LukexSylar Fic Challenge 3: That strange prompt thing
Title: What Lies Within
Author: carmexgirl
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Sylar/Luke
Word Count: 2,335
Summary: Sylar finally gives Luke what he wants. Or does he?
Warning: Luke is 17, which may be underage in some places.
A/N: For the LukexSylar fic challenge 3: "Fools and thralls talk of good and evil. Their masters think in time and place" from Dragon Outcast by E. E. Knight. The prompt looked a little lonely, so I wrote this quite quickly. All mistakes are mine, and mine alone.
He knows he’s been waiting for him. Waiting desperately for him to finally bring the release that he has been craving for days now. It had been almost painfully obvious to Sylar-large eyes staring at him with longing, those delicious lips parted slightly as he gazes over his body when they’re getting changed. He knows it’s just puppy love, some kind of adolescent adoration, but he can’t help revelling in it; can’t help taking his clothes off slowly, pulling his boxers down further than he normally would to reveal an inch of pubic hair as a taster for what lies underneath; can’t help bending down at the slightest opportunity, making sure Luke has a full view of his ass, and can’t help moaning loudly when he takes himself in hand in the bathroom, letting Luke know exactly what he’s doing in there.
He loves it. He loves being adored as much as he loves being infamous. He’d never thought about it before, but having someone around to validate your actions is extremely gratifying. Someone to tell you how wonderful you are; how strong, how powerful, how feared. Someone to follow in your every footstep. Though Luke may not be the most handsome companion he has ever had, he is certainly the most malleable, the one most open to his teachings, the one most likely to do exactly what he wants. And so for the past five days, Sylar has held back, knowing instantly that he was open to be taken right from the start of their journey. He has been testing him, seeing how strong he is, and so far, he has proved himself almost worthy.
He’s watched as Luke stares at him with worshipping eyes, watching and copying everything he does, listens to his words as though he is some kind of Prophet, speaking the words of God. His words are not of peace though; they are of fire, and hatred, and revenge, and Luke has taken it all in, followed it all to the letter like a good disciple. Now, Sylar knows, it’s time for both of them to take their reward. It’s time for him to give Luke what he has apparently been craving, what he has wanted since their first meeting. It’s time he took Luke like he desperately wants him to, make him truly his.
It happens that evening, exactly like he’s planned. They book themselves into a motel in a double room, the rooms being large and relatively clean. He lies and says it’s the only room that’s left, smiling at the way Luke widens his eyes and licks his lips. He finds himself repeating the action, smiling when Luke stares at him, his red lips glistening with his saliva. He imagines how his cock would look sliding in between those willing lips, brushing the back of his throat as he moans, and he shivers slightly with anticipation. His grin broadens as he feels his cock twitch slightly in his pants. Tonight he thinks, tonight you will be mine.
He starts to undress slowly, taking time to remove every piece of clothing and making sure to touch every part of himself under Luke’s lustful, yet slightly inquisitive gaze. He sits down in a tattered old chair, running a hand over his crotch and moaning quietly. He doesn’t even need to open his eyes to know that Luke is staring at him, watching the display and wanting him utterly. He can feel the tension in the air, and he loves it. He loves teasing him because for all Luke knows, it will be another night of frustration, another night of denial, or wanting what he’s not worthy to have. He has no idea that tonight, Sylar will finally put an end to that longing, teasing out his frustration in a series of moans and cries.
Luke sits on the bed, grabbing the slightly sticky remote and turning on the television. The sudden noise makes Sylar wince slightly, and he is angered that he is no longer the centre of attention until his hearing adjusts to hear exactly what’s been said. There is talk of murder, of kidnapping, sounds of sobbing and a cry for help. He sees Luke smile as the blue images flicker over his face, and he can’t help but match it.
“They’re calling you evil,” he says, eyes flicking towards Sylar. “My mother said you were a monster.”
