Best Day Ever
Title: Best Day Ever
Author: jaune_chat
Fandom: Heroes
Characters/Pairings: Luke/Sylar
Rating: NC-17 for sex
Wordcount: 2,992
Spoilers: Up through 4x06, Tabula Rasa
Warnings: slash, dubcon, violence
Disclaimer: Heroes belongs to Tim Kring, NBC et al.
A/N: Written for perdiccas, because she wanted a story where Luke helps Sylar become a killer again through the use of his… lips.
Summary: Luke had the best day of his life at a carnival…
Luke hadn’t gone to a carnival since he was seven. It was probably the last time his parents had agreed on anything, the last time Luke remembered his dad as being his dad and not… what he was now. There had been cotton candy and funnel cakes and lots of rides. Luke had puked on his new shirt and spent half the carnival half-naked. It had been the most awesome day he’d been able to remember for a long time.
So when a carnival came to the town where Luke was working (washing dishes, which sucked, but one of the waitresses was hot), he decided to play hooky and go. He could always get another crappy job at an equally crappy place and still find plenty of time to do things that made life worth living. Because if he didn’t let off steam every now and then, Luke just knew he was going to lose it and melt someone’s face off. He didn’t care that he hadn’t seen anyone resembling an agent in months; since Sylar had left, he’d made it his goal not to get caught. Not by them, not by the police, and not by his mom.
He cashed his latest paycheck and managed to elbow his way to the front of the crowd when the carnival opened. When he bought his ticket (they were too hard to steal, and ticket-seller looked fucking vicious) and slipped inside, everything hit him at once: music, lights, bells, sirens, whistles, popcorn, hotdogs, grease, soda, candy, sugar, and sawdust. For a second Luke was seven again and having the best day of his life. He hung onto that feeling almost grimly as he plowed through the crowd, trying to cram new memories into every second. Things hadn’t been good for him in a long time. He deserved this.
Luke bought cotton candy and then immediately went on the tilt-a-whirl. Half the candy ended up in his hair, melted and sticky, but he couldn’t care about that. He nearly puked when he staggered off it, went on it twice more in a row until he did puke and the operator all but threw him off. Then he went for a funnel cake, hot dog, and jumbo soda, juggling them all with greater or lesser degrees of success as he walked down the midway, stuffing his face until the very memory of being sick was gone. He laughed at the suckers trying to win cheap stuffed dogs or bears for their dates at impossible rigged games of skill. Didn’t these idiots know anything? Luke had figured it out when he was seven, after sneaking into the ball-and-milk bottle tent and seeing how the knock-over displays were held together in the back.
Cheats and lies, but still fun, if you knew what to do. Luke amused himself at the air rifle tent by heating up the butts of the rifles in passing and snorting when people would pick them up and then throw them down, cursing. He set a small fire in a trash can near another tent and swiped himself a stuffed puppy, jamming it in his back pocket so people would think he’d managed to beat the impossible game.
Grinning to himself, he wandered deeper into the carnival, passing the tents with the different acts inside, knife throwing, sword swallowing, a magician, a fortuneteller, until he’d reached the House of Mirrors. There he jerked to a dead halt there as if his shoes had been stuck to the ground. Standing there, bold as brass, in a ridiculous straw hat and clingy striped shirt, was Sylar. Smiling, calling people to come inside, taking tickets, as if that were the perfectly normal thing to do.
“No way,” Luke whispered. Couldn’t be. Couldn’t possibly be. Sylar wouldn’t be doing this, wouldn’t be grinning at all these normal people, entreating them to come inside with all the practiced patter of a salesman. It had to be a trick of the light. Couldn’t be him.
Luke quickly turned and walked the opposite way around the tent, coming up on the other side and hiding himself so he could examine “Sylar” at his leisure. He looked right, almost right, right height, right features, right coloring, but his face, his eyes… Something was off there. That confidence and danger Luke remembered as being so integral to everything Sylar was was absent. The stance lacked Sylar’s almost predatory grace too. This guy was trying to be arrogant and confident, but he wasn’t dangerous. Not like Sylar. Hell, the guy was faking trying to be confident and persuasive, just like Luke, and with a lot less success.
Almost involuntarily, Luke went closer, wanting to see if he’d missed something. How could he have been so completely off base? He thought everything he knew about Sylar was seared into his memory like the scars on his skin. He couldn’t have forgotten that much about him in just a few months, could he?
