TM 234: Utopia
It's a perfect fall day in New York, and Miles has to wonder as he walks out of his apartment building if it's the first sign of the apocalypse. It is, after all, New York. He knows for a fact nothing's ever completely perfect. Still, as he heads down the street to meet up with friends, he finds himself accept it pretty fast anyway. It's too nice not to love it.
"Miles!"
He turns around to see Lorelai running out of the house, and feels his eyes bulge out of his head at the tiny yet familiar Catholic schoolgirl outfit she was wearing. Familiar, because the last time he'd laid eyes on that, it'd been on Sasha. They were trading costumes now? Sasha had actually gotten her to wear a costume to begin with? There was a God after all!
Since she smiled at him and ran up, throwing her arms around his neck and planting one hell of a kiss on him, he wasn't about to ask questions. Or complain. At all. Ever. "Hey." She grinned, and he grinned back, and then there was another kiss that was even longer than the first. "I'll see you when you get home?"
"It won't take long." He promised, and then there was a third kiss that made him seriously consider staying. But no, no, he had obligations. Bros before hos, and all that shit. One last kiss before he pulled away. "Eight or nine, tops." Earlier than his usual, but he was willing to make the sacrifice.
Lorelai laughed, walking backwards towards the house with her hands behind her back, which made the half open white button down shirt expose just enough of a white lacy bra underneath. Had he been a lesser man, Miles would be biting his fist right about now. "Good." She smirked. "I've got more of these in the closet. Along with some stuff I just bought. Unless you're not interested..."
"I'm interested." It flew out of his mouth involuntarily, and he would have cringed at it were the whole thing not so great. "I'll see you tonight." And before he could change his mind, he turned and continued down the street.
He was halfway to the diner he was headed for when his cellphone went off. Sasha. Miles smirked as he picked up. "Calling to make me thank you for all the new shit you gave her?" Because she would do that to him, wouldn't she.
"No." Sasha replied casually, and he could hear water sloshing around in the background. Bubble bath. "Just calling to let you know Peter and I broke up." There was no inflection that told him she was upset about that, no barely concealed sniffles, nothing. He couldn't sense anything off.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Although he couldn't hear anything, Miles didn't trust the tone.
He could, however, hear her rolling her eyes when she spoke next. "Yeah, Miles, I'm fucking kidding you. I'm running off for my next Vegas marriage as we speak. I really hope this one sticks this time, we're thinking of getting an Elvis preacher to do the wedding. I think it'll make it extra special. What do you think?"
"Fucking hysterical." But there had to be... Was she really alright? "What happened?"
There was a shrug in her voice. "It's not working. And I can't be expected to stick with a guy that clingy, especially when he hasn't been able to get it up for the last two weeks. So I'm single again. You want to go out tomorrow?"
"Sure." Miles was still laughing over the idea of Peter's 'troubles', and had to bite back the million and one jokes that came to mind. "I'll call you."
"Alright. Later."
"Later." He hung up, turning onto the street and heading closer to the diner. Could this day get any better?
Maybe. "Miles!"
Petrelli. Miles felt his defenses go up. Was the guy here to pick a fight? If so, he was all for it. Not being Sasha's fiancee anymore meant free reign. And that was great. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Peter sighed, looking ever the kicked puppy as he came to a stop a few inches away from him. "Listen, now that Sasha and I broke up... I feel like I owe you an apology. You were right, I didn't know what I was doing when I came to her. And, look... I'm going to do something to make it up to you, alright?" He held his arms out at his sides. "I'm going to give you a free shot. Hit me."
Miles couldn't help but gape. Was he serious?!
"I mean it." Peter laughed. "No reprocussions, nothing, just hit me."
Gaping very quickly became being fucking gleeful. Today really was the perfect day. "Alright." He nodded, right hand balling into a fist. He pulled it back, ready to give the best knock out punch he'd ever delivered. He was fucking psyched. He never got away with this. It'd be perfect. "Ready?"
"Ready." Peter nodded, grinning that grin that always made Miles want to kick the shit out of him. It just made it that much better. "Come on, Miles. Hit me."
And Miles let his fist fly...
... And then he woke up.
On his couch, in his living room, staring at the blank TV set in abject confusion. Where was Petrelli? Where was the hit? Where was his girlfriend in a sexy outfit, and Sasha back to normal?