“They don’t know the half of it,” Sylar smiles. And it’s true; they don’t. They think of him in terms of killing, torture and kidnapping. They do not understand the extent of his power. He alone knows true evil; only he alone knows what he is capable of, and the mere thought sends shivers of unbridled joy down his spine.
“They’re worried for my safety. They’re even speculating that I may be dead already.”
He laughs a deep, hollow laugh. “Such presumptions,” he says lightly. “They really can’t think of anything original. Besides, your mother could call your cell and see for herself. She just chooses to act the victim.”
He watches as Luke smiles. “I know you won’t kill me. Will you?” The last part is said in a slightly pleading tone, and Luke stares at him, a smile dancing on his lips but not daring to break across them.
Sylar knows this is the perfect opportunity. He walks over to him slowly, purposefully taking the remote out of his hand and tossing it to the side. Luke stares at him as he leans over, the TV still blaring out words like ‘murderer,’ ‘psychopath’ and ‘evil’. He smiles as he listens, before brushing his lips against Luke’s. Luke starts, surprised at the sudden and unexpected contact. After a moment, he seems to collect himself and starts to respond, tongue delicately tracing the line of Sylar’s lips. He breathes in, parting his lips slightly, and Sylar takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside, to taste every part of him.
He tastes sweet, a mixture of candy and monosodium glutamate from all of the roadside diners they’ve been eating at. Sylar angles his head, deepening the kiss and forcing his tongue further inside. Luke attempts to copy the action, tongue swirling around Sylar’s mouth while his hands move across Sylar’s torso. Sylar grips his hips, while his mind works his t-shirt up. He feels Luke’s body tense, and again a shiver of joy runs down his spine. He’s giving Luke exactly what he wants; if he wanted to he could stop this right here, leave him hanging, safe in the knowledge that Luke will always come back for more. He contemplates it for a brief second, then Luke lets out a moan as his hand brushes his nipple, and he feels himself grow fully hard at the prospect of making him moan his name in the midst of the best orgasm he’s ever had.
They part so he can pull Luke’s t shirt off, and he smiles at the pale, pliant body underneath. He strokes his hands over it gently, making Luke shiver slightly, before he motions for him to lift his hips so he can pull his boxers down. He is slightly disconcerted to find that Luke isn’t hard, given that his own erection is straining against his boxers. He looks at Luke, stares into his eyes for any sign that he doesn’t want to do this. There is no indication, and he reasons that it’s mere first-time nerves and nothing more. He starts to caress his cock slowly, smiling as he feels it begin to harden in his hand. Luke moans and pulls his head back as he is touched, bucking slightly into Sylar’s hands. His hips move in a lithe, confident motion, one which Sylar watches intently, smiling at his desperation, at how much he wants him to make him climax.
He takes his hand away, Luke’s little whimper causing him to almost laugh. He stands up, and pulls his t shirt and boxers off quickly-the time for teasing Luke has passed; now he just wants to claim what is rightfully his. He takes a bottle of lubrication from his bag, and begins slicking his fingers up, watching as the liquid warms in his hand and starts to run through his fingers. When he looks over to the bed, he sees that Luke has already positioned himself, crouching on all fours with his head facing the bedstead. He walks over to him, spreading his cheeks to reveal his pucker, and takes one quick lick, smiling when Luke moans in response.
He prepares him, easing his fingers inside and fucking him slowly, before slicking his cock up and positioning himself at his entrance. “This may hurt,” he says, and Luke merely moans in reply, nodding his head. He enters him, finding less resistance than he expected, and begins to move. “Yes,” he moans, closing his eyes as he thrusts inside him, “Oh yes.” He places a hand in the small of his back, and begins to speed up his strokes. As he throws his head back, he can hear the news report still going on in the background. They are interviewing a psychologist, who attempts to delve in the mind of a serial killer and what he may be feeling right at this moment. Fools, he thinks, they know nothing. He continues to pound into Luke, but he turns his head as far as he can to catch a glimpse of the TV. There’s a photo gallery of all his past victims flashing up on the screen, with the words, “seemingly no connection,” accompanying them. There’s Brian Jenkins, Zane Taylor, the Walkers, Dale Smithers…all framed forever in black and white. Of course, they don’t understand his motives. They think he’s some sort of deranged psychopath. Sylar smiles, knowing that the truth is much more frightening, that if he wanted to, he could obliterate them all in seconds. It’s only by his own volition that he lets them live.