Before he realized it, he was standing in front of Sylar, looking up right at him, and seeing not a glimmer of recognition in his face. And it was him. Definitely him. Couldn’t be anyone else other than Sylar. And he didn’t seem to know Luke.
What the hell? Is this a game or something? Luke thought, stomach roiling in a way that had nothing to do with greasy food or motion sickness.
“Step right up for the House of Mirrors! Ticket, sir?” Sylar asked, turning his regard to Luke.
Sir. That word alone make Luke realize the whole world was going to collapse down on him at any second, unless he could fix it, fast. A world without Sylar in it wasn’t worth living in.
“Sylar, it’s me!” he said.
The name made Sylar jerk backwards in with a start. He peered at Luke as if he’d just delivered him the answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything, hope suddenly flaring in his eyes.
“You know me?” he asked softly, hesitantly.
“Yeah, hell, how could I forget you? You’re the one that left me! I didn’t think you’d forget me so fast,” Luke blurted out.
“Forget you…?” Sylar said slowly. Shaking his head, he looked up frantically and waved someone over.
“Johnny, can you take over for me?” Without even waiting for an answer, Sylar gestured deeper into the carnival, behind the tents. “Please, come with me?”
Luke stared at him, and then followed, a pit yawning in his stomach. He’d liked Sylar because he was confident and powerful and didn’t take any bullshit from anyone. This guy was nothing like the man he’d admired so much Luke had let him do anything. If Sylar had forgotten, gotten hurt, or a power had fucked him up, Luke had to help him remember. In any way he could.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nathan quickly hurried the young man back to the residential area, out of the main flow and away from all the customers. A few people were here, mostly those between acts, but if Nathan stuck to someplace out of the way, he’d have privacy. He deliberately didn’t go to his trailer, out of a worry that Samuel, Lydia, or, God forbid, Edgar would find him too easily. Nathan had more unanswered questions than he knew what to do with, and no amount of acceptance, affection, or rivalry was getting him the things he craved to know the most.
If he truly was this “Sylar,” person, the killer and murderer, then surely this young man would be scared of him and would have run away rather than approach him. But if he knew Sylar, and wasn’t afraid, then things couldn’t possibly be that bad. He might have the answers Nathan wanted.
He ducked behind a storage trailer and sat down on an overturned crate, waving the kid down on one opposite. He sat awkwardly, and Nathan could see his hair was sticky with threads of cotton candy. The sweet smell of it clung to him like a shroud, and something deep in the recesses of his brain stirred, a faint twitch of memory flickering to life.
“What’s your name?” Nathan asked quickly, searching the kid’s round face and pale skin for any hint of familiarity.
“Luke. Luke Campbell… Sylar, come on man, drop the act. I know I was being a dick, kinda, but you left me!”
He sounded so sincere, so hopeful, that Nathan hated to disappoint him. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember. I don’t remember anything, nothing before two weeks ago.” Luke speared him with an incredulous glance, loaded with so much heat and accusation that Nathan blushed.
“Look, if you didn’t want me, why the hell did you drag me back here? Is this a test or something?”
“N- no! No test, I just wanted to talk to you. All the others, they keep saying I’m Sylar, that I’m… something I couldn’t possibly be. But I don’t think I’m capable of whatever they think I am. You knew me, Sylar, right?” Luke nodded slowly, still looking skeptical. “Tell me about him. How did you meet him?”
“You’re not shitting me. You really don’t remember,” Luke said in wonder.
“I don’t,” Nathan said, shaking his head in helpless sincerity. “But I want to. I really want to remember the truth.”
Luke stared at him for a long moment, and finally dropped to his knees in front of him. That same little corner of his brain twitched again.
“You hid out at my house after you tried to find your father,” Luke started, his voice strangely low. He leaned forward a bit and put his hand on Nathan’s knee, letting it rest there. “You took my mom and me hostage while you tortured the living shit out of that dumbfuck agent that tried to capture you. I used my power and you were-. You said I was special.”
Something growled in the back of Nathan’s mind at that word combined with the way Luke said it, his voice a seductive purr, sounding strangely like his own. He slid his hands up Nathan’s thighs, fast, and Nathan suddenly stood up, all but tripping over the crate in his haste.
“No! Luke, don’t, what the hell is wrong with you?” Nathan cried. “If I did that, oh God, what did I…? What did I do to you?”
