This Is NOT a Good Thing

[flying_monkees]

Title: This Is NOT a Good Thing
Characters: Mylar, Peter
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Wince worthy imagery.
Disclaimer: Heroes does not belong to me no matter how much I wish it did.
Summary: Peter comes to talk to Mohinder and finds a very uncomfortable Sylar.
Table/Prompt:  This is for mission_insane's Un-Themed #1/Cupboard and piping_hot's Sketchy Mylar Challenge's "I don't deserve this."
A/N:  This comes from a conversation that a friend and I had on AIM one night (you know who you are!).  This is why it's dangerous to tell me stories.  Much thanks to flwrpwr_vampyre and pyjamagurl for beta'ing for me.

 

Peter blinked into Mohinder’s lab, looking around in surprise.  Mohinder was throwing things around, digging into drawers and tossing papers onto the floor.

 

“Mohinder?  What are you doing?”  Peter asked, sidestepping as a notebook went flying past his head.  He frowned, hearing howling coming from the back room.  “What the hell is going on?”

 

Mohinder turned towards Peter, eyes wide.  “Peter!  Thank god you’re here.  I need your help.  Can you help me find a bottle brush?” he asked wildly, moving over to the cupboards by the sink, digging in them.

 

“Bottle brush?  Why?”  Peter opened a cupboard, starting to look through it.  “And what the hell is that noise going on back there?  Do you have a hurt animal back there?”  He shut the doors, going to the next cupboard.

 

“Huh?  No, that’s Sylar.”  Mohinder said distractedly as he moved to the next set of doors.

 

“Sylar?  What the hell’s going on Mohinder, he sounds like he’s in a lot of pain.”  Peter frowned down at Mohinder, starting to walk back to where the sounds were coming from.

 

“We were playing around, having some fun.  He’d gotten some new lube and…well…he’s very allergic to one of the ingredients…”  Mohinder blushed, not looking up at Peter.

 

Peter gaped at Mohinder before hurrying to the back room.  Sylar lay curled up on the bed, body shaking, whimpers and moans coming from him as tears ran down his face.  “Dammit Mohinder, have you found it yet!”  Sylar nearly screamed.  “It burns!”

 

Peter looked towards Mohinder, hearing him mutter from the other room “I don’t deserve this…”, before he turned back to Sylar.

 

“Uh…I don’t think a bottle brush is a good idea Sylar.”  Peter said, staring at the naked man writhing in pain on the bed.  “Maybe an enema?” 

If looks could kill, Peter would’ve been dead already.  Giving Sylar a small smile, he blinked back home.  No way was he sticking around to see that!