Prisoner

Aug 13, 2011 00:10

Dropping down lightly behind Sylar, Peter grabbed Sylar by the shoulder and spun him around.  “You son of a bitch,” he growled.  Before Sylar could even react, Peter ported them to the room he had set up.

“What the fuck are you doing, Peter?”  Sylar snarled, trying to shove Peter away but Peter didn’t budge and he shoved back.  Sylar hit the wall hard and Peter quickly clamped the handcuffs on each hand.

Stepping back, Peter smirked as Sylar struggled to get free.  “Figured it was your turn to be handcuffed to a wall.  Get comfy, you’re going to be here for awhile.”

Sylar tried to lunge at Peter but he was yanked short.  “Let me go you fucking asshole!”  He snapped.  Peter just laughed which pissed Sylar off even more and he pulled even harder on the chains but they didn’t give.

“You’re here to stay.  I’m going to teach you not to be so much of a bastard, that you can’t do whatever the fuck you want.”  Reaching out, Peter gripped Sylar’s shirt and ripped it open.  Buttons pinged off of the wall and floor and Sylar snarled again.

“You’re going to regret this Peter.”  Sylar snapped.

“So you keep telling me.”  Peter tore Sylar’s shirt the rest of the way off, then dragged his nails down his chest.  When Sylar howled in pain, Peter smiled.  “I could grow to enjoy that sound.”

Licking the blood off his fingers, Peter went over to the table and picked up the knife, showing it to Sylar.  “This is what happens when you misbehave; you need to learn where your place is.”

The knife was razor sharp and when Peter slid it over Sylar’s chest, the pain took a moment before it registered.  Blood trickled down and the pain was evident on Sylar’s face, though he didn’t cry out this time.  Peter ran his finger over one of the cuts, spreading the blood.

“When I get free-“

Peter slapped Sylar across the face.  “Just shut up, no one wants to hear you.”  He picked up a washcloth and shoved it into Sylar’s mouth.  “Much better.

He made a few more cuts and then bent down, lapping at the blood, following the red trail back up to the cuts.  When the moans from Sylar turned from pain to something more, Peter smirked and kept at it, finally latching on to one of the cuts and sucking.

Sylar jerked under the onslaught of Peter’s tongue and the moans grew loader, even with the gag in his mouth.  Peter was growing hard too and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up without taking Sylar completely.  He needed to try though.

Once all the blood was cleaned off, Peter ran the bloody knife over his tongue, grinning at the way Sylar was watching him.  The other man’s eyes were dark and dangerous but Peter wasn’t afraid.  He was the one in charge, not Sylar.

“You’re my little pet now, Sylar, and I’m going to enjoy every minute of this.  How long before you start to beg, start to…”

Peter started laughing, dropping the knife and trying to catch his breath.  His ribs and his face started to hurt from laughing so hard and then Sylar rolled his eyes, pulling the washcloth out with TK.

“God damn it Peter.”  Sylar huffed, pulling his fangs back and unhooking the handcuffs.  “If you can’t at least try to be serious, what’s the point in doing this?  I knew you couldn’t do this with a straight face, it’s not in you.”

Tears running down his face, Peter wiped at them and hiccupped in air.  “I’m sorry, I tried.  I guess I just can’t do that menacing, psycho killer thing like you can.”  He licked a few traces of blood off his hands, catching Sylar’s eyes on his mouth as his tongue lapped up the blood.

“You’re a fucking vampire now; you should be able to pull that off.”  Sylar grumbled, catching Peter’s hand and sucking on one of his fingers to get the last of the blood off.  It was his turn to smirk when Peter’s eyes went dark and his breath hitched.  “It was your idea to tie me up to the wall, pay me back for when I caught you.”

Swallowing, Peter forced himself to talk.  “I thought I could do it.  Guess we’ll just have to try again because I still want to take advantage of you tied up and helpless.”  He shoved Sylar back against the wall, fingers running over the cuts.

“You had your chance and you blew it.  From now on, I’m the only one that gets to chain you to the wall and have my way with you.”  Sylar nuzzled at Peter’s neck, tongue running over the pulse point.

“We’ll see about that.  Don’t think that I’m not going to try and catch you by surprise some night again, do it right next time.”  Peter let out a breath, fingers digging in to Sylar’s skin as he felt Sylar’s fangs graze over his neck.

“Like to see you try.  You couldn’t even if you tried.  But maybe I’ll let you think you got away with it.  Can’t let you lose your confidence after all.”

There was no more talking as Sylar’s fangs sank deep into Peter’s neck and he started to feed.  All that could be heard were moans from two different throats echoing off the walls.

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