There’s another expert on now, talking about his method of killing. He speeds up some more, feeling his orgasm building up from his legs. He hears Luke moan, and turns back, still listening to the TV. He reaches forward, gripping Luke’s hard cock in order to bring him off only…only Luke isn’t hard. His cock is flaccid, hanging limply between his legs and swinging in time to Sylar’s thrusts. He takes it in his hand, caressing it quickly, but still nothing happens. Feeling frustrated, he started to pound into him, hard and fast, balls slapping against Luke’s skin. Suddenly, he feels Luke clench around him. He hears the word ‘evil’ spoken in a monotone and he can’t stop, he’s thrusting for all he is worth until he comes, hard and fast, deep inside Luke, Luke’s cock in his hand, still only half hard.
He collapses on Luke’s back, panting and shaking slightly, before pulling out of him and stepping off the bed. He stands, his legs shaking, staring at Luke as he turns around and sits on the bed, his legs splayed out. He looks at him, his face flushed slightly. “Was that good?”
“Yes.” Sylar pants. “But you…you didn’t…you weren’t…”
Luke smiles slightly bashfully. “Oh, I never do the first time. I don’t know why; it’s just something with me. Also the setting-I mean, this place is pretty crummy isn’t it? Difficult for me to come in a place like this, when the smell of piss from the toilet is almost overbearing.”
Sylar stared at him. The report on him had finished now, and they had moved on to the weather. He stood there, eyes narrowing at Luke while he smirked at him. “You’ve done this before?”
“Oh yeah. Yeah,” he says rather nonchalantly. “Once I was in this really classy hotel-clean sheets, three course meal…everything. It was…amazing. I came…quite a few times, actually.” He sucks in a breath and closes his eyes as he remembers. “Good times.”
Sylar doesn’t know whether to be angry or ashamed. He thought he was taking Luke for the first time…he thought he was claiming him as his own, that when he came, it would be through him and him alone. Not this.
His thoughts are a blur-he can’t seem to think straight, or work out whether he should be apoplectic or embarrassed. He watches as Luke reaches a pale hand down to his crotch, and begins to fondle himself. He stares at his cock, which hardens almost instantly at his light caresses. Luke grips himself more firmly, and begins to move.
“You don’t mind if I finish myself off, do you?” He says, working up a steady rhythm. “Only, we have a long drive in the morning and I can’t sleep like this.”
Sylar nods his head, completely incredulous.
“We can do this again in the morning, if you want?” He smiles, and Sylar nods again. The movement is almost involuntary. “Oh yeah,” Luke moans as he starts to speed up, his hard cock almost a blur between his fingers, “Oh yeah…we can do it properly. Then you can…oh…you can teach me how to torture…shit…like you did with agent Simmons. ”
Sylar sinks down, and closes his eyes. He’s blocked out the TV now, and his face is burning hot. His head is filled with Luke’s moans and cries as he brings himself to orgasm, someone else’s name on his lips as he comes. It’s too much to bear, so Sylar walks out of the room and stands outside, talking in large gulps of warm night air. It shouldn’t be like this. He should have given Luke the best sex of his life. Luke should be worshipping him like a God, willing to do anything for him. Instead, his only thoughts are what’s going to happen tomorrow, where they are going and what Sylar can teach on along the way.
As he looks back, he can see Luke through the window, cleaning himself up and smiling, one hand on the remote, flicking through the channels. Sylar shivers.
