Unequal Trade
Title: Unequal Trade
Author: jaune_chat
Fandoms: Heroes
Characters/Pairings: Nathan/Sylar
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 2,720
Spoilers: Roughly around 3x22 “Turn and Face the Strange”
Warnings: Dub-con, abuse of powers, marking, humiliation, implied incest
Disclaimer: Heroes belongs to Tim Kring, NBC et al
A/N: Thanks to redandglenda and brighteyed_jill for betaing! Written for crashgirl82 for heroes_exchange.
Summary: Sylar will capture Peter for Nathan, if he’s willing suffer for it…
“Two months.”
Danko didn’t even look up from his desk, and Nathan stopped himself before he pressed his lips together in a visible show of annoyance.
“You’ve done an excellent job, Emile. Captured nearly every special on the list, neutralized the most dangerous ones, and made this country a safer place. But it’s been two months,” Nathan repeated.
“Your brother is a difficult man to catch,” Danko said, leaning back in his chair. His casualness was calculated to insult, and Nathan carefully held onto his temper. “Always a different power, moving from place to place… You know, in some ways, we should thank him. Every time he shows a new power, we find another special that’s been in hiding.”
“That’s why you haven’t brought him in? You’ve having him act as a bird-dog?” Nathan asked tightly. “He’s dangerous, he’s unstable-.”
“Senator, my men would never let a dangerous man like your brother run around without putting every effort into capturing him,” Danko said, pale eyes looking up and locking with Nathan’s. “I suggest you talk with Agent Taub. He’s the one in charge of Alpha team.”
The smirk on Danko’s face was almost too much, but Nathan managed to keep from snapping as he turned on his heel to leave. More than once, Nathan wanted to replace Danko, to bring in someone who wouldn’t constantly challenge his authority. But it was that very thing that made Danko an effective hunter. Kowtowing to Nathan wouldn’t get specials caught or keep Building 26 running. A good hunter needed to be independent, strong, intelligent, clever, and be able to think like his prey.
But in order to lead other hunters, you had to be even better. That meant Agent Taub was just a little bit less than Danko. He was someone Nathan could reason with. Probably Taub had managed to screw up somehow, and Danko was using Nathan to give the man an additional dressing-down, but at this point Nathan needed someone he could vent on. He and Danko were working as a team, after all, and they’d slowly gotten better at realizing what the other needed. Right now, Nathan needed a target.
Taub’s office was in an out-of-the-way corridor at the end of the least-used part of the building. A strange place for a field leader, but it made it more convenient for Nathan. Here he could lay into the agent without having to compromise the chain of command. Having someone overhear the top players arguing could foster dissent, and Nathan didn’t want to deal with that. Not when everything was going otherwise very well.
The door wasn’t even closed, letting Nathan shove it open dramatically and making Taub jump in his seat. The man didn’t look like much of an agent; he had a bland, babyish face, more like one you’d see on a successful lawyer or used car salesman, not on a trained soldier and hunter.
“Taub, I need to have a word with you,” Nathan said, filling up the doorway and tilting his head so he could look down his nose at the man. Taub rose from his seat automatically, but Nathan simply squared his shoulders and stared him down. Nathan was shorter than nearly every other hunter save Danko, and he was used to compensating for height and muscle with every ounce of intimidating charm and charisma he’d honed over a lifetime. Taub wasn’t immune to the effect, and settled back in parade rest, hands behind his back, waiting for orders.
Nathan made a mental note to compliment Danko on his men’s training. Taub might have let Peter slip through his fingers more than once, but at least he knew how to take his punishment.
“You’ve let Peter escape. It’s been-.”
“Two months,” Taub said, interrupting. “I know. Danko told me. You really shouldn’t worry about it. It’s none of your concern, Senator.”
Nathan mentally retracted his compliment.
“Peter’s dangerous. This is my operation, and I know exactly how dangerous he is. It is my concern. You’ve been letting me down, soldier; you’ve been letting down the American people. We’ve given you the best intelligence possible, and you’re always one step behind!” Nathan thundered, getting up to a full head of steam. “He’s one man! He’s a nurse, for God’s sake. He’s not trained in counter-surveillance or combat tactics; he doesn’t have secret identities, false passports, or huge amounts of money hidden away somewhere. He just has his power, and that doesn’t make him impossible to catch, not even for you.”
Taub took the verbal beating with remarkably good grace, actually smiling a little at Nathan’s last line. Nathan’s temper began to fray at the obvious insolence. It wasn’t just all the hunters’ attitudes in general about Peter that had bent Nathan out of shape, though their thinly veiled contempt at running down the senator’s brother like a dog was fairly obvious. It was Peter’s continued silence and blatant resistance in the face of everything Nathan was trying to accomplish that had him so on edge.