“You took me out of my shithole life, that’s what you did!” Luke yelled, jumping back to his feet, stepping over the crate to step right in front of Nathan again. He could feel the heat radiating off of Luke’s hands as he raised them up. “I have a power, you said I was special, just like you! You let me come with you, because I knew where your dad was. It was the best fucking time of my life!
“Agents came after us, you killed them all, rescued me, taught me things, showed me things…” Luke said, taking a step forward for every one of Nathan’s involuntary steps back until they ran into the side of the trailer. He leaned right up against Nathan’s body, pressing in hard so his message couldn’t be mistaken. Nathan sucked in a breath as he felt Luke’s arousal through his pants, eager and willingly hard for someone he remembered as a killer.
No! He couldn’t be like this, couldn’t be a killer, a pervert who seduced lonely kids away from their parents. A growl sounded in his head, louder this time, as Luke’s pink lips, still sticky with candy, whispered right in his ear.
“Why would you let me do that?” Nathan asked, eyes darting to the side, looking for an escape. Luke just glared right at him and shoved a thigh in between Nathan’s legs, rocking into his groin with insistent pressure.
“You were the coolest person I ever met who ever cared whether I was alive or dead. Fuck, Sylar, you were my own personal fucking god!” Luke said, his hands coming up to rub Nathan’s chest through the thin material of his shirt. The growl inside Nathan’s head was becoming louder now, almost a low, continuous rumble. The devotion, the unexpected need in Luke’s eyes was filling an unknown craving, and Nathan felt himself getting hard, responding to Luke’s caresses even if he was almost certain he’d go to hell for letting this happen.
“I can’t let this happen, Luke, God, I can’t…” Nathan whispered, closing his eyes and trying to make his rebellious limbs escape. Even his involuntary powers weren’t cooperating, and Luke remained gloriously plastered to his body.
“Tell me you remember, please,” Luke pleaded, and Nathan could only shake his head in confusion, panting in arousal.
“This isn’t you,” Luke said, eyes narrowing. “Sylar wouldn’t be in a place like this. Come on man, whatever these people said they were, they’re not. They’re using you; they have to be. Fuck, man, you were the boogeyman for the entire government, and you’re taking tickets at a carnival funhouse? Sylar would have killed you on principle for shit like that.”
“They’re not using me,” Nathan managed to gasp. “They’re like me. With powers. All of them. It’s a family.”
“Family sucks,” Luke said flatly. “I know that. You said that. Hell, you said you were going to kill your worthless dad after you figured out he killed your mom. You wanted powers, and you took them. That’s your thing, that’s your goal. That’s what you told me, to always have a goal. This place, this isn’t a goal, it’s a dead end!”
Nathan gasped as the heat and pressure suddenly let up. Looking down, Luke was on his knees, his face nuzzling Nathan’s groin with thoroughly wanton moans.
“Let me show you. You always said I was the best at this. You have to remember this. We don’t need anyone, just us…”
Nathan was flushing from head to toe, embarrassed and hard, desperately wanting to both believe and forget at the same time. A protest started to form, and then Luke slid Nathan’s belt out with a single smooth motion, sliding the zipper down with his teeth-!
“Where the fuck did you learn that?!” Nathan almost squeaked. Luke grinned up at him and licked his lips, hands sliding under Nathan’s waistband and sliding his pants and underwear down slowly, lavishing wet kisses and tonguing trails on every exposed bit of skin. Shame and desire were roiling in his gut, shame at the damaged young man wanting to do this, and desire to never have him stop.
“Luke, Luke, fuck- don’t!” Nathan protested, throwing his head back hard enough to slam against he trailer as Luke eased the tip of his cock free and closed his lips over it. The pain seemed to jar something loose in his head, and when he looked down at Luke’s candy-scented lips sliding down his shaft, all he could think of was how right it looked. How perfectly they fit around him, how beautiful they looked all spit-swollen and red. One of Nathan’s hands dropped down onto Luke’s head, feeling the sticky candy in his hair, passively guiding him to take more and more down his talented throat.
That feeling was familiar, intensely, beautifully familiar. They’d done this before, with Luke’s hair sticky with blood from where it’d been petted with murderous hands. The smell of cheap soap, the faint whiff of old cigarettes, scratchy bed covers and thin motel carpets. All of it not mattering in the aftermath of their victory, celebrating each other in the way Luke’d been taught.
