Luke versus The Petrellis
Title: Luke versus The Petrellis
Author: jaune_chat
Fandom: Heroes
Characters/Pairings: Sylar/Luke, Luke/Angela, Luke/Claire, Luke/Nathan/Peter
Rating: NC-17 for sex
Wordcount: 1,715
Spoilers: None really.
Warnings/Enticements: Complete crack, BDSM, implied incest, prostitution
Disclaimer: Heroes belongs to Tim Kring, NBC et al.
A/N: This was written for brighteyed_jill, who’s having a bad week. For her prompt: Sylar handed Luke a piece of paper. “Don’t come back until you’ve fucked everyone on this list. It shouldn’t be too hard; they’re all Petrellis.” Written at speed and unbetaed.
Summary: Luke’s on a mission from Sylar, and he won’t let anyone stand in his way!
Sylar handed Luke a piece of paper covered with Sylar’s heavy, blocky handwriting.
“Don’t come back until you’ve fucked everyone on this list. It shouldn’t be too hard; they’re all Petrellis.”
Luke gaped at Sylar, having gone right past shock and somewhere into “bwah?” territory in one fell swoop. Sylar didn’t like other people touching his things, as a general rule, and Luke was definitely one of his things.
One of his things, that was the trick. He’d heard Sylar mention a Peter Petrelli once or twice in a vaguely nostalgic tone, but he hadn’t realized there were - Luke checked the list again - four in the family. And one of them must have been married or something already, her last name was Bennet.
“Uh… why?” Luke ventured tentatively.
Sylar scowled at him fiercely. “Luke, you’re fucking insatiable. You have enough sexual energy to power a Third World country for a month. So I’m going to harness that for a good purpose so I don’t accidentally kill you when you’re beating yourself off for the third fucking time in a night. I really don’t have time to complete my Petrelli sexual collection, so you’re going to do it for me. I want a full report on every person.”
“Oh. Um… ok,” Luke said, weirded right the fuck out. His boyfriend was into some weird shit. But you did what you had to do… “So, can I get some money to get to New York, or am I supposed to hook my way there?”
The thick wad of thrown bills hit Luke right in the face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Four days later…
Luke had managed to get to New York with no real problems, which had given him plenty of time to try to track down everyone on his list. Lacking any amount of knowledge on who the hell the Petrellis were, he had to go and do research. That sucked, but what else could he do?
Actually, the research didn’t take as long as he thought. He’d figured out who Nathan Petrelli was his first day by the simple expedient of passing by one of his election posters. Looking through the back issues of some newspapers that Luke had dug out of the trash told him Nathan’s younger brother was Peter, and his mother (his mother, ew) was Angela. A tabloid let him know Claire Bennet was Nathan’s illegitimate daughter.
After figuring out the names (and address of the Petrelli mansion), Luke shelled out some of his precious cash to bribe the living snot out of one of their drivers. Rich families like that did all sorts of kinky shit, didn’t they? All he had to do was find out where they did it.
“Lady Alice’s House of Joy,” the bored driver had said, pocketing the cash. “Angela on Monday, Claire on Tuesday, Peter and Nathan on Wednesday.”
Oh, this family was almost as screwed-up than Luke’s.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bribing Lady Alice into letting him into the Petrellis’ sessions hadn’t been too hard. She’d been kind of relieved actually; apparently the Petrellis were hard on her merchandise. She’d just had a few questions: “Can you handle bondage and S and M? Can you take orders? And can you sub?”
Luke revised his opinion. This family was at least as screwed up as his.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Monday
Luke hadn’t thought it was possible for someone older than his own mother to look hot when dressed up in black leather. But Angela Petrelli pulled it off with style to spare, lips stained crimson, hair pulled back tight, body strapped into a black corset-thing and thigh-high boots, tapping a light whip against her opposite gloved hand.