Nathan hadn’t been able to speak to him since before Peter had been captured and escaped the first time. He’d never been able to truly explain things to Peter, or make him understand, and by now the frustration of breaking off with his brother was as much a part of his obsession as Peter being a fugitive. He would have given anything, broken anyone to get Peter back. Taub was just going to have to pay the price for setting Nathan off at the worst possible time.
“Why haven’t you found him yet?” Nathan demanded, taking a step so he could spit his demand right into Taub’s face.
Taub looked down at him and smirked. Something about it made Nathan’s blood run cold, and he began to wonder if he’d made a fundamental mistake. He and Danko may have been getting along, but Danko had also made it clear that he’d be just as happy to hunt down specials without Nathan’s “guidance.” This quiet and isolated office could easily become a killing ground.
“Because you haven’t made it worth my while,” Taub said. But it wasn’t Taub’s voice. It was deeper, raspier, and Nathan didn’t recognize it until Taub’s face shifted and writhed, his bones and muscles snapping and reforming until the shift was completed.
It was Sylar.
He made a short gesture with one hand, and Nathan was shoved away from him. Not to be slammed into a wall, but enough to provide a respectful conversational distance. It took Nathan a moment to realize he wasn’t dead.
“Worth your while,” Nathan repeated, his voice expressionless. He was too surprised to even be frightened.
“Peter’s the last one on the list. The white whale,” Sylar said, the smirk on his face looking even more unbearably smug than it had on Taub’s. “Everyone wants him. But when we get him… well. Forget all those other specials out there. Forget all those dozens of people with abilities in hiding. Once you reach a goal, you stop striving for anything more. Think about it, Senator. I’m doing you a favor.” Sylar made Nathan’s title into a mockery, and anger began to burn through the surprise.
“A favor? By feeding you?” Nathan snapped. He would have said more, but invisible pressure along his jaw shut his mouth. Nathan struggled, his limbs twitching against an unseen hold, his mouth straining against Sylar’s telekinetic grip, but he couldn’t get free enough to speak.
“Yes. I make you and Danko look good. But, if you have a different idea…” Sylar trailed off and let Nathan’s mouth free.
He didn’t talk immediately, not wanting to give Sylar the satisfaction. The whole dynamic had shifted the instant Sylar had revealed himself. Nathan’s priorities had gone from finding Peter to walking out of this office alive.
“Do you still want Peter?” Sylar asked, tilting his head curiously.
“Yes,” Nathan said immediately, the answer so automatic he didn’t think to censor it.
“Why? And tell me the truth,” Sylar said, his tone a chastisement, like a stern teacher.
Nathan wondered if Sylar was telepathic now. He’d lost track of how many specials had been brought in, and he certainly wasn’t aware of all of their abilities. There was no telling what powers he might have acquired.
Sylar smirked again and shook his head slightly, as if he’d been following Nathan’s line of thought. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m not going to kill him.”
“You wouldn’t. You have too much fun chasing him,” Nathan said positively. Sylar wouldn’t have strung this along for so much time unless he was getting something out of it other than just powers. God knew Sylar had reason to kill Peter, what with all their history between them, so something else must have happened.
Sylar stepped closer, deliberately breaking into Nathan’s space, close enough to smell him and feel the warmth of his body. The hairs on the back of Nathan’s neck stood up, not entirely with fear. He was being toyed with, but if Sylar had wanted him dead, for any reason, he could have done it long before now. There were different needs at play here, for both of them.
“I’d give up the chase, but I’ll need something in return,” Sylar whispered right in Nathan’s ear. The telekinetic grip dropped suddenly, and Nathan staggered at the loss of support.
Nathan didn’t bother to ask what Sylar wanted, and flushed with anger at Sylar’s glittering, avaricious gaze. It wasn’t the proposition that bothered him that much; as a politician he was used to whoring himself out on a regular basis. It just wasn’t always so… physical. And rarely had Nathan ever been in the position of supplicant.
“Well? How badly do you want your brother in your private custody?” Sylar taunted.
Red broke across Nathan’s vision at the implication and he lunged at Sylar, only to find himself back in an implacable telekinetic grip.
“Good answer,” Sylar said thoughtfully. The grip dropped, and the moment’s respite had given Nathan just enough self-control to keep his hands from rising up and trying to throttle Sylar.
“Very good,” Sylar repeated. “Now… You know what to do.”