It felt good, fantastic, and when Luke swallowed around him, caressing his cock with his hand and tongue, the growl in his head became a crescendo. It burst out of his throat like a caged lion, and Sylar’s hand gripped Luke’s hair possessively, jerking him to a better angle to thrust down his throat. Luke’s eyes lit up at the rough treatment and he opened his throat completely, taking random breaths through his nose so Sylar could go as deep and hard as he wanted.
Confidence and power began to surge through every synapse of Sylar’s mind as he saw the naked worship in Luke’s eyes, the mirror of everything he wanted to be seen as. Hunger long-denied swept through him in a rising tide, and Sylar roared his triumph and return as his orgasm swept through him like wildfire. Luke drank it all in, cheeks bulging, dribbles of semen pushing past his lips as he tried to contain the overwhelming flood.
Swallowing again and again, Luke finally managed to get enough breath to speak. “Sylar?” he asked tentatively. Looking into the other man’s dark and predatory eyes, Luke felt like the world had just righted itself again.
“I thought I told you to go home to your mother,” Sylar said with a smirk, pulling Luke to his feet.
“Family sucks,” Luke repeated, eyes dilated with lust as Sylar irritatedly took his straw hat off and shoved it into Luke’s hands. Without a question, Luke burned the thing into cinders as Sylar raked his hair back into place.
“Yes. Yes they do.” Looking back over his shoulder at the rest of the carnival, Sylar scowled. Liars and thieves, every one of them, having stole the most precious part of him, his reputation, his memories, his very self. The part of him Luke could never forget. Pulling Luke flush with him, Sylar kissed him hard, feeling triumph like fire when Luke seized and came from the kiss alone.
“I don’t need anyone but you,” Sylar growled. “And I think it’s time Samuel learned that.”
“Yeah?” Luke whispered, still shaky with the aftermath of pleasure and rediscovery.
Sylar cracked electricity from one hand to the other in perfect control. “Yeah. Let’s go, Luke.”
Two hours later, bathed in blood, the wreckage of the carnival all around him, Sylar triumphantly claiming his last prize, Luke was certain he’d never had a better day in his life.
Author: jaune_chat
Fandom: Heroes
Characters/Pairings: Luke/Sylar
Rating: NC-17 for sex
Wordcount: 2,992
Spoilers: Up through 4x06, Tabula Rasa
Warnings: slash, dubcon, violence
Disclaimer: Heroes belongs to Tim Kring, NBC et al.
A/N: Written for perdiccas, because she wanted a story where Luke helps Sylar become a killer again through the use of his… lips.
Summary: Luke had the best day of his life at a carnival…
Luke hadn’t gone to a carnival since he was seven. It was probably the last time his parents had agreed on anything, the last time Luke remembered his dad as being his dad and not… what he was now. There had been cotton candy and funnel cakes and lots of rides. Luke had puked on his new shirt and spent half the carnival half-naked. It had been the most awesome day he’d been able to remember for a long time.
So when a carnival came to the town where Luke was working (washing dishes, which sucked, but one of the waitresses was hot), he decided to play hooky and go. He could always get another crappy job at an equally crappy place and still find plenty of time to do things that made life worth living. Because if he didn’t let off steam every now and then, Luke just knew he was going to lose it and melt someone’s face off. He didn’t care that he hadn’t seen anyone resembling an agent in months; since Sylar had left, he’d made it his goal not to get caught. Not by them, not by the police, and not by his mom.
He cashed his latest paycheck and managed to elbow his way to the front of the crowd when the carnival opened. When he bought his ticket (they were too hard to steal, and ticket-seller looked fucking vicious) and slipped inside, everything hit him at once: music, lights, bells, sirens, whistles, popcorn, hotdogs, grease, soda, candy, sugar, and sawdust. For a second Luke was seven again and having the best day of his life. He hung onto that feeling almost grimly as he plowed through the crowd, trying to cram new memories into every second. Things hadn’t been good for him in a long time. He deserved this.
