Nathan Petrelli's last thoughts were about his brother.

Sylar didn't really think about it further until a few weeks after the explosion and the election, when Peter had healed and he had been standing there, all dressed up, ready to play the part of Nathan Petrelli. Peter's eyes flipped opened and there was just something in his voice that told Sylar everything he needed to know.

In his mind, Sylar smiled. It was interesting how very fucked up Peter Petrelli was. The self-proclaimed hero that would save the day had ended up causing the very thing he'd been set to stop.

So Sylar had hugged his "brother" and felt pleased how Peter had clung to him, the little extra squeeze Peter added before he pulled away. The gaze that lingered longer than it should've.

It was very interesting indeed.

"How are you, Pete?" Sylar asked. It was still strange to hear Nathan's voice as he spoke.

Peter looked dazzled and confused. "I'm fine…" he paused as he started to remember, "The explosion, Nathan… I caused the explosion!"

Sylar bent forward, touching Peter's cheek, his thumb for a second caressing it. For a moment Sylar noticed how Peter almost closed his eyes for a tiny second.

Oh, this is going to be fun.

"I know," Sylar said, trying his best to sound calm, dark and reassuring, "Don't worry about it."

Peter suddenly looked around like a scared rabbit. "They'll be looking for me! You have to do something! All those people! Nathan, I killed all those people!" The devastation in Peter's eyes was almost touching.

"Don't worry," Sylar said, trying to pull his best Nathan Petrelli impersonation, "I'll take care of it."

Peter looked surprised, Sylar noted, but not as surprised as he should be.

He'd just killed millions of people and Nathan was willing to let it never be known.

So this was something that Nathan would do…

Interesting.

"Now," he continued, "Stay here and rest for a while. You're exhausted. I'll come with breakfast in the morning."

Peter's eyes flickered to the window. It was night.

Sylar stood up, walking up to the door but just as he was about to walk away, he turned around and let a lingering gaze on Peter before slowly turning around again and walk out.

He smiled a mischievous grin as he walked away from the closed door.

Oh, how fun he'd have – fucking up Peter Petrelli's life.

For the next following days, Sylar left little hints of affection linger all around Peter. An extra hug. A lingering touch. Eyes that said everything and nothing.

It was hilarious and interesting to see how very appreciative and receptive Peter was for all of these things. He never looked confused, in that way and he seemed to appreciate the "attention" that "Nathan" was paying to him.

Of course, the little fucked up saint had been very reluctant not to take his responsibility but Sylar found it sickly fascinating about blaming the explosion on himself. Somehow, his name would be eternal – it would be written down in history books for centuries.

Playing Nathan Petrelli for the rest of his life wouldn't make him famous. It would just leave another little historical mention of how great Nathan Petrelli was. His name, Sylar, would disappear without anyone besides a handful of people knowing it.

Blaming himself for the tragedy would make him immortal.

"Look, Nathan," Peter said one day, "I really appreciate all the attention you're giving me but I'm not made of glass. I can take care of myself."

"I know," Sylar said, putting the food tray on the balcony table and then placed himself next to Peter, putting a hand on his shoulder, "I just wanna make sure you're okay."

Suddenly Peter weaselled out of his touch. "I'm not okay." His voice was so gloomy and angsty that Sylar would've sighed if he didn't use all the self-restraints he had. Peter was perhaps interesting but so incredibly overdramatic.

Sylar took a few steps forward and placed both hands on Peter's shoulders, causing him to turn around and stare into his "big-brother"'s eyes.

"What happened to all those people," Sylar said, trying to get the feeling in his voice right, "It wasn't your fault. You can't help your powers. You didn't choose them. You had no choice."

"There's always a choice," Peter replied fiercely, his eyes glittering with anger as if he was angry that he couldn't blame himself. It was as if he needed to blame himself. "If I'd killed myself when I first learned that I was the bomb-"

"Don't say that," Sylar interrupted, feeling as though he should win an Academy Award for Best Performance, "Don't you ever say that, Peter. I couldn't have made it here without you. You couldn't have saved Claire… You did good, Peter. You did the only thing you could do."

"But it didn't change anything. All those people still died."

Sylar paused. "Sometimes, Peter, people have to die. That's the only way to make a difference."

Peter looked away as if he was uncomfortable with the truth but Sylar forced him to keep their eyes locked and he took a step closer. Now they were standing extremely close but Peter didn't flinch.

"Look, Peter. You have to understand," Sylar's thumb caressed Peter's cheek again, "I wouldn't be here without you. Think about all the good I can do – that we can do now. I have all the power I need now. We can make a difference. We can make people aware about us, and we can make sure that they don't freak out-"

"I thought you didn't want us to go public." Now there was confusion all over his face and Sylar realized he must've said something wrong.

Damn.

"It was different before," Sylar said, trying to cover up his mistake, "Now I'm in Congress and I can make sure that the right image of us and our abilities are given by the media."

They didn't say anything more about it.

Two weeks later Peter was still living with Sylar. Sylar had now met "his" mother and he was fairly certain that she was somewhat suspicious about him, not that she'd ever find out though. But she'd left and there hadn't been any problems emerging from it so Sylar decided that he was still in the clear.

One day, when Sylar ate dinner, as he was leaving another of those lingering gazes that Peter immediately noticed and replied, he decided that it was time.

It was time for him to have a little bit of fun.

A small hint of a smile played across his lips even though he tried to prevent it. This was definitely most interesting.

Later that night, when Sylar was certain that Peter was getting into bed, he knocked on his door. There were two hard knocks and a few seconds later Peter opened the door. At first he looked confused, squinting against the light and the entire room behind him was dark besides a little lap by his bed.

The situation was perfect.

"Nathan, what is it?"

"I…" Sylar's voice trailed off, "I just… Forget about it… I shouldn't dump all my troubles on you." He turned around to walk away but Peter's hand gripped his arm tightly and kept him from walking away.

"Nathan, what is it?" he repeated his question and Sylar did his best to sound troubled.

"It's Heidi… I just… things aren't… they aren't going so well."

His eyes looked away from Peter and Sylar realized that the ball was entirely in Peter's court. With only a movement, he could destroy it all, but he was playing himself right into his hands. Peter stepped away from the door way and let Sylar in.

As he walked inside, Sylar came face to face with Peter for a moment, making certain that their faces were extremely close, his hand brushed against Peter's arm. He looked with his intense-est gaze at Peter and Sylar knew he had him right where he wanted him.

Now it was just to enjoy the moment.

As the door closed, Sylar sat down on Peter's bed, folding his hands into his lap, looking down at his own legs. Peter was quick to be by his side, putting his arm over his shoulder and leaned his face closely to Sylar's. His breath was warm against Sylar's (Nathan's) skin and Sylar felt a tingle rush through his body.

If Sylar was a cat, he'd be purring.

"Nathan, what's wrong?"

"I don't wanna talk about it."

Sylar pulled away from Peter, as if to show that there really was trouble in paradise. Peter was quick to follow his movement and it wasn't long until they were in the same position again only a bit further up on the bed.

"You can tell me." His warm breath played across Sylar's skin again and the concern in his voice was so deep, so raw…

Sylar flickered his eyes at Peter, mustering up all the emotion he could. Peter's eyes were intense, deep, raw and a million adjectives that there weren't words for. It was different for Sylar to experience this, but that was what made it so exciting.

He was going to crush Peter Petrelli like a bug. He was going to make him wish he had never been born.

"We were fighting… She said the stupidest things…" Sylar looked away and left a snort hanging in the air but as he was turning away he saw a spark of interest light in Peter's eyes.

Sylar stood up abruptly. "I don't wanna talk about it," he said harshly, trying walk towards the door but Peter's arm grabbed a hold of him with such force that his arm almost ached.

"You wanna talk about it. You wouldn't come here if you didn't."

Sylar looked at Peter, trying to mix his expression to something between anger, tension, love and hurt. Translating Peter's expression, he decided that he succeeded.

"I don't know what I came here for."

There was a moment, which Sylar had planned, where nothing and everything were said between them. Peter stared at him, his hand still tightly around Sylar's arm. Sylar took a step forward; walking up so close that there was nothing even remotely resembling personal space between them. For the past few weeks, he'd worked his way under Peter Petrelli's skin and now he was going to make that skin crawl… scream… be on fire…

"You don't wanna know." Sylar said darkly and now all he needed was to wait for the opportune moment.

Peter gazed at Sylar as if he understood what it meant. But he stood there, calm and collected as if he didn't mind. As if he could handle any secret.

"You can tell me." Peter said and Sylar decided that it was time.

Sylar put his hands on Peter's neck and pulled him into a rough kiss, trying to press in all the anxiety and sexual tension that he had created between them ever since he'd taken over Nathan Petrelli's life. Peter's lips were rough against his own.

Peter didn't react at first. His entire body froze and then tensed up, but Sylar had been around long enough to know that it wasn't a bad tensing up. He was doing everything exactly right. Peter wanted this and that was just what he'd discovered.

That frightened Peter beyond anything else.

Sylar could easily imagine that Peter would've wanted this for years and years without knowing it and now realizing it must be extremely earth shattering. Everything Peter Petrelli had fooled himself to believe was crashing down around him.

Sylar pressed their lips firmer together and even though Peter was probably trying to get his body to pull away, Sylar managed to sneak his tongue between Peter's lips. He put all his energy into the kiss. This would be his greatest achievement – the downfall of Peter Petrelli.

Peter let out a moan of pleasure despite himself and that was the jolt that Peter needed to understand what was going on. He pulled out of the kiss and almost physically fought his way out of Sylar's presence. He was panting heavily and his eyes were crossed somewhere between a dreamy expression and a terrified one.

"W-what?…" Peter didn't understand.

Sylar noticed he was breathing heavily too. That kiss, even though it had been rather one-sided, hadn't been half bad. He couldn't wait to see what Peter could do once he'd wrapped his mind around this…

He marched forward, his eyes exclusively on Peter.

"I told you…" he said, "You don't want to know."

A feeling entered Peter's eyes again which Sylar thought seemed to be regret. Peter Petrelli was definitely just as fucked up as he thought he'd be. Peter took a step forward.

"It's okay… Nathan, it's okay."

The personal space was non-existent again. Peter put his hand on Nathan's cheek, stared into his eyes and then he carefully leaned in and kissed his "brother" firmly on the mouth. Even though Peter's brain was probably telling him that this was wrong, every fibre of his body told him this was right.

Sylar replied the kiss with a vengeance. This was… great. They started moaning and pressing up against each other, their bodies rubbing together as their hands found their way to each other's necks and the kiss grew more and more intense.

Sylar pushed Peter around the room, trying to find something that would stop them, so that he could press himself as close to him as possible. He hated Peter with every ounce of his body and he was enjoying this far too much but he said it was because after this, the downfall of Peter Petrelli would be certain.

Finally they crashed down on the bed, landing with a harsh 'thmp'. Sylar felt Peter's body above him and realized that there was no way that he could be bottom in this. He had too much he wanted to do to Peter, too much he wanted to do to make his skin crawl and make him have the most unforgettable night of his life.

He wanted to be certain that Peter would never forget this night for as long as he lived because that would make his revenge all too sweet.

With a turn, Sylar ended up on top of Peter and he kissed him fiercely as he was pulling Peter's white shirt upwards, his hands travelling across Peter's stomach while doing so.

There was a brief moment of no contact between their lips and for Sylar, it felt oddly long. But soon his annoying shirt was off him and lying somewhere on the floor and they proceeded.

It was a dance. There was ripping, pulling, tugging, biting, kisses, nails scratching and at one point Peter bit Sylar's lip so hard that a bit of blood emerged from it.

Clothes were scattered all around the room and Sylar was sure that they could be heard from miles away because it was far away from quiet. Peter's desire increased his own and Sylar's excitement for revenge was only over-shadowed by Peter's excitement of finally realizing what he'd been missing – as twisted as it sounded.

As Peter came, Sylar couldn't help but smile broadly, maliciously.

This was the downfall of Peter Petrelli.

Part Two coming soon.