Nathan jerked his head in the negative, and Sylar sighed in obvious exasperation.
“Let me make this easy. I know where Peter is. I will get him and bring him back here for you. But I won’t do it until I’ve gotten some recompense for being treated like your and Danko’s personal punching bag. Kneel,” Sylar said, reinforcing his command with pressure on Nathan’s shoulders and legs.
Telekinetic pressure stopped Nathan from talking or moving, but it didn’t stop him from flushing red with furious embarrassment as Sylar deliberately took a step forward, pressing his arousal into Nathan’s face, the heat obvious even through the layers of cloth. It was like he was being marked, like a dog staking its territorial claim, and Nathan couldn’t even turn his face away in disgust.
Smiling at Nathan’s discomfort, Sylar squatted in front of him, regarding him with a curious tilt of his head. Reaching out, Sylar deliberately mussed Nathan’s hair, jerked his tie loose, undid a few buttons on his shirt and loosened his pants and belt. Nathan felt cheap, like an incautious and flagrant dilettante after a casual roll in the hay, so wanton he didn’t even bother to straighten himself before rejoining the civilized world.
“Better,” Sylar said, sounding satisfied. He stood again, undoing his own belt and freeing his cock practically in Nathan’s face, letting it slap against his cheek. It felt like it was burning Nathan’s skin, and the heavy, musky scent of it overwhelmed his nostrils. Pulling back a bit, Sylar pressed the tip against Nathan’s lips, releasing the telekinetic pressure as he did.
“You know better than to bite,” Sylar warned, and Nathan opened his mouth to accept Sylar’s girth, face burning with shame. His jaw stretched as Sylar pushed his way in, and Nathan merely concentrated on trying to get enough air through every deep, choking thrust.
Then Sylar chuckled, and Nathan felt invisible fingers begin to take control of his tongue, mouth, and throat. Sickeningly, Nathan felt himself begin to lap and slurp at Sylar with a passion he in no way felt, head bobbing to slide Sylar down his throat like a professional whore. After a few moments, the telekinetic pressure disappeared, and Nathan kept himself passive, damned if he were going to perform to Sylar’s specifications.
“Come on now, Nathan. You’re not being very convincing.” Nathan was locked in place as Sylar pressed himself in to the hilt, blocking Nathan’s air for an agonizingly long minute before moving away again. “You’re supposed to be persuading me to do you a favor.”
Nathan wanted to shake his head no, but Sylar held him still, so he could only glare his hatred.
Sylar tsked and looked mock-sad. “Well, if I can get better treatment from Peter, then there’s no reason to bring him in for you. You certainly don’t deserve that talented mouth of his.” Sylar pulled out of Nathan’s mouth with a wet pop, shaking his head in ostentatious regret. “I suppose you’ll just have to live secure in the knowledge that your little brother can persuade me far better than you.”
The anger Nathan had been feeling flared again, along with a confusing mingle of shame and competitiveness. Sylar’s taunts were just that, a way to try to get a reaction out of him, to make him say or do something that would give Sylar an edge. Normally Nathan wouldn’t have let such insults touch him, but the implication, the bare suggestion that Peter’s continued freedom hinged on his ability to keep Sylar satisfied had Nathan quickly moving past anger, into a focused clarity that held only a single thought: Sylar would never touch his brother again.
Nathan burned with shame but didn’t let that stop him as he dropped his façade of ignorance. Sylar pushed at him again, giving him one last option to refuse, and this time Nathan put every ounce of skill to work, moving lips, tongue, throat, and head in perfect concert. He took Sylar deep and held him there before drawing back to tease and arouse anew, gut curdling with disgust as Sylar moaned softly in appreciation.
“Very… nice. It’s clear… where Peter… learned…” Sylar said, stretching out his words around Nathan’s slurps.
Nathan’s face was practically on fire, and he felt faint, a roaring in his ears preceding nearly passing out from shame. Sylar must have been watching him, and became even more embarrassingly vocal, deliberately adding to Nathan’s humiliation.
“So practiced at this… So good… Slut for it, like Peter… Yeah…”
Nathan drove himself hard, desperate to end this quickly, only to gasp in shock as Sylar pulled away from him. He didn’t have any more warning than that before Sylar’s telekinetic grip firmed on his body, holding him in place as Sylar let stripes of come fly across his face and hair. Nathan closed his eyes, the sound of blood rushing in his ears almost deafening as the hot spunk began to drip slightly down his face. Then the telekinetic hold was gone, and Nathan caught himself, panting on all fours, shivering with revulsion.