Three minutes of silence, and then he finally understood.
It'd been a dream.
"... Oh, fuck!"
Muse: Miles Lawson
Fandom: Original Character
Word Count: 932
"Miles!"
He turns around to see Lorelai running out of the house, and feels his eyes bulge out of his head at the tiny yet familiar Catholic schoolgirl outfit she was wearing. Familiar, because the last time he'd laid eyes on that, it'd been on Sasha. They were trading costumes now? Sasha had actually gotten her to wear a costume to begin with? There was a God after all!
Since she smiled at him and ran up, throwing her arms around his neck and planting one hell of a kiss on him, he wasn't about to ask questions. Or complain. At all. Ever. "Hey." She grinned, and he grinned back, and then there was another kiss that was even longer than the first. "I'll see you when you get home?"
"It won't take long." He promised, and then there was a third kiss that made him seriously consider staying. But no, no, he had obligations. Bros before hos, and all that shit. One last kiss before he pulled away. "Eight or nine, tops." Earlier than his usual, but he was willing to make the sacrifice.
Lorelai laughed, walking backwards towards the house with her hands behind her back, which made the half open white button down shirt expose just enough of a white lacy bra underneath. Had he been a lesser man, Miles would be biting his fist right about now. "Good." She smirked. "I've got more of these in the closet. Along with some stuff I just bought. Unless you're not interested..."
"I'm interested." It flew out of his mouth involuntarily, and he would have cringed at it were the whole thing not so great. "I'll see you tonight." And before he could change his mind, he turned and continued down the street.
He was halfway to the diner he was headed for when his cellphone went off. Sasha. Miles smirked as he picked up. "Calling to make me thank you for all the new shit you gave her?" Because she would do that to him, wouldn't she.
"No." Sasha replied casually, and he could hear water sloshing around in the background. Bubble bath. "Just calling to let you know Peter and I broke up." There was no inflection that told him she was upset about that, no barely concealed sniffles, nothing. He couldn't sense anything off.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Although he couldn't hear anything, Miles didn't trust the tone.
He could, however, hear her rolling her eyes when she spoke next. "Yeah, Miles, I'm fucking kidding you. I'm running off for my next Vegas marriage as we speak. I really hope this one sticks this time, we're thinking of getting an Elvis preacher to do the wedding. I think it'll make it extra special. What do you think?"
"Fucking hysterical." But there had to be... Was she really alright? "What happened?"
There was a shrug in her voice. "It's not working. And I can't be expected to stick with a guy that clingy, especially when he hasn't been able to get it up for the last two weeks. So I'm single again. You want to go out tomorrow?"
"Sure." Miles was still laughing over the idea of Peter's 'troubles', and had to bite back the million and one jokes that came to mind. "I'll call you."
"Alright. Later."
"Later." He hung up, turning onto the street and heading closer to the diner. Could this day get any better?
Maybe. "Miles!"
Petrelli. Miles felt his defenses go up. Was the guy here to pick a fight? If so, he was all for it. Not being Sasha's fiancee anymore meant free reign. And that was great. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Peter sighed, looking ever the kicked puppy as he came to a stop a few inches away from him. "Listen, now that Sasha and I broke up... I feel like I owe you an apology. You were right, I didn't know what I was doing when I came to her. And, look... I'm going to do something to make it up to you, alright?" He held his arms out at his sides. "I'm going to give you a free shot. Hit me."
Miles couldn't help but gape. Was he serious?!
"I mean it." Peter laughed. "No reprocussions, nothing, just hit me."
Gaping very quickly became being fucking gleeful. Today really was the perfect day. "Alright." He nodded, right hand balling into a fist. He pulled it back, ready to give the best knock out punch he'd ever delivered. He was fucking psyched. He never got away with this. It'd be perfect. "Ready?"
"Ready." Peter nodded, grinning that grin that always made Miles want to kick the shit out of him. It just made it that much better. "Come on, Miles. Hit me."
And Miles let his fist fly...
... And then he woke up.
On his couch, in his living room, staring at the blank TV set in abject confusion. Where was Petrelli? Where was the hit? Where was his girlfriend in a sexy outfit, and Sasha back to normal?
Three minutes of silence, and then he finally understood.
It'd been a dream.
"... Oh, fuck!"
Muse: Miles Lawson
Fandom: Original Character
Word Count: 932