh in frustration and the zip of the silky fabric as he pulled the bowtie loose again.
Fiancé. Peter couldn't help but grin at the thought. Even if said fiancé was currently driving him crazy with his obsessive demand of perfection from his bowtie.
"Oh for God's sake, stop it," Peter gruffed, finishing tying his shoes sharply and standing.
He reached Sylar's side just he finished tying it again, and Peter could tell by the frustrated crease between his lover's eyebrows that he was two seconds away from undoing it again.
"Come here," Peter demanded, grabbing Sylar's lapels and turning him to face him.
Sylar sighed with quiet exasperation as Peter gently pulled and manipulated the finished bowtie to lay flat and even.
"What's wrong love?" he asked quietly as he worked, and Sylar sighed, gently resting his hands on Peter's slender hips.
He was quiet for a long moment and Peter opened his mouth to ask again when Sylar softly admitted, "I'm nervous," eyes fixed unseeingly somewhere over Peter's left shoulder.
"Don't tell me you're getting cold feet," Peter only half joked, an uncomfortable weight settling in the pit of his stomach at the thought.
"No, no, nothing like that," Sylar assured him quickly, "It's just…"
He sighed heavily through his nose before continuing, "I know you've forgiven me about the past. But your family hasn't."
Peter swallowed hard, eyes trained fixedly on Sylar's tie as he listened.
"I took your brother from you," he added quietly, hands tightening subtlety on Peter's hips, "I won't take the rest of your family."
Peter listened wordlessly, cursing in his head when tears welled and threatened to spill.
This had been something they'd been struggling with from the beginning, and it wasn't getting much easier to deal with Angela or Claire about it.
He finished with Sylar's tie, cleared his throat softly as he tried to regain composure and started to pull away, but Sylar would have none of it.
He pulled Peter tight to him, took hold of his jaw and kissed him; his lips, his cheeks, his nose, his forehead.
Peter took a shuddering breath and Sylar held him a little tighter, pressed their foreheads together and spoke softly to him, "Talk to me Peter."
"I don't care what they think," Peter said, tried to put conviction into his voice, "I won't let them ruin this."
"You care Peter," Sylar replied gently, thumb rubbing comfortingly at the small of his back, "you don't want to care what they think, but you do."
"Using a power on me is cheating," Peter sniffed.
Sylar chuckled and Peter felt it rumble in his chest, "I don't need to. I just know you," he murmured and kissed Peter's forehead sweetly.
"I love you," Peter sighed, pressed his cheek against Sylar's shoulder and wrapped his arms a little tighter.
"I love you too," Sylar replied, resting his chin on the top of Peter's head, warm breath tickling Peter's scalp.
Peter was about to tilt his head up for a kiss when a loud chirp emanated from his nightstand.
He groaned, pressed his face into Sylar's shoulder with a heavy sigh.
"Phone," came his muffled voice.
He detached from Sylar unhappily, sat down on the bed to read the message.
His eyes widened, mouth open in shock and Sylar was next to him in an instant, plucking the phone from his lax fingers.
"'Thought you should be warned that Angela's going to wear black to the wedding. Pink ok for me? –Claire.' Well, I'll be damned," Sylar muttered, "miracles happen."
Peter looked up at him, still too stunned for a proper reaction.
"Tell her that's fine," Peter said softly, and Sylar typed a quick reply before putting the phone down to kneel in front of him.
"You ok?" he asked, a concerned crease between his thick eyebrows and finally Peter smiled.
"Perfect. Absolutely perfect."
Sylar smiled in return and leaned in to kiss him.
Peter grinned against his mouth, wrapped his arms around Sylar's neck and pulled the taller man forward onto him on the bed, bodies pressed close and warm and Sylar gave a little moan into his mouth.
"We're supposed to be getting ready," he managed to pull away enough to say, and Peter scoffed.
"It's not like they can start without us," he replied, and Sylar started laughing, peppered Peter's face with kisses and Peter slid his finger into Sylar's thick hair to hold him still and kiss his mouth.
"You're too cute Petrelli," he murmured with a grin, and Peter made to shut him up with a kiss-
Tap tap tap!
There was a knock on the door and Peter groaned, head thumping back against the mattress wearily.
"Figures," he sighed, and Sylar laughed again, looking in the direction of the door.
"It's Emma," he informed Peter before gently detaching himself as the door clicked open.
Peter stayed on the bed as Sylar went to great her.
She came in wearing a pretty green dress and her hair up in an elegant twist at the back of her head, grinning sweetly at them.
She accepted Sylar's kiss on the cheek before turning to Peter with a raised eyebrow and hands on her hips.
"Aren't you two ready yet?" she asked, "You're going to be late to your own wedding!"
Sylar grinned at Peter before touching Emma's shoulder to get her attention.
"Sorry," he told her, "we got… distracted."
She rolled her eyes but still smiled amusedly as she ordered, "Well, get undistracted so we can go!"
"Yes ma'am," Sylar saluted obediently and she whacked him on the shoulder playfully as the two men grabbed their jackets, made last minute tweaks to their bowties, smoothed any out-of-place hair, and stood ready for inspection.
Emma looked them both over with a critical eye.
"Gorgeous," she finally declared, then opened the apartment door to grandly gesture them out.
Sylar slid his hand into Peter's and entwined their fingers lovingly.
"Ready?" he asked, and Peter couldn't help but smile.
"Let's get married."
A/N: I realize the text from Claire was a tad too convenient, but it was a problem that needed a resolution, damnit, and I was going to make it work! Lol. The review button gives a much needed shot of sugar-balancing insulin, so you might want to take advantage of that on your way out…