He heard Sylar zip himself up and walk around Nathan to get to the door, pausing to appreciate the view of Nathan on all fours.
“I’ll be back soon. Then we’re going to have a family reunion. And that’s something I’m dying to see,” Sylar said, avaricious glee in his voice.
Sylar’s footsteps faded down the quiet corridor as Nathan pushed himself up on his knees, hands shaking as the rubbed the spunk off his face. Nausea crested, and Nathan grabbed for the trashcan, emptying his stomach of every memory of Sylar’s taste and selfish demands. It took a long time for his equilibrium to return, until Nathan could finally stagger to the nearest restroom to set himself to rights with water, soap, and the knowledge that Peter would soon be back.
Yes, he couldn’t wait to see Peter either. He was dying for it, desperate to hear from Peter’s own lips how he’d betrayed him. For making him give away the one thing Nathan had promised he’d never give anyone other than Peter.
--END--
Prompt used:
3. Sylar/Nathan: AU. After the Building 26 operation is almost a complete success, Peter has eluded capture. Nathan convinces Sylar to help him track down his brother, and Nathan has to trade his dignity to get it. No matter what, Nathan is not to die, okay? Dark and angsty is preferred.
Author: jaune_chat
Fandoms: Heroes
Characters/Pairings: Nathan/Sylar
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 2,720
Spoilers: Roughly around 3x22 “Turn and Face the Strange”
Warnings: Dub-con, abuse of powers, marking, humiliation, implied incest
Disclaimer: Heroes belongs to Tim Kring, NBC et al
A/N: Thanks to redandglenda and brighteyed_jill for betaing! Written for crashgirl82 for heroes_exchange.
Summary: Sylar will capture Peter for Nathan, if he’s willing suffer for it…
“Two months.”
Danko didn’t even look up from his desk, and Nathan stopped himself before he pressed his lips together in a visible show of annoyance.
“You’ve done an excellent job, Emile. Captured nearly every special on the list, neutralized the most dangerous ones, and made this country a safer place. But it’s been two months,” Nathan repeated.
“Your brother is a difficult man to catch,” Danko said, leaning back in his chair. His casualness was calculated to insult, and Nathan carefully held onto his temper. “Always a different power, moving from place to place… You know, in some ways, we should thank him. Every time he shows a new power, we find another special that’s been in hiding.”
“That’s why you haven’t brought him in? You’ve having him act as a bird-dog?” Nathan asked tightly. “He’s dangerous, he’s unstable-.”
“Senator, my men would never let a dangerous man like your brother run around without putting every effort into capturing him,” Danko said, pale eyes looking up and locking with Nathan’s. “I suggest you talk with Agent Taub. He’s the one in charge of Alpha team.”
The smirk on Danko’s face was almost too much, but Nathan managed to keep from snapping as he turned on his heel to leave. More than once, Nathan wanted to replace Danko, to bring in someone who wouldn’t constantly challenge his authority. But it was that very thing that made Danko an effective hunter. Kowtowing to Nathan wouldn’t get specials caught or keep Building 26 running. A good hunter needed to be independent, strong, intelligent, clever, and be able to think like his prey.
But in order to lead other hunters, you had to be even better. That meant Agent Taub was just a little bit less than Danko. He was someone Nathan could reason with. Probably Taub had managed to screw up somehow, and Danko was using Nathan to give the man an additional dressing-down, but at this point Nathan needed someone he could vent on. He and Danko were working as a team, after all, and they’d slowly gotten better at realizing what the other needed. Right now, Nathan needed a target.
Taub’s office was in an out-of-the-way corridor at the end of the least-used part of the building. A strange place for a field leader, but it made it more convenient for Nathan. Here he could lay into the agent without having to compromise the chain of command. Having someone overhear the top players arguing could foster dissent, and Nathan didn’t want to deal with that. Not when everything was going otherwise very well.
The door wasn’t even closed, letting Nathan shove it open dramatically and making Taub jump in his seat. The man didn’t look like much of an agent; he had a bland, babyish face, more like one you’d see on a successful lawyer or used car salesman, not on a trained soldier and hunter.
“Taub, I need to have a word with you,” Nathan said, filling up the doorway and tilting his head so he could look down his nose at the man. Taub rose from his seat automatically, but Nathan simply squared his shoulders and stared him down. Nathan was shorter than nearly every other hunter save Danko, and he was used to compensating for height and muscle with every ounce of intimidating charm and charisma he’d honed over a lifetime. Taub wasn’t immune to the effect, and settled back in parade rest, hands behind his back, waiting for orders.
