Claude observed Peter from across the roof with half narrowed eyes. He stood at the edge of the building with his hands on the balcony, his head bowed. He stood very still. Claude wondered if he was crying. He snorted in disgust and strode up behind him. "It's cold. Come inside."
Peter hardly glanced at him. "In a minute."
Irritated, Claude reached out for his shoulder, maybe to get him inside by force, only to have him dodge away without even looking. Claude laughed. "Reflexes are getting better, pup. Pity it doesn't show when it has to."
"What, when you hit me with sticks?"
"In this life, people will do more than hit you with sticks," Claude told him seriously.
Peter didn't react.
"Now get in. It's freezing out here."
"Wait, I wanna show you..I've been practising but I can't quite.."
"What are on you on about now?"
"There!" Peter cried happily, triumphantly, almost like a child. It startled Claude a little. Peter pointed to the road, and Claude gasped at the now still cars. New York frozen. He barely had time to take it in when it was over. Claude blinked a few times and turned back to Peter, who was trying and failing to not look pleased with himself.
"Not bad," he allowed. "Now come inside."
Peter didn't argue. They ducked through the door into the abandoned building and flopped at either end of the giant mattress. Claude leaned against the wall and folded his hands over his stomach.
"You're quiet," he remarked, after a bit.
Peter came out of his thoughts with a short start. "What?"
"I said, 'you're quiet',".
Peter shrugged. "So are you."
"That's no shocker. You're the one who always has something to whine about."
"Shut up," he muttered. He wasn't even sticking up for himself properly, let alone carrying a conversation.
"Is it your brother?" He asked suddenly. He could have kicked himself as soon as he said it. He wanted to distract Peter of all that, not remind him of it.
Peter met his eyes in surprise, but Claude only looked back at him coolly, carefully expressionless. "Yeah," he answered. "He, I.." He looked at Claude warily, faintly blushing, and thought better of it. "It doesn't matter."
Claude looked at Peter stonily, who avoided his gaze. Fine. Let him clam up. "Suit yourself."
Peter caught something in his voice but decided, for now, at least, to let it lie. He was too tired for any shit. He mumbled something about going to sleep and lay on his side, drawing his legs up slightly.
Claude watched him for a while. After a bit he sighed and moved beside him, feeling the warmth from his body. He reached out a hand and touched his hair, briefly, with some affection, before closing his eyes and withdrawing it. He forced himself back to his end of the mattress. He forced himself to look away. He wasn't attracted to that little pup, not in the slightest. As if he didn't have enough to think about.
Far from amazing, I know, but I had to get this out my head. I never write well on school nights =(