Interrogation Session
Title: Interrogation Session
Author: jaune_chat
Fandom: Heroes
Characters/Pairing: Sylar/Mohinder, Noah Bennet, Angela Petrelli
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,680
Spoilers: Vague S3, V4
Warnings: Slash, dubcon, manipulation
Disclaimer: Heroes is owned by Tim Kring, NBC, et al.
Notes: This is a sequel to Insatiable and won't make much sense if you haven't read that story.
Summary: Noah Bennet uses Sylar's new power and need to interrogate Mohinder.
“The sensory deprivation tank is a little extreme, don’t you think, Noah?” Angela looked sideways at her employee, unsurprised to see him stubbornly setting his jaw. “Sylar’s already drugged, after all.”
“The way he is right now, if he wasn’t drugged and tanked, he’d fight his way past the chemicals, and then we’d have a mess on our hand,” Noah said flatly. Both of them were regarding a monitor showing the heavily reinforced cell on the other side of the wall. Furnished with only a small table with scarce medical supplies and looming bulk of the tank, it offered no succor to the man who was being dragged into the room.
The two agents lowered the unconscious form of Mohinder Suresh to the ground, removing the drug harness and backing out of the room with haste. In another ten seconds, the heavy door had been locked again, and Suresh slowly started to stir.
“Sylar seemed amenable enough with your company,” Angela commented.
Noah’s back stiffened in anger, but his voice remained calm. “Because I was feeding the addict what he wanted. He’s more dangerous now than ever. He became a killer on his own. We encouraged him to become a serial-killer power-addict. Now, with this new ability, he’s a monster.”
Angela didn’t miss a beat. “You’re more than capable of defending yourself.”
“Other people won’t be. He doesn’t just want abilities anymore. He wants everything, and he’s powerful enough that no one can stop him from taking it,” Noah said.
“You’re hardly a teenager, Noah. You had other ways of disabling Sylar than the method you chose.”
Noah felt a faint rush of heat over his body, quickly suppressed. He was almost fifty years old, and no longer had the excuse of letting his dick determine his fate. He also didn’t have the luxury of prevaricating; the whole incident had been recorded with pitiless clarity by the cameras in the Company van.
He didn’t want to discuss it with Angela. After he’d throttled Sylar into unconsciousness with his bare hands, he’d had to go right back in and clean up the mess he’d left behind. After discovering the body of the girl and reviewing the security tapes at the club, it was clear her ability let her be extremely persuasive even to strangers. Noah didn’t want to talk about the fact that Sylar had used that ability to get a rise out of him, in the most base and visceral sense. He’d known precisely what to say and how to touch Noah to push him past training and control to a state where he’d willingly touched the man that had caused his family so much grief.
Hearing his entire life being whispered in his ear by Sylar had made Noah want to force him into silence in any way possible.
“Consider it a successful experiment,” Noah suggested. “If Sylar could affect me, then he should have no problem with Suresh.”
“Certainly,” Angela said, nodding slightly. Whether she accepted his explanation or not, Noah was done talking about it.
On the monitor, Suresh slowly stumbled to his feet, looking around the room with a tense and wary gaze. An hour before, Noah had asked Suresh for his help with an “intractable special,” someone he’d described, quiet honestly, as having great difficulty controlling his power. He’d asked Suresh for his help, to lend his expertise towards the problem. Hatred at being captured by the Company had been subsumed by Suresh’s sudden hope that he would be able to help someone. Or specifically, that he’d be put in contact with someone who’d help them both escape. Noah had pretended to not see the plan behind Suresh’s eyes as he’d willingly let himself be drugged to be taken to the “test subject.”
Now, settling his eyes on the tank, Suresh stepped over to it, hesitating before putting his hand on the lid. Natural curiosity and new hope was warring with the knowledge that this was almost certainly a Company trap of some kind. After a long moment of hesitation, Suresh pushed the lid open.
Floating inside with a tube of sedatives running up his nose, was Sylar. Noah was vaguely impressed when Suresh only flinched instead of jumping back. Having his ability had apparently given him the confidence to stand toe-to-toe with his father’s killer. But Suresh also knew that with Sylar, there was a good chance the two of them could get out of this room, away from government agents, and disappear. Sylar might have been a killer, but he hated being a prisoner. Suresh might very well decide the risk was worth being able to get free, so he could return to the other rebels.
“Take the bait, doctor,” Noah murmured, unheard.
On the screen, Suresh hesitated, hand hovering above the nasal tube, clearly afraid to go farther. After an agonizingly long moment, he finally pulled the tube free.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sylar blinked, sudden light hurting his eyes, the faint brush of skin against his enough to wake him. He had felt numb, disconnected, achingly alone, until that light touch. It energized him, sparked through his body like lightning, and he reached out blindly, gripping Mohinder’s arm. The details, knowledge, uncertainty, fear, ragged hope, all slammed into him, spreading across his skin, and Sylar arched, his body tensing and spending itself in a sudden, shocking burst of pleasure.
“Sylar? Are you all right?” Mohinder asked, reaching into the water to pull him upright. Through the flood of new information and beauty of sensation, the knowledge of the lie Mohinder had been fed that had led him here, that he was willing to work even with Sylar to get back to the rebels, Sylar felt a deep satisfaction. Noah Bennet had kept his promise; that he’d supply Sylar with what he needed. It must have been the first time in the history of the world that had happened.
Sylar kept his grip up on Mohinder’s arm, not willing to sacrifice the tiniest amount of contact after the hellishly long time in sensory-deprivation hell. Every slide of his water-sensitive skin against Mohinder’s was keeping his body primed, beginning the waves of heat anew. It felt like his entire body was coming alive, opening up, reaching out with invisible fingers to latch onto a new source of touch.
“No,” Sylar whispered, slinging his other arm around Mohinder like he was too weak to rise, body lighting up at the contact, a groan slipping out before he could stop it. “Not ok.” He let his head drop forward, breathing out hard as his lips brushed Mohinder’s shoulder. It was a lie, a blatant one, but Mohinder wouldn’t understand it.
Sylar felt like his skin was burning, gloriously, absorbing more knowledge and detail with every passing second. His heart was starting to pound and blood rushed furiously through his veins. Everything was becoming aroused, from his mind, to his senses, to his cock, and the craving for more was becoming more insistent every passing moment.
Mohinder lifted Sylar out of the tank like he weighed nothing, and Sylar smiled slightly in amusement. Partially for that delicious strength, partially for the blush that touched Mohinder’s cheeks when he realized Sylar didn’t have a stitch on. Sylar lifted his head just a fraction, feeling the heat of that blush against his own cheek, letting Mohinder’s body speak to him. Mohinder’s almost reflexive hate of his father’s killer was mixed with confusing flashes of pity and arousal, mixed with a new compassion that frightened him.
Flexing his hands against Mohinder’s flesh, Sylar drank it all in, knowing Mohinder’s failed attempts at creating the super-power formula had eroded that self-righteous, shiny pure scientist, filling him with doubt that he was no better than the worse man he knew. Sylar.
“Sylar, listen to me, I can help you, I promise, but we need to get out of here,” Mohinder whispered, trying to remain resolute in the midst of his own confusion.
“Not now,” Sylar soothed, letting himself fall against Mohinder’s body, straining for contact with every fiber of his being. “Soon.”
“They’ll be watching. I was supposed to be helping you with your powers… Is something wrong with you?” Mohinder asked, blushing again as he tried, and failed, to get Sylar to stand on his own.
“Not now,” he repeated, and Sylar canted his hips up, making Mohinder notice what he’d stringently been avoiding. What Mohinder clearly hadn’t wanted to. The anger at Sylar was strong, but almost routine. The compassion for a person caught by the company, and the confusion Mohinder had that someone might actually desire him after what he’d done, were slowing his reactions.
“Don’t,” Mohinder said forcefully. He tried to push them apart, but Sylar clamped down with telekinetic fingers, his real hands slowly sliding along Mohinder’s arms, arming himself with more knowledge every second.
“They caught me. I found my father, and after, they caught me,” Sylar whispered, every piece of Mohinder’s life now within him giving him the words to draw them together, to give him more. “He didn’t want me. Was disappointed in me. Now I know what it’s like, twice over, to be your family’s failure.”
It struck Mohinder to the heart, freezing him in place, and Sylar firmed his grip, waves of heat and pleasure rising as he rubbed his face along Mohinder’s jaw.
“You’ve always been searching for his approval. Followed in his footsteps, learned everything he did, and Chandra was always out of reach, wasn’t he?” Sylar whispered, feeling the shame and frustration of a life led for another’s purpose thrumming through Mohinder’s chest. “Couldn’t be good enough, not after Shanti-.”
“Don’t talk about-,” Mohinder cut off his angry shout as a cold wave of fear flooded his body. Sylar drank in the sensation, hands restlessly following the goosebumps as they erupted all over Mohinder’s body, learning every place where fear and pleasure were mingling together. “How did you know about my sister?” Mohinder asked instead, confused.
“I know everything about you,” Sylar murmured, mouth sliding along Mohinder’s neck, sucking at a pulse point he knew would bring Mohinder to his knees.
“No…” The word trailed into a languid moan as Mohinder relaxed against him briefly, clutching at Sylar to keep himself up, fingers driving information deep into Sylar’s body. The feeling was intensely sexual, as deep to him as a penetration of the flesh, and Sylar lost it, letting them both collapse to the floor. Frantically he drew his mouth up Mohinder’s neck, letting his tongue curl around his ear, feeling the relaxation in Mohinder’s body as Sylar ruthlessly bore down on his weak spot.
“Wanted to be the best you could, volunteered for a suicide mission because that’s what you thought you deserved. Hiro and Matt let you go because you’d just fuck up any other mission; your head wasn’t in the game.”
With Mohinder frozen in fear, confusion, and arousal, Sylar unraveled the man’s clothes, growling as his skin made full contact with Mohinder’s lean body. Secrets whispered in Mohinder’s ear became clear to him as the sound of his own voice, as potent an aphrodisiac as anything he’d ever felt, and Sylar slid his aching erection between their bodies, the way eased by water and sweat. Every twitch and thrust was punctuated by more words, an endless recitation of everything Mohinder was, bubbling up out of him like steam from a relief valve as the heat between them climbed.
“Want to go back to base, Mohinder? Go where it’s safe, where they value you. Not for your mind anymore, so sad. For what this ‘magnificent body’ can do, isn’t that right? They need your strength to help people, to break the faces of those fucking hunters that come for you. Not so special to be special, not what you wanted. You wanted all the glory, all that approval, someone to tell you that you did something right for once-.”
Mohinder tried to pull away, tried to put his hands up and shove them apart, but Sylar ruthlessly clamped them together with his mind, a snarl boiling up from deep inside of him.
“Don’t you fucking dare let go of me,” he growled with lethal menace, hips never missing a beat, hands never ceasing their exploration of Mohinder’s skin. The heat surging through Sylar’s body was getting more and more intense, until he almost felt like he was glowing, and Mohinder was staring at him, stunned. His passivity only spurred Sylar on, and he bore down harder, practically feeling bones creak, his cock twitching and smearing pre-come between them as he raced for more contact.
“Sylar, I-.”
Sylar grinned darkly as he felt an answering hardness alongside his own, his dominant display over Mohinder’s strength triggering a response the man didn’t even know he had. Ruthlessly Sylar bit down on Mohinder’s neck and slid his tongue up to his ear again, and felt Mohinder start to collapse.
More…
“Saw them wave you goodbye on for this little trip. Pine needles and sea air. Thought you were so clever, just going to the other coast…”
Sylar could feel Mohinder’s fear as a tangible thing as the endless flow of words described the Oregon safehouse, and the other specials that were there, taking a stand against the government.
It didn’t escape him that Mohinder’s arousal didn’t flag in the least. Hate and fear were reverberating through his blood, sickness and arousal and confusion, all washed over by a sudden, overwhelming feeling of helplessness and surrender. Feeling that inadvertent welcome through every cell of his skin and every pore of his body made Sylar feel practically godlike.
“You wanted to take punishment for the people you hurt in your search for your precious formula. You want penance, want to show you’re sacrificing something. Noble hypocrite,” Sylar murmured almost lovingly. “Lay down and take it like a man.” It was calculated to insult, to provoke, to force Mohinder to want to touch him, dig his hands in, struggle, to press his skin against Sylar’s and try to break free.
The glowing heat within him crested when the goad of Sylar’s words prodded Mohinder into action, anger flaring, adding another layer of intricacies to the emotions swirling through his skin. Mohinder’s hands tightened on Sylar’s flesh, his voice screaming a frantic denial as he tried to batter Sylar’s relentless voice into submission. Sylar’s mind tangled Mohinder’s hands away from the killing blow, hips churning, cocks sliding together amid their dance of violence. Sylar drew them closer into contact with every second, poisonous words devolving into moans of pleasure when they were finally nothing but a seething mass of limbs racing for completion.
Rage and hate and pleasure slammed into Sylar’s body from Mohinder’s, rising and multiplying with every moment as Mohinder inadvertently fed Sylar all the knowledge he could handle and more. He wasn’t sure who screamed first, only knew that the explosion of heat between them was enough to overload his mind and body together, sending him spinning down into blackness, a blissful moment of satiation holding him still as he left the waking world for a dream of spice-scented sunlight.
~~~~~~~~~~
“That was highly impressive, Noah. Everything you promised,” Angela said idly.
Noah Bennet nodded, calling a west coast team to raid the rebel safehouse Mohinder Suresh had originated from. They probably wouldn’t get all the rebels, but they’d be able to deprive them of their resources, and every person they captured was one more Sylar could… interrogate.
“As you said, the man has an insatiable appetite for knowledge,” Noah allowed. “You’re sure you want to use him on Peter next?”
“My son is stubborn. I think Sylar is the only one who will be able to convince him to talk,” Angela said, her mouth a single grim line. “Besides, I don’t think Sylar will hurt him.”
“I’ll set it up,” Noah promised. He watched the screen as gloved workers removed the semi-conscious Mohinder and returned Sylar to his tank.
Some part of him had been impressed by the strength of Sylar’s need for contact, and his extremely accurate reading of everything Mohinder Suresh was. And some other, hidden part of him had felt a very small flick of something like jealousy. Murderous power-addict or not, Sylar had, for a short time, been completely in sync with everything Noah Bennet had ever wanted in a partner. Noah shook his head, dismissing the fantasy as the mind’s mischief for being alone for too long. Watching Sylar’s intensity with Mohinder would have stirred the blood of a corpse, let alone someone who didn’t have to guess what it felt like to be on the receiving end of such ardent attention.
Besides, by tomorrow Sylar should be more than ready for another interrogation session.
Author: jaune_chat
Fandom: Heroes
Characters/Pairing: Sylar/Mohinder, Noah Bennet, Angela Petrelli
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,680
Spoilers: Vague S3, V4
Warnings: Slash, dubcon, manipulation
Disclaimer: Heroes is owned by Tim Kring, NBC, et al.
Notes: This is a sequel to Insatiable and won't make much sense if you haven't read that story.
Summary: Noah Bennet uses Sylar's new power and need to interrogate Mohinder.
“The sensory deprivation tank is a little extreme, don’t you think, Noah?” Angela looked sideways at her employee, unsurprised to see him stubbornly setting his jaw. “Sylar’s already drugged, after all.”
“The way he is right now, if he wasn’t drugged and tanked, he’d fight his way past the chemicals, and then we’d have a mess on our hand,” Noah said flatly. Both of them were regarding a monitor showing the heavily reinforced cell on the other side of the wall. Furnished with only a small table with scarce medical supplies and looming bulk of the tank, it offered no succor to the man who was being dragged into the room.
The two agents lowered the unconscious form of Mohinder Suresh to the ground, removing the drug harness and backing out of the room with haste. In another ten seconds, the heavy door had been locked again, and Suresh slowly started to stir.
“Sylar seemed amenable enough with your company,” Angela commented.
Noah’s back stiffened in anger, but his voice remained calm. “Because I was feeding the addict what he wanted. He’s more dangerous now than ever. He became a killer on his own. We encouraged him to become a serial-killer power-addict. Now, with this new ability, he’s a monster.”
Angela didn’t miss a beat. “You’re more than capable of defending yourself.”
“Other people won’t be. He doesn’t just want abilities anymore. He wants everything, and he’s powerful enough that no one can stop him from taking it,” Noah said.
“You’re hardly a teenager, Noah. You had other ways of disabling Sylar than the method you chose.”
Noah felt a faint rush of heat over his body, quickly suppressed. He was almost fifty years old, and no longer had the excuse of letting his dick determine his fate. He also didn’t have the luxury of prevaricating; the whole incident had been recorded with pitiless clarity by the cameras in the Company van.
He didn’t want to discuss it with Angela. After he’d throttled Sylar into unconsciousness with his bare hands, he’d had to go right back in and clean up the mess he’d left behind. After discovering the body of the girl and reviewing the security tapes at the club, it was clear her ability let her be extremely persuasive even to strangers. Noah didn’t want to talk about the fact that Sylar had used that ability to get a rise out of him, in the most base and visceral sense. He’d known precisely what to say and how to touch Noah to push him past training and control to a state where he’d willingly touched the man that had caused his family so much grief.
Hearing his entire life being whispered in his ear by Sylar had made Noah want to force him into silence in any way possible.
“Consider it a successful experiment,” Noah suggested. “If Sylar could affect me, then he should have no problem with Suresh.”
“Certainly,” Angela said, nodding slightly. Whether she accepted his explanation or not, Noah was done talking about it.
On the monitor, Suresh slowly stumbled to his feet, looking around the room with a tense and wary gaze. An hour before, Noah had asked Suresh for his help with an “intractable special,” someone he’d described, quiet honestly, as having great difficulty controlling his power. He’d asked Suresh for his help, to lend his expertise towards the problem. Hatred at being captured by the Company had been subsumed by Suresh’s sudden hope that he would be able to help someone. Or specifically, that he’d be put in contact with someone who’d help them both escape. Noah had pretended to not see the plan behind Suresh’s eyes as he’d willingly let himself be drugged to be taken to the “test subject.”
Now, settling his eyes on the tank, Suresh stepped over to it, hesitating before putting his hand on the lid. Natural curiosity and new hope was warring with the knowledge that this was almost certainly a Company trap of some kind. After a long moment of hesitation, Suresh pushed the lid open.
Floating inside with a tube of sedatives running up his nose, was Sylar. Noah was vaguely impressed when Suresh only flinched instead of jumping back. Having his ability had apparently given him the confidence to stand toe-to-toe with his father’s killer. But Suresh also knew that with Sylar, there was a good chance the two of them could get out of this room, away from government agents, and disappear. Sylar might have been a killer, but he hated being a prisoner. Suresh might very well decide the risk was worth being able to get free, so he could return to the other rebels.
“Take the bait, doctor,” Noah murmured, unheard.
On the screen, Suresh hesitated, hand hovering above the nasal tube, clearly afraid to go farther. After an agonizingly long moment, he finally pulled the tube free.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sylar blinked, sudden light hurting his eyes, the faint brush of skin against his enough to wake him. He had felt numb, disconnected, achingly alone, until that light touch. It energized him, sparked through his body like lightning, and he reached out blindly, gripping Mohinder’s arm. The details, knowledge, uncertainty, fear, ragged hope, all slammed into him, spreading across his skin, and Sylar arched, his body tensing and spending itself in a sudden, shocking burst of pleasure.
“Sylar? Are you all right?” Mohinder asked, reaching into the water to pull him upright. Through the flood of new information and beauty of sensation, the knowledge of the lie Mohinder had been fed that had led him here, that he was willing to work even with Sylar to get back to the rebels, Sylar felt a deep satisfaction. Noah Bennet had kept his promise; that he’d supply Sylar with what he needed. It must have been the first time in the history of the world that had happened.
Sylar kept his grip up on Mohinder’s arm, not willing to sacrifice the tiniest amount of contact after the hellishly long time in sensory-deprivation hell. Every slide of his water-sensitive skin against Mohinder’s was keeping his body primed, beginning the waves of heat anew. It felt like his entire body was coming alive, opening up, reaching out with invisible fingers to latch onto a new source of touch.
“No,” Sylar whispered, slinging his other arm around Mohinder like he was too weak to rise, body lighting up at the contact, a groan slipping out before he could stop it. “Not ok.” He let his head drop forward, breathing out hard as his lips brushed Mohinder’s shoulder. It was a lie, a blatant one, but Mohinder wouldn’t understand it.
Sylar felt like his skin was burning, gloriously, absorbing more knowledge and detail with every passing second. His heart was starting to pound and blood rushed furiously through his veins. Everything was becoming aroused, from his mind, to his senses, to his cock, and the craving for more was becoming more insistent every passing moment.
Mohinder lifted Sylar out of the tank like he weighed nothing, and Sylar smiled slightly in amusement. Partially for that delicious strength, partially for the blush that touched Mohinder’s cheeks when he realized Sylar didn’t have a stitch on. Sylar lifted his head just a fraction, feeling the heat of that blush against his own cheek, letting Mohinder’s body speak to him. Mohinder’s almost reflexive hate of his father’s killer was mixed with confusing flashes of pity and arousal, mixed with a new compassion that frightened him.
Flexing his hands against Mohinder’s flesh, Sylar drank it all in, knowing Mohinder’s failed attempts at creating the super-power formula had eroded that self-righteous, shiny pure scientist, filling him with doubt that he was no better than the worse man he knew. Sylar.
“Sylar, listen to me, I can help you, I promise, but we need to get out of here,” Mohinder whispered, trying to remain resolute in the midst of his own confusion.
“Not now,” Sylar soothed, letting himself fall against Mohinder’s body, straining for contact with every fiber of his being. “Soon.”
“They’ll be watching. I was supposed to be helping you with your powers… Is something wrong with you?” Mohinder asked, blushing again as he tried, and failed, to get Sylar to stand on his own.
“Not now,” he repeated, and Sylar canted his hips up, making Mohinder notice what he’d stringently been avoiding. What Mohinder clearly hadn’t wanted to. The anger at Sylar was strong, but almost routine. The compassion for a person caught by the company, and the confusion Mohinder had that someone might actually desire him after what he’d done, were slowing his reactions.
“Don’t,” Mohinder said forcefully. He tried to push them apart, but Sylar clamped down with telekinetic fingers, his real hands slowly sliding along Mohinder’s arms, arming himself with more knowledge every second.
“They caught me. I found my father, and after, they caught me,” Sylar whispered, every piece of Mohinder’s life now within him giving him the words to draw them together, to give him more. “He didn’t want me. Was disappointed in me. Now I know what it’s like, twice over, to be your family’s failure.”
It struck Mohinder to the heart, freezing him in place, and Sylar firmed his grip, waves of heat and pleasure rising as he rubbed his face along Mohinder’s jaw.
“You’ve always been searching for his approval. Followed in his footsteps, learned everything he did, and Chandra was always out of reach, wasn’t he?” Sylar whispered, feeling the shame and frustration of a life led for another’s purpose thrumming through Mohinder’s chest. “Couldn’t be good enough, not after Shanti-.”
“Don’t talk about-,” Mohinder cut off his angry shout as a cold wave of fear flooded his body. Sylar drank in the sensation, hands restlessly following the goosebumps as they erupted all over Mohinder’s body, learning every place where fear and pleasure were mingling together. “How did you know about my sister?” Mohinder asked instead, confused.
“I know everything about you,” Sylar murmured, mouth sliding along Mohinder’s neck, sucking at a pulse point he knew would bring Mohinder to his knees.
“No…” The word trailed into a languid moan as Mohinder relaxed against him briefly, clutching at Sylar to keep himself up, fingers driving information deep into Sylar’s body. The feeling was intensely sexual, as deep to him as a penetration of the flesh, and Sylar lost it, letting them both collapse to the floor. Frantically he drew his mouth up Mohinder’s neck, letting his tongue curl around his ear, feeling the relaxation in Mohinder’s body as Sylar ruthlessly bore down on his weak spot.
“Wanted to be the best you could, volunteered for a suicide mission because that’s what you thought you deserved. Hiro and Matt let you go because you’d just fuck up any other mission; your head wasn’t in the game.”
With Mohinder frozen in fear, confusion, and arousal, Sylar unraveled the man’s clothes, growling as his skin made full contact with Mohinder’s lean body. Secrets whispered in Mohinder’s ear became clear to him as the sound of his own voice, as potent an aphrodisiac as anything he’d ever felt, and Sylar slid his aching erection between their bodies, the way eased by water and sweat. Every twitch and thrust was punctuated by more words, an endless recitation of everything Mohinder was, bubbling up out of him like steam from a relief valve as the heat between them climbed.
“Want to go back to base, Mohinder? Go where it’s safe, where they value you. Not for your mind anymore, so sad. For what this ‘magnificent body’ can do, isn’t that right? They need your strength to help people, to break the faces of those fucking hunters that come for you. Not so special to be special, not what you wanted. You wanted all the glory, all that approval, someone to tell you that you did something right for once-.”
Mohinder tried to pull away, tried to put his hands up and shove them apart, but Sylar ruthlessly clamped them together with his mind, a snarl boiling up from deep inside of him.
“Don’t you fucking dare let go of me,” he growled with lethal menace, hips never missing a beat, hands never ceasing their exploration of Mohinder’s skin. The heat surging through Sylar’s body was getting more and more intense, until he almost felt like he was glowing, and Mohinder was staring at him, stunned. His passivity only spurred Sylar on, and he bore down harder, practically feeling bones creak, his cock twitching and smearing pre-come between them as he raced for more contact.
“Sylar, I-.”
Sylar grinned darkly as he felt an answering hardness alongside his own, his dominant display over Mohinder’s strength triggering a response the man didn’t even know he had. Ruthlessly Sylar bit down on Mohinder’s neck and slid his tongue up to his ear again, and felt Mohinder start to collapse.
More…
“Saw them wave you goodbye on for this little trip. Pine needles and sea air. Thought you were so clever, just going to the other coast…”
Sylar could feel Mohinder’s fear as a tangible thing as the endless flow of words described the Oregon safehouse, and the other specials that were there, taking a stand against the government.
It didn’t escape him that Mohinder’s arousal didn’t flag in the least. Hate and fear were reverberating through his blood, sickness and arousal and confusion, all washed over by a sudden, overwhelming feeling of helplessness and surrender. Feeling that inadvertent welcome through every cell of his skin and every pore of his body made Sylar feel practically godlike.
“You wanted to take punishment for the people you hurt in your search for your precious formula. You want penance, want to show you’re sacrificing something. Noble hypocrite,” Sylar murmured almost lovingly. “Lay down and take it like a man.” It was calculated to insult, to provoke, to force Mohinder to want to touch him, dig his hands in, struggle, to press his skin against Sylar’s and try to break free.
The glowing heat within him crested when the goad of Sylar’s words prodded Mohinder into action, anger flaring, adding another layer of intricacies to the emotions swirling through his skin. Mohinder’s hands tightened on Sylar’s flesh, his voice screaming a frantic denial as he tried to batter Sylar’s relentless voice into submission. Sylar’s mind tangled Mohinder’s hands away from the killing blow, hips churning, cocks sliding together amid their dance of violence. Sylar drew them closer into contact with every second, poisonous words devolving into moans of pleasure when they were finally nothing but a seething mass of limbs racing for completion.
Rage and hate and pleasure slammed into Sylar’s body from Mohinder’s, rising and multiplying with every moment as Mohinder inadvertently fed Sylar all the knowledge he could handle and more. He wasn’t sure who screamed first, only knew that the explosion of heat between them was enough to overload his mind and body together, sending him spinning down into blackness, a blissful moment of satiation holding him still as he left the waking world for a dream of spice-scented sunlight.
~~~~~~~~~~
“That was highly impressive, Noah. Everything you promised,” Angela said idly.
Noah Bennet nodded, calling a west coast team to raid the rebel safehouse Mohinder Suresh had originated from. They probably wouldn’t get all the rebels, but they’d be able to deprive them of their resources, and every person they captured was one more Sylar could… interrogate.
“As you said, the man has an insatiable appetite for knowledge,” Noah allowed. “You’re sure you want to use him on Peter next?”
“My son is stubborn. I think Sylar is the only one who will be able to convince him to talk,” Angela said, her mouth a single grim line. “Besides, I don’t think Sylar will hurt him.”
“I’ll set it up,” Noah promised. He watched the screen as gloved workers removed the semi-conscious Mohinder and returned Sylar to his tank.
Some part of him had been impressed by the strength of Sylar’s need for contact, and his extremely accurate reading of everything Mohinder Suresh was. And some other, hidden part of him had felt a very small flick of something like jealousy. Murderous power-addict or not, Sylar had, for a short time, been completely in sync with everything Noah Bennet had ever wanted in a partner. Noah shook his head, dismissing the fantasy as the mind’s mischief for being alone for too long. Watching Sylar’s intensity with Mohinder would have stirred the blood of a corpse, let alone someone who didn’t have to guess what it felt like to be on the receiving end of such ardent attention.
Besides, by tomorrow Sylar should be more than ready for another interrogation session.