Nathan made a mental note to compliment Danko on his men’s training. Taub might have let Peter slip through his fingers more than once, but at least he knew how to take his punishment.
“You’ve let Peter escape. It’s been-.”
“Two months,” Taub said, interrupting. “I know. Danko told me. You really shouldn’t worry about it. It’s none of your concern, Senator.”
Nathan mentally retracted his compliment.
“Peter’s dangerous. This is my operation, and I know exactly how dangerous he is. It is my concern. You’ve been letting me down, soldier; you’ve been letting down the American people. We’ve given you the best intelligence possible, and you’re always one step behind!” Nathan thundered, getting up to a full head of steam. “He’s one man! He’s a nurse, for God’s sake. He’s not trained in counter-surveillance or combat tactics; he doesn’t have secret identities, false passports, or huge amounts of money hidden away somewhere. He just has his power, and that doesn’t make him impossible to catch, not even for you.”
Taub took the verbal beating with remarkably good grace, actually smiling a little at Nathan’s last line. Nathan’s temper began to fray at the obvious insolence. It wasn’t just all the hunters’ attitudes in general about Peter that had bent Nathan out of shape, though their thinly veiled contempt at running down the senator’s brother like a dog was fairly obvious. It was Peter’s continued silence and blatant resistance in the face of everything Nathan was trying to accomplish that had him so on edge.
Nathan hadn’t been able to speak to him since before Peter had been captured and escaped the first time. He’d never been able to truly explain things to Peter, or make him understand, and by now the frustration of breaking off with his brother was as much a part of his obsession as Peter being a fugitive. He would have given anything, broken anyone to get Peter back. Taub was just going to have to pay the price for setting Nathan off at the worst possible time.
“Why haven’t you found him yet?” Nathan demanded, taking a step so he could spit his demand right into Taub’s face.
Taub looked down at him and smirked. Something about it made Nathan’s blood run cold, and he began to wonder if he’d made a fundamental mistake. He and Danko may have been getting along, but Danko had also made it clear that he’d be just as happy to hunt down specials without Nathan’s “guidance.” This quiet and isolated office could easily become a killing ground.
“Because you haven’t made it worth my while,” Taub said. But it wasn’t Taub’s voice. It was deeper, raspier, and Nathan didn’t recognize it until Taub’s face shifted and writhed, his bones and muscles snapping and reforming until the shift was completed.
It was Sylar.
He made a short gesture with one hand, and Nathan was shoved away from him. Not to be slammed into a wall, but enough to provide a respectful conversational distance. It took Nathan a moment to realize he wasn’t dead.
“Worth your while,” Nathan repeated, his voice expressionless. He was too surprised to even be frightened.
“Peter’s the last one on the list. The white whale,” Sylar said, the smirk on his face looking even more unbearably smug than it had on Taub’s. “Everyone wants him. But when we get him… well. Forget all those other specials out there. Forget all those dozens of people with abilities in hiding. Once you reach a goal, you stop striving for anything more. Think about it, Senator. I’m doing you a favor.” Sylar made Nathan’s title into a mockery, and anger began to burn through the surprise.
“A favor? By feeding you?” Nathan snapped. He would have said more, but invisible pressure along his jaw shut his mouth. Nathan struggled, his limbs twitching against an unseen hold, his mouth straining against Sylar’s telekinetic grip, but he couldn’t get free enough to speak.
“Yes. I make you and Danko look good. But, if you have a different idea…” Sylar trailed off and let Nathan’s mouth free.
He didn’t talk immediately, not wanting to give Sylar the satisfaction. The whole dynamic had shifted the instant Sylar had revealed himself. Nathan’s priorities had gone from finding Peter to walking out of this office alive.
“Do you still want Peter?” Sylar asked, tilting his head curiously.
“Yes,” Nathan said immediately, the answer so automatic he didn’t think to censor it.
“Why? And tell me the truth,” Sylar said, his tone a chastisement, like a stern teacher.
Nathan wondered if Sylar was telepathic now. He’d lost track of how many specials had been brought in, and he certainly wasn’t aware of all of their abilities. There was no telling what powers he might have acquired.
Sylar smirked again and shook his head slightly, as if he’d been following Nathan’s line of thought. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m not going to kill him.”
“You wouldn’t. You have too much fun chasing him,” Nathan said positively. Sylar wouldn’t have strung this along for so much time unless he was getting something out of it other than just powers. God knew Sylar had reason to kill Peter, what with all their history between them, so something else must have happened.
Sylar stepped closer, deliberately breaking into Nