Title: Body Language
Characters: Peter Petrelli, Sylar
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Word count: 500
Setting: The Wall
Summary: Peter tries to explain himself to Sylar.

Peter gave Sylar a friendly shove as he came over to the pool table. It was like many others Peter had given the man and as usual, Sylar's response was defensive. Or maybe offended. He drew himself up and looked at Peter archly, as though daring him to assault him a second time. Peter rolled his eyes and started to walk away, then something occurred to him.

Peter wheeled fast enough that Sylar stiffened again, but Peter ignored it. "When I shove you like that, I'm trying to say something. It's not an attack; it's a question. Do you get that?"

Sylar said nothing, but his posture loosened somewhat. His expression was disbelieving in addition to wary.

Peter tilted his head to one side, taking in Sylar's own wordless communication. "Okay," he said more gently. "When I shove you, I'm asking how things are between us. I'm asking in a way where you don't have to put it into words, because it's not really a thing words express very well. If you push back hard, and you're not clearly just being overenthusiastic, then you're probably angry at me or afraid. You want to be in charge. You're letting me know by shoving me around harder than I pushed you. If you push back a little, then either I'm not worth your time, or you're annoyed at me but not enough to do anything about it. If you push back the same, more or less, then I know we're cool. It's call-and-response. It's reciprocal behavior. Animals do it – courtship, bonding, pack identity – all that stuff. And if you won't play my game at all, then we aren't friends on any level. Things are deadly serious between us – and you're putting me on notice."

Sylar had listened with surprising attentiveness throughout Peter's explanation. Now he looked down at himself, then at his shoulder, then at Peter. He looked suspicious and uncertain.

Peter went on, "But I know you. I've done this enough times – touched your elbow, jogged your arm, play-punched you in the shoulder, that I know you're not acting this way because you're going to kill me. It just now occurred to me that you don't know what I'm looking for as a response, or maybe even why I keep doing this."

"Why do you keep doing this?"

Peter pursed his lips and rolled his eyes. Then he walked over and pushed on Sylar with both hands, palms out. Sylar stumbled back a step, drawing in air and looking alarmed. Peter pushed him again. This time Sylar lashed out and shoved him back, hard. Peter stopped, rocked back by the impact. "See?"

Sylar waited a beat, then pushed Peter again, gentler. Peter waited a moment as well, then copied Sylar's action and intensity. Sylar looked at him like he had a second head, then laughed out loud. He reached out and tousled Peter's hair. "You're something else, Petrelli."

Peter chuckled, raking a hand through his hair to sort it out. Sylar walked off to circle the pool table and took up his cue stick. Peter asked him, "You get it now though, right?"

"What I 'get' is that I've been telling you loud and clear I would kill you if you touched me. You've understood that perfectly – crystal clear." Sylar tilted his head with an amused expression. "And yet you keep doing it anyway."