Luke bought cotton candy and then immediately went on the tilt-a-whirl. Half the candy ended up in his hair, melted and sticky, but he couldn’t care about that. He nearly puked when he staggered off it, went on it twice more in a row until he did puke and the operator all but threw him off. Then he went for a funnel cake, hot dog, and jumbo soda, juggling them all with greater or lesser degrees of success as he walked down the midway, stuffing his face until the very memory of being sick was gone. He laughed at the suckers trying to win cheap stuffed dogs or bears for their dates at impossible rigged games of skill. Didn’t these idiots know anything? Luke had figured it out when he was seven, after sneaking into the ball-and-milk bottle tent and seeing how the knock-over displays were held together in the back.
Cheats and lies, but still fun, if you knew what to do. Luke amused himself at the air rifle tent by heating up the butts of the rifles in passing and snorting when people would pick them up and then throw them down, cursing. He set a small fire in a trash can near another tent and swiped himself a stuffed puppy, jamming it in his back pocket so people would think he’d managed to beat the impossible game.
Grinning to himself, he wandered deeper into the carnival, passing the tents with the different acts inside, knife throwing, sword swallowing, a magician, a fortuneteller, until he’d reached the House of Mirrors. There he jerked to a dead halt there as if his shoes had been stuck to the ground. Standing there, bold as brass, in a ridiculous straw hat and clingy striped shirt, was Sylar. Smiling, calling people to come inside, taking tickets, as if that were the perfectly normal thing to do.
“No way,” Luke whispered. Couldn’t be. Couldn’t possibly be. Sylar wouldn’t be doing this, wouldn’t be grinning at all these normal people, entreating them to come inside with all the practiced patter of a salesman. It had to be a trick of the light. Couldn’t be him.
Luke quickly turned and walked the opposite way around the tent, coming up on the other side and hiding himself so he could examine “Sylar” at his leisure. He looked right, almost right, right height, right features, right coloring, but his face, his eyes… Something was off there. That confidence and danger Luke remembered as being so integral to everything Sylar was was absent. The stance lacked Sylar’s almost predatory grace too. This guy was trying to be arrogant and confident, but he wasn’t dangerous. Not like Sylar. Hell, the guy was faking trying to be confident and persuasive, just like Luke, and with a lot less success.
Almost involuntarily, Luke went closer, wanting to see if he’d missed something. How could he have been so completely off base? He thought everything he knew about Sylar was seared into his memory like the scars on his skin. He couldn’t have forgotten that much about him in just a few months, could he?
Before he realized it, he was standing in front of Sylar, looking up right at him, and seeing not a glimmer of recognition in his face. And it was him. Definitely him. Couldn’t be anyone else other than Sylar. And he didn’t seem to know Luke.
What the hell? Is this a game or something? Luke thought, stomach roiling in a way that had nothing to do with greasy food or motion sickness.
“Step right up for the House of Mirrors! Ticket, sir?” Sylar asked, turning his regard to Luke.
Sir. That word alone make Luke realize the whole world was going to collapse down on him at any second, unless he could fix it, fast. A world without Sylar in it wasn’t worth living in.
“Sylar, it’s me!” he said.
The name made Sylar jerk backwards in with a start. He peered at Luke as if he’d just delivered him the answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything, hope suddenly flaring in his eyes.
“You know me?” he asked softly, hesitantly.
“Yeah, hell, how could I forget you? You’re the one that left me! I didn’t think you’d forget me so fast,” Luke blurted out.
“Forget you…?” Sylar said slowly. Shaking his head, he looked up frantically and waved someone over.
“Johnny, can you take over for me?” Without even waiting for an answer, Sylar gestured deeper into the carnival, behind the tents. “Please, come with me?”
Luke stared at him, and then followed, a pit yawning in his stomach. He’d liked Sylar because he was confident and powerful and didn’t take any bullshit from anyone. This guy was nothing like the man he’d admired so much Luke had let him do anything. If Sylar had forgotten, gotten hurt, or a power had fucked him up, Luke had to help him remember. In any way he could.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nathan quickly hurried the young man back to the residential area, out of the main flow and away from all the customers. A few people were here, mostly those between acts, but if Nathan stuck to someplace out of the way, he’d have privacy. He deliberately didn’t go to his trailer, out of a worry that Samuel, Lydia, or, God forbid, Edgar would find him too easily. Nathan had more unanswered questions than he knew what to do with, and no amount of acceptance, affection, or rivalry was getting him the things he craved to know the most.
If he truly was this “Sylar,” person, the killer and murderer, then surely this young man would be scared of him and would have run away rather than approach him. But if he knew Sylar, and wasn’t afraid, then things couldn’t possibly be that bad. He might have the answers Nathan wanted.
He ducked behind a storage trailer and sat down on an overturned crate, waving the kid down on one opposite. He sat awkwardly, and Nathan could see his hair was sticky with threads of cotton candy. The sweet smell of it clung to him like a shroud, and something deep in the recesses of his brain stirred, a faint twitch of memory flickering to life.
“What’s your name?” Nathan asked quickly, searching the kid’s round face and pale skin for any hint of familiarity.
“Luke. Luke Campbell… Sylar, come on man, drop the act. I know I was being a dick, kinda, but you left me!”
He sounded so sincere, so hopeful, that Nathan hated to disappoint him. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember. I don’t remember anything, nothing before two weeks ago.” Luke speared him with an incredulous glance, loaded with so much heat and accusation that Nathan blushed.
“Look, if you didn’t want me, why the hell did you drag me back here? Is this a test or something?”
“N- no! No test, I just wanted to talk to you. All the others, they keep saying I’m Sylar, that I’m… something I couldn’t possibly be. But I don’t think I’m capable of whatever they think I am. You knew me, Sylar, right?” Luke nodded slowly, still looking skeptical. “Tell me about him. How did you meet him?”
“You’re not shitting me. You really don’t remember,” Luke said in wonder.
“I don’t,” Nathan said, shaking his head in helpless sincerity. “But I want to. I really want to remember the truth.”
Luke stared at him for a long moment, and finally dropped to his knees in front of him. That same little corner of his brain twitched again.
“You hid out at my house after you tried to find your father,” Luke started, his voice strangely low. He leaned forward a bit and put his hand on Nathan’s knee, letting it rest there. “You took my mom and me hostage while you tortured the living shit out of that dumbfuck agent that tried to capture you. I used my power and you were-. You said I was special.”
Something growled in the back of Nathan’s mind at that word combined with the way Luke said it, his voice a seductive purr, sounding strangely like his own. He slid his hands up Nathan’s thighs, fast, and Nathan suddenly stood up, all but tripping over the crate in his haste.
“No! Luke, don’t, what the hell is wrong with you?” Nathan cried. “If I did that, oh God, what did I…? What did I do to you?”
“You took me out of my shithole life, that’s what you did!” Luke yelled, jumping back to his feet, stepping over the crate to step right in front of Nathan again. He could feel the heat radiating off of Luke’s hands as he raised them up. “I have a power, you said I was special, just like you! You let me come with you, because I knew where your dad was. It was the best fucking time of my life!
“Agents came after us, you killed them all, rescued me, taught me things, showed me things…” Luke said, taking a step forward for every one of Nathan’s involuntary steps back until they ran into the side of the trailer. He leaned right up against Nathan’s body, pressing in hard so his message couldn’t be mistaken. Nathan sucked in a breath as he felt Luke’s arousal through his pants, eager and willingly hard for someone he remembered as a killer.
No! He couldn’t be like this, couldn’t be a killer, a pervert who seduced lonely kids away from their parents. A growl sounded in his head, louder this time, as Luke’s pink lips, still sticky with candy, whispered right in his ear.
“Why would you let me do that?” Nathan asked, eyes darting to the side, looking for an escape. Luke just glared right at him and shoved a thigh in between Nathan’s legs, rocking into his groin with insistent pressure.
“You were the coolest person I ever met who ever cared whether I was alive or dead. Fuck, Sylar, you were my own personal fucking god!” Luke said, his hands coming up to rub Nathan’s chest through the thin material of his shirt. The growl inside Nathan’s head was becoming louder now, almost a low, continuous rumble. The devotion, the unexpected need in Luke’s eyes was filling an unknown craving, and Nathan felt himself getting hard, responding to Luke’s caresses even if he was almost certain he’d go to hell for letting this happen.
“I can’t let this happen, Luke, God, I can’t…” Nathan whispered, closing his eyes and trying to make his rebellious limbs escape. Even his involuntary powers weren’t cooperating, and Luke remained gloriously plastered to his body.
“Tell me you remember, please,” Luke pleaded, and Nathan could only shake his head in confusion, panting in arousal.
“This isn’t you,” Luke said, eyes narrowing. “Sylar wouldn’t be in a place like this. Come on man, whatever these people said they were, they’re not. They’re using you; they have to be. Fuck, man, you were the boogeyman for the entire government, and you’re taking tickets at a carnival funhouse? Sylar would have killed you on principle for shit like that.”