Looking out of the slits of the mask he’d been asked to wear, slowly rubbing his wrists so his hands wouldn’t go numb in the manacles and drop the handkerchief by accident, Luke only felt a little embarrassed for starting to get hard at the sight of her. Hey, he was only the proxy here, so he could blame this all on Sylar, technically.
“Naughty boy, Peter,” Angela said, starting to walk around behind him. “You deserve some severe punishment for all the trouble you cause in this family.”
Luke was suddenly glad the ball gag kept him from laughing. This family was actually more screwed up than his, and that was going some.
One hour, a shower and a beating-off later, Luke was busily recording everything into the notebook for Sylar.
Angela Petrelli - Good hand with a whip. Seriously. Didn’t even break the skin…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tuesday
A cheerleader outfit. Of course. What else would one of Luke’s walking wet dreams be wearing? Cute, blonde, perky tits, and a short little skirt, what the fuck was she doing at a place like this? A girl like that should have guys lined up around the block waiting to pay for the privilege of kissing her feet, not having to come here for a rentboy.
Well, not unless she was like her grandmother…
“You’re new,” Claire said tentatively, looking him up and down. “You’re not my usual.”
“He needed a break,” Luke said with what he hoped was a winning smile. He might have felt a little guilty over getting a hard-on for Angela, but didn’t have any qualms about Claire.
Claire sighed heavily. “I’m pretty, aren’t I?” she asked desperately.
“Uh… yeah!” Luke said, trying to figure out what she was getting at.
“You’d have sex with me, wouldn’t you?”
“Definitely!”
“No matter what, right?”
“Anything you want,” Luke said amicably.
“Even if we were related, right?”
Luke suddenly wished he were gagged again. He didn’t think he could pull this gig off with a straight face. He just nodded silently.
“I’m gonna call you Peter, ok?” Claire said breathily, and suddenly straddled him, pushing him back on the bed. “You love me Peter, don’t you?”
At some point in between fucking Claire practically straight through the mattress and taking a shower to wash the fluids off some hour and a half later, Luke had enough presence of mind to wonder why everyone in the Petrelli family seemed obsessed with Peter.
In his journal, Luke wrote:
Claire: I’ve heard of girls having a daddy kink before, but an uncle kink?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wednesday
Luke actually didn’t mind being a fuck-proxy. It guaranteed lots of sex with fairly enthusiastic partners, and he was picking up loads of interesting tips for when he saw Sylar again. But by the time the Petrelli brothers had gotten to Luke’s playroom, Luke realized he wasn’t just a fuck-proxy, he was going to be a fuck-proxy-proxy. Both Nathan and Peter were prettier than Claire, in their own ways. Peter in particular. It was easy to see why Angela and Claire had wanted him so badly. And now it was blindingly obvious that Nathan wanted him too.
But, like any hypocritical politician, he wouldn’t do it directly. Nathan couldn’t fuck his brother, that just wasn’t Done. But hey, fucking a prostitute at the same time as his brother, no problem!
And apparently Peter didn’t have the slightest problem with that either. Both of them were fucking each other with their eyes the second Luke shut the door behind them. They didn’t even talk, just started stripping separately in some private little ritual, leaving Luke, naked as requested, standing by the doorway, kind of feeling like a fifth wheel.
Luke might have felt some resentment at being ignored, if the prospect of checking the last two names off his list in one day hadn’t been so tempting. Besides, stringing this out for another day or so wouldn’t be possible; being Sylar’s bitch-boy was exhausting work!
Though… Luke’s wandering attention refocused as Nathan and Peter finished their little mating dance. Yup, they were even prettier naked. Nathan suddenly pulled Luke in between him and his brother, almost like a shield.
“Touch him,” he commanded, and put his hands on the back of Luke’s, using them to touch Peter’s face, glide down his neck, and across his chest, never once letting his own skin graze Peter’s. Luke had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from breaking into a goofy grin at Peter’s blissed-out expression at the feel of “Nathan’s” hands on his body.
Oh yes, this family exceeded the screwed-up factor of his by several orders of magnitude.
Luke let himself be used like Sylar wanted, being pulled from Nathan to Peter, each desperate to use him to please his brother. He lolled in the strength of Nathan’s grip as Nathan’s calloused hand stroked him to hardness in front of Peter, he fisted his hands in Peter’s hair as Peter sucked him down to the root, eyes fixed on Nathan. Luke arched his back and sighed in pleasure as Peter ate him out, cried out Nathan’s name when Nathan pushed into him, muffled himself around Peter’s cock when he fed it down Luke’s throat, and groaned in mindless bliss when they let go into him, Nathan stroking him through his orgasm, calling him by Peter’s name.
One barely-conscious sketchy shower later, Luke wrote in his journal:
Nathan and Peter: Best. Sex. Ever.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Friday
Sylar thumbed through Luke’s journal entries, his brows furrowed so hard they practically formed a straight line across his forehead. It gave him an endearing Neanderthal look, but Luke knew it was also a potential danger sign.
Luke hoped it wasn’t because of the journal. He’d been very detailed and thorough, even to the point of getting pictures and video. (Wireless cameras were cheap, what could he say? He was a child of the digital age.) Surely Sylar couldn’t find any fault in Luke’s work.
“So?” Luke asked tentatively.
“’Best sex ever?’” Sylar quoted, his tone a little dangerous.
Hmm, maybe Luke had gotten a little too detailed.
“It was my honest reaction at the time!”
“I’m certain,” Sylar said tightly. “Peter has that effect on people.”
“He has that effect on his whole family,” Luke muttered.
Sylar smirked, and tossed the journal aside.
“So, you’re an expert on Petrelli-sex now, right?”
Luke rolled his eyes. “Uh, yeah.”
“Good.” Sylar took a step back and smiled slightly. “Prove it.”
Luke reached back into the closet to grab the whip, smirking the entire time. Oh, this was gonna be fun.
Author: jaune_chat
Fandom: Heroes
Characters/Pairings: Sylar/Luke, Luke/Angela, Luke/Claire, Luke/Nathan/Peter
Rating: NC-17 for sex
Wordcount: 1,715
Spoilers: None really.
Warnings/Enticements: Complete crack, BDSM, implied incest, prostitution
Disclaimer: Heroes belongs to Tim Kring, NBC et al.
A/N: This was written for brighteyed_jill, who’s having a bad week. For her prompt: Sylar handed Luke a piece of paper. “Don’t come back until you’ve fucked everyone on this list. It shouldn’t be too hard; they’re all Petrellis.” Written at speed and unbetaed.
Summary: Luke’s on a mission from Sylar, and he won’t let anyone stand in his way!
Sylar handed Luke a piece of paper covered with Sylar’s heavy, blocky handwriting.
“Don’t come back until you’ve fucked everyone on this list. It shouldn’t be too hard; they’re all Petrellis.”
Luke gaped at Sylar, having gone right past shock and somewhere into “bwah?” territory in one fell swoop. Sylar didn’t like other people touching his things, as a general rule, and Luke was definitely one of his things.
One of his things, that was the trick. He’d heard Sylar mention a Peter Petrelli once or twice in a vaguely nostalgic tone, but he hadn’t realized there were - Luke checked the list again - four in the family. And one of them must have been married or something already, her last name was Bennet.
“Uh… why?” Luke ventured tentatively.
Sylar scowled at him fiercely. “Luke, you’re fucking insatiable. You have enough sexual energy to power a Third World country for a month. So I’m going to harness that for a good purpose so I don’t accidentally kill you when you’re beating yourself off for the third fucking time in a night. I really don’t have time to complete my Petrelli sexual collection, so you’re going to do it for me. I want a full report on every person.”
“Oh. Um… ok,” Luke said, weirded right the fuck out. His boyfriend was into some weird shit. But you did what you had to do… “So, can I get some money to get to New York, or am I supposed to hook my way there?”
The thick wad of thrown bills hit Luke right in the face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Four days later…
Luke had managed to get to New York with no real problems, which had given him plenty of time to try to track down everyone on his list. Lacking any amount of knowledge on who the hell the Petrellis were, he had to go and do research. That sucked, but what else could he do?
Actually, the research didn’t take as long as he thought. He’d figured out who Nathan Petrelli was his first day by the simple expedient of passing by one of his election posters. Looking through the back issues of some newspapers that Luke had dug out of the trash told him Nathan’s younger brother was Peter, and his mother (his mother, ew) was Angela. A tabloid let him know Claire Bennet was Nathan’s illegitimate daughter.
After figuring out the names (and address of the Petrelli mansion), Luke shelled out some of his precious cash to bribe the living snot out of one of their drivers. Rich families like that did all sorts of kinky shit, didn’t they? All he had to do was find out where they did it.
“Lady Alice’s House of Joy,” the bored driver had said, pocketing the cash. “Angela on Monday, Claire on Tuesday, Peter and Nathan on Wednesday.”
Oh, this family was almost as screwed-up than Luke’s.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bribing Lady Alice into letting him into the Petrellis’ sessions hadn’t been too hard. She’d been kind of relieved actually; apparently the Petrellis were hard on her merchandise. She’d just had a few questions: “Can you handle bondage and S and M? Can you take orders? And can you sub?”
Luke revised his opinion. This family was at least as screwed up as his.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Monday
Luke hadn’t thought it was possible for someone older than his own mother to look hot when dressed up in black leather. But Angela Petrelli pulled it off with style to spare, lips stained crimson, hair pulled back tight, body strapped into a black corset-thing and thigh-high boots, tapping a light whip against her opposite gloved hand.
Looking out of the slits of the mask he’d been asked to wear, slowly rubbing his wrists so his hands wouldn’t go numb in the manacles and drop the handkerchief by accident, Luke only felt a little embarrassed for starting to get hard at the sight of her. Hey, he was only the proxy here, so he could blame this all on Sylar, technically.
“Naughty boy, Peter,” Angela said, starting to walk around behind him. “You deserve some severe punishment for all the trouble you cause in this family.”
Luke was suddenly glad the ball gag kept him from laughing. This family was actually more screwed up than his, and that was going some.
One hour, a shower and a beating-off later, Luke was busily recording everything into the notebook for Sylar.
Angela Petrelli - Good hand with a whip. Seriously. Didn’t even break the skin…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tuesday
A cheerleader outfit. Of course. What else would one of Luke’s walking wet dreams be wearing? Cute, blonde, perky tits, and a short little skirt, what the fuck was she doing at a place like this? A girl like that should have guys lined up around the block waiting to pay for the privilege of kissing her feet, not having to come here for a rentboy.
Well, not unless she was like her grandmother…
“You’re new,” Claire said tentatively, looking him up and down. “You’re not my usual.”
“He needed a break,” Luke said with what he hoped was a winning smile. He might have felt a little guilty over getting a hard-on for Angela, but didn’t have any qualms about Claire.
Claire sighed heavily. “I’m pretty, aren’t I?” she asked desperately.
“Uh… yeah!” Luke said, trying to figure out what she was getting at.
“You’d have sex with me, wouldn’t you?”
“Definitely!”
“No matter what, right?”
“Anything you want,” Luke said amicably.
“Even if we were related, right?”
Luke suddenly wished he were gagged again. He didn’t think he could pull this gig off with a straight face. He just nodded silently.
“I’m gonna call you Peter, ok?” Claire said breathily, and suddenly straddled him, pushing him back on the bed. “You love me Peter, don’t you?”
At some point in between fucking Claire practically straight through the mattress and taking a shower to wash the fluids off some hour and a half later, Luke had enough presence of mind to wonder why everyone in the Petrelli family seemed obsessed with Peter.
In his journal, Luke wrote:
Claire: I’ve heard of girls having a daddy kink before, but an uncle kink?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wednesday
Luke actually didn’t mind being a fuck-proxy. It guaranteed lots of sex with fairly enthusiastic partners, and he was picking up loads of interesting tips for when he saw Sylar again. But by the time the Petrelli brothers had gotten to Luke’s playroom, Luke realized he wasn’t just a fuck-proxy, he was going to be a fuck-proxy-proxy. Both Nathan and Peter were prettier than Claire, in their own ways. Peter in particular. It was easy to see why Angela and Claire had wanted him so badly. And now it was blindingly obvious that Nathan wanted him too.
But, like any hypocritical politician, he wouldn’t do it directly. Nathan couldn’t fuck his brother, that just wasn’t Done. But hey, fucking a prostitute at the same time as his brother, no problem!
And apparently Peter didn’t have the slightest problem with that either. Both of them were fucking each other with their eyes the second Luke shut the door behind them. They didn’t even talk, just started stripping separately in some private little ritual, leaving Luke, naked as requested, standing by the doorway, kind of feeling like a fifth wheel.
Luke might have felt some resentment at being ignored, if the prospect of checking the last two names off his list in one day hadn’t been so tempting. Besides, stringing this out for another day or so wouldn’t be possible; being Sylar’s bitch-boy was exhausting work!
Though… Luke’s wandering attention refocused as Nathan and Peter finished their little mating dance. Yup, they were even prettier naked. Nathan suddenly pulled Luke in between him and his brother, almost like a shield.
“Touch him,” he commanded, and put his hands on the back of Luke’s, using them to touch Peter’s face, glide down his neck, and across his chest, never once letting his own skin graze Peter’s. Luke had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from breaking into a goofy grin at Peter’s blissed-out expression at the feel of “Nathan’s” hands on his body.
Oh yes, this family exceeded the screwed-up factor of his by several orders of magnitude.
Luke let himself be used like Sylar wanted, being pulled from Nathan to Peter, each desperate to use him to please his brother. He lolled in the strength of Nathan’s grip as Nathan’s calloused hand stroked him to hardness in front of Peter, he fisted his hands in Peter’s hair as Peter sucked him down to the root, eyes fixed on Nathan. Luke arched his back and sighed in pleasure as Peter ate him out, cried out Nathan’s name when Nathan pushed into him, muffled himself around Peter’s cock when he fed it down Luke’s throat, and groaned in mindless bliss when they let go into him, Nathan stroking him through his orgasm, calling him by Peter’s name.
One barely-conscious sketchy shower later, Luke wrote in his journal:
Nathan and Peter: Best. Sex. Ever.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Friday
Sylar thumbed through Luke’s journal entries, his brows furrowed so hard they practically formed a straight line across his forehead. It gave him an endearing Neanderthal look, but Luke knew it was also a potential danger sign.
Luke hoped it wasn’t because of the journal. He’d been very detailed and thorough, even to the point of getting pictures and video. (Wireless cameras were cheap, what could he say? He was a child of the digital age.) Surely Sylar couldn’t find any fault in Luke’s work.
“So?” Luke asked tentatively.
“’Best sex ever?’” Sylar quoted, his tone a little dangerous.
Hmm, maybe Luke had gotten a little too detailed.
“It was my honest reaction at the time!”
“I’m certain,” Sylar said tightly. “Peter has that effect on people.”
“He has that effect on his whole family,” Luke muttered.
Sylar smirked, and tossed the journal aside.
“So, you’re an expert on Petrelli-sex now, right?”
Luke rolled his eyes. “Uh, yeah.”
“Good.” Sylar took a step back and smiled slightly. “Prove it.”
Luke reached back into the closet to grab the whip, smirking the entire time. Oh, this was gonna be fun.