Author: carmexgirl
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Sylar/Luke
Word Count: 2,335
Summary: Sylar finally gives Luke what he wants. Or does he?
Warning: Luke is 17, which may be underage in some places.
A/N: For the LukexSylar fic challenge 3: "Fools and thralls talk of good and evil. Their masters think in time and place" from Dragon Outcast by E. E. Knight. The prompt looked a little lonely, so I wrote this quite quickly. All mistakes are mine, and mine alone.
He knows he’s been waiting for him. Waiting desperately for him to finally bring the release that he has been craving for days now. It had been almost painfully obvious to Sylar-large eyes staring at him with longing, those delicious lips parted slightly as he gazes over his body when they’re getting changed. He knows it’s just puppy love, some kind of adolescent adoration, but he can’t help revelling in it; can’t help taking his clothes off slowly, pulling his boxers down further than he normally would to reveal an inch of pubic hair as a taster for what lies underneath; can’t help bending down at the slightest opportunity, making sure Luke has a full view of his ass, and can’t help moaning loudly when he takes himself in hand in the bathroom, letting Luke know exactly what he’s doing in there.
He loves it. He loves being adored as much as he loves being infamous. He’d never thought about it before, but having someone around to validate your actions is extremely gratifying. Someone to tell you how wonderful you are; how strong, how powerful, how feared. Someone to follow in your every footstep. Though Luke may not be the most handsome companion he has ever had, he is certainly the most malleable, the one most open to his teachings, the one most likely to do exactly what he wants. And so for the past five days, Sylar has held back, knowing instantly that he was open to be taken right from the start of their journey. He has been testing him, seeing how strong he is, and so far, he has proved himself almost worthy.
He’s watched as Luke stares at him with worshipping eyes, watching and copying everything he does, listens to his words as though he is some kind of Prophet, speaking the words of God. His words are not of peace though; they are of fire, and hatred, and revenge, and Luke has taken it all in, followed it all to the letter like a good disciple. Now, Sylar knows, it’s time for both of them to take their reward. It’s time for him to give Luke what he has apparently been craving, what he has wanted since their first meeting. It’s time he took Luke like he desperately wants him to, make him truly his.
It happens that evening, exactly like he’s planned. They book themselves into a motel in a double room, the rooms being large and relatively clean. He lies and says it’s the only room that’s left, smiling at the way Luke widens his eyes and licks his lips. He finds himself repeating the action, smiling when Luke stares at him, his red lips glistening with his saliva. He imagines how his cock would look sliding in between those willing lips, brushing the back of his throat as he moans, and he shivers slightly with anticipation. His grin broadens as he feels his cock twitch slightly in his pants. Tonight he thinks, tonight you will be mine.
He starts to undress slowly, taking time to remove every piece of clothing and making sure to touch every part of himself under Luke’s lustful, yet slightly inquisitive gaze. He sits down in a tattered old chair, running a hand over his crotch and moaning quietly. He doesn’t even need to open his eyes to know that Luke is staring at him, watching the display and wanting him utterly. He can feel the tension in the air, and he loves it. He loves teasing him because for all Luke knows, it will be another night of frustration, another night of denial, or wanting what he’s not worthy to have. He has no idea that tonight, Sylar will finally put an end to that longing, teasing out his frustration in a series of moans and cries.
Luke sits on the bed, grabbing the slightly sticky remote and turning on the television. The sudden noise makes Sylar wince slightly, and he is angered that he is no longer the centre of attention until his hearing adjusts to hear exactly what’s been said. There is talk of murder, of kidnapping, sounds of sobbing and a cry for help. He sees Luke smile as the blue images flicker over his face, and he can’t help but match it.
“They’re calling you evil,” he says, eyes flicking towards Sylar. “My mother said you were a monster.”
“They don’t know the half of it,” Sylar smiles. And it’s true; they don’t. They think of him in terms of killing, torture and kidnapping. They do not understand the extent of his power. He alone knows true evil; only he alone knows what he is capable of, and the mere thought sends shivers of unbridled joy down his spine.
“They’re worried for my safety. They’re even speculating that I may be dead already.”
He laughs a deep, hollow laugh. “Such presumptions,” he says lightly. “They really can’t think of anything original. Besides, your mother could call your cell and see for herself. She just chooses to act the victim.”
He watches as Luke smiles. “I know you won’t kill me. Will you?” The last part is said in a slightly pleading tone, and Luke stares at him, a smile dancing on his lips but not daring to break across them.
Sylar knows this is the perfect opportunity. He walks over to him slowly, purposefully taking the remote out of his hand and tossing it to the side. Luke stares at him as he leans over, the TV still blaring out words like ‘murderer,’ ‘psychopath’ and ‘evil’. He smiles as he listens, before brushing his lips against Luke’s. Luke starts, surprised at the sudden and unexpected contact. After a moment, he seems to collect himself and starts to respond, tongue delicately tracing the line of Sylar’s lips. He breathes in, parting his lips slightly, and Sylar takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside, to taste every part of him.
He tastes sweet, a mixture of candy and monosodium glutamate from all of the roadside diners they’ve been eating at. Sylar angles his head, deepening the kiss and forcing his tongue further inside. Luke attempts to copy the action, tongue swirling around Sylar’s mouth while his hands move across Sylar’s torso. Sylar grips his hips, while his mind works his t-shirt up. He feels Luke’s body tense, and again a shiver of joy runs down his spine. He’s giving Luke exactly what he wants; if he wanted to he could stop this right here, leave him hanging, safe in the knowledge that Luke will always come back for more. He contemplates it for a brief second, then Luke lets out a moan as his hand brushes his nipple, and he feels himself grow fully hard at the prospect of making him moan his name in the midst of the best orgasm he’s ever had.
They part so he can pull Luke’s t shirt off, and he smiles at the pale, pliant body underneath. He strokes his hands over it gently, making Luke shiver slightly, before he motions for him to lift his hips so he can pull his boxers down. He is slightly disconcerted to find that Luke isn’t hard, given that his own erection is straining against his boxers. He looks at Luke, stares into his eyes for any sign that he doesn’t want to do this. There is no indication, and he reasons that it’s mere first-time nerves and nothing more. He starts to caress his cock slowly, smiling as he feels it begin to harden in his hand. Luke moans and pulls his head back as he is touched, bucking slightly into Sylar’s hands. His hips move in a lithe, confident motion, one which Sylar watches intently, smiling at his desperation, at how much he wants him to make him climax.
He takes his hand away, Luke’s little whimper causing him to almost laugh. He stands up, and pulls his t shirt and boxers off quickly-the time for teasing Luke has passed; now he just wants to claim what is rightfully his. He takes a bottle of lubrication from his bag, and begins slicking his fingers up, watching as the liquid warms in his hand and starts to run through his fingers. When he looks over to the bed, he sees that Luke has already positioned himself, crouching on all fours with his head facing the bedstead. He walks over to him, spreading his cheeks to reveal his pucker, and takes one quick lick, smiling when Luke moans in response.
He prepares him, easing his fingers inside and fucking him slowly, before slicking his cock up and positioning himself at his entrance. “This may hurt,” he says, and Luke merely moans in reply, nodding his head. He enters him, finding less resistance than he expected, and begins to move. “Yes,” he moans, closing his eyes as he thrusts inside him, “Oh yes.” He places a hand in the small of his back, and begins to speed up his strokes. As he throws his head back, he can hear the news report still going on in the background. They are interviewing a psychologist, who attempts to delve in the mind of a serial killer and what he may be feeling right at this moment. Fools, he thinks, they know nothing. He continues to pound into Luke, but he turns his head as far as he can to catch a glimpse of the TV. There’s a photo gallery of all his past victims flashing up on the screen, with the words, “seemingly no connection,” accompanying them. There’s Brian Jenkins, Zane Taylor, the Walkers, Dale Smithers…all framed forever in black and white. Of course, they don’t understand his motives. They think he’s some sort of deranged psychopath. Sylar smiles, knowing that the truth is much more frightening, that if he wanted to, he could obliterate them all in seconds. It’s only by his own volition that he lets them live.
There’s another expert on now, talking about his method of killing. He speeds up some more, feeling his orgasm building up from his legs. He hears Luke moan, and turns back, still listening to the TV. He reaches forward, gripping Luke’s hard cock in order to bring him off only…only Luke isn’t hard. His cock is flaccid, hanging limply between his legs and swinging in time to Sylar’s thrusts. He takes it in his hand, caressing it quickly, but still nothing happens. Feeling frustrated, he started to pound into him, hard and fast, balls slapping against Luke’s skin. Suddenly, he feels Luke clench around him. He hears the word ‘evil’ spoken in a monotone and he can’t stop, he’s thrusting for all he is worth until he comes, hard and fast, deep inside Luke, Luke’s cock in his hand, still only half hard.
He collapses on Luke’s back, panting and shaking slightly, before pulling out of him and stepping off the bed. He stands, his legs shaking, staring at Luke as he turns around and sits on the bed, his legs splayed out. He looks at him, his face flushed slightly. “Was that good?”
“Yes.” Sylar pants. “But you…you didn’t…you weren’t…”
Luke smiles slightly bashfully. “Oh, I never do the first time. I don’t know why; it’s just something with me. Also the setting-I mean, this place is pretty crummy isn’t it? Difficult for me to come in a place like this, when the smell of piss from the toilet is almost overbearing.”
Sylar stared at him. The report on him had finished now, and they had moved on to the weather. He stood there, eyes narrowing at Luke while he smirked at him. “You’ve done this before?”
“Oh yeah. Yeah,” he says rather nonchalantly. “Once I was in this really classy hotel-clean sheets, three course meal…everything. It was…amazing. I came…quite a few times, actually.” He sucks in a breath and closes his eyes as he remembers. “Good times.”
Sylar doesn’t know whether to be angry or ashamed. He thought he was taking Luke for the first time…he thought he was claiming him as his own, that when he came, it would be through him and him alone. Not this.
His thoughts are a blur-he can’t seem to think straight, or work out whether he should be apoplectic or embarrassed. He watches as Luke reaches a pale hand down to his crotch, and begins to fondle himself. He stares at his cock, which hardens almost instantly at his light caresses. Luke grips himself more firmly, and begins to move.
“You don’t mind if I finish myself off, do you?” He says, working up a steady rhythm. “Only, we have a long drive in the morning and I can’t sleep like this.”
Sylar nods his head, completely incredulous.
“We can do this again in the morning, if you want?” He smiles, and Sylar nods again. The movement is almost involuntary. “Oh yeah,” Luke moans as he starts to speed up, his hard cock almost a blur between his fingers, “Oh yeah…we can do it properly. Then you can…oh…you can teach me how to torture…shit…like you did with agent Simmons. ”
Sylar sinks down, and closes his eyes. He’s blocked out the TV now, and his face is burning hot. His head is filled with Luke’s moans and cries as he brings himself to orgasm, someone else’s name on his lips as he comes. It’s too much to bear, so Sylar walks out of the room and stands outside, talking in large gulps of warm night air. It shouldn’t be like this. He should have given Luke the best sex of his life. Luke should be worshipping him like a God, willing to do anything for him. Instead, his only thoughts are what’s going to happen tomorrow, where they are going and what Sylar can teach on along the way.
As he looks back, he can see Luke through the window, cleaning himself up and smiling, one hand on the remote, flicking through the channels. Sylar shivers.