“They’re not using me,” Nathan managed to gasp. “They’re like me. With powers. All of them. It’s a family.”
“Family sucks,” Luke said flatly. “I know that. You said that. Hell, you said you were going to kill your worthless dad after you figured out he killed your mom. You wanted powers, and you took them. That’s your thing, that’s your goal. That’s what you told me, to always have a goal. This place, this isn’t a goal, it’s a dead end!”
Nathan gasped as the heat and pressure suddenly let up. Looking down, Luke was on his knees, his face nuzzling Nathan’s groin with thoroughly wanton moans.
“Let me show you. You always said I was the best at this. You have to remember this. We don’t need anyone, just us…”
Nathan was flushing from head to toe, embarrassed and hard, desperately wanting to both believe and forget at the same time. A protest started to form, and then Luke slid Nathan’s belt out with a single smooth motion, sliding the zipper down with his teeth-!
“Where the fuck did you learn that?!” Nathan almost squeaked. Luke grinned up at him and licked his lips, hands sliding under Nathan’s waistband and sliding his pants and underwear down slowly, lavishing wet kisses and tonguing trails on every exposed bit of skin. Shame and desire were roiling in his gut, shame at the damaged young man wanting to do this, and desire to never have him stop.
“Luke, Luke, fuck- don’t!” Nathan protested, throwing his head back hard enough to slam against he trailer as Luke eased the tip of his cock free and closed his lips over it. The pain seemed to jar something loose in his head, and when he looked down at Luke’s candy-scented lips sliding down his shaft, all he could think of was how right it looked. How perfectly they fit around him, how beautiful they looked all spit-swollen and red. One of Nathan’s hands dropped down onto Luke’s head, feeling the sticky candy in his hair, passively guiding him to take more and more down his talented throat.
That feeling was familiar, intensely, beautifully familiar. They’d done this before, with Luke’s hair sticky with blood from where it’d been petted with murderous hands. The smell of cheap soap, the faint whiff of old cigarettes, scratchy bed covers and thin motel carpets. All of it not mattering in the aftermath of their victory, celebrating each other in the way Luke’d been taught.
It felt good, fantastic, and when Luke swallowed around him, caressing his cock with his hand and tongue, the growl in his head became a crescendo. It burst out of his throat like a caged lion, and Sylar’s hand gripped Luke’s hair possessively, jerking him to a better angle to thrust down his throat. Luke’s eyes lit up at the rough treatment and he opened his throat completely, taking random breaths through his nose so Sylar could go as deep and hard as he wanted.
Confidence and power began to surge through every synapse of Sylar’s mind as he saw the naked worship in Luke’s eyes, the mirror of everything he wanted to be seen as. Hunger long-denied swept through him in a rising tide, and Sylar roared his triumph and return as his orgasm swept through him like wildfire. Luke drank it all in, cheeks bulging, dribbles of semen pushing past his lips as he tried to contain the overwhelming flood.
Swallowing again and again, Luke finally managed to get enough breath to speak. “Sylar?” he asked tentatively. Looking into the other man’s dark and predatory eyes, Luke felt like the world had just righted itself again.
“I thought I told you to go home to your mother,” Sylar said with a smirk, pulling Luke to his feet.
“Family sucks,” Luke repeated, eyes dilated with lust as Sylar irritatedly took his straw hat off and shoved it into Luke’s hands. Without a question, Luke burned the thing into cinders as Sylar raked his hair back into place.
“Yes. Yes they do.” Looking back over his shoulder at the rest of the carnival, Sylar scowled. Liars and thieves, every one of them, having stole the most precious part of him, his reputation, his memories, his very self. The part of him Luke could never forget. Pulling Luke flush with him, Sylar kissed him hard, feeling triumph like fire when Luke seized and came from the kiss alone.
“I don’t need anyone but you,” Sylar growled. “And I think it’s time Samuel learned that.”
“Yeah?” Luke whispered, still shaky with the aftermath of pleasure and rediscovery.
Sylar cracked electricity from one hand to the other in perfect control. “Yeah. Let’s go, Luke.”
Two hours later, bathed in blood, the wreckage of the carnival all around him, Sylar triumphantly claiming his last prize, Luke was certain he’d never had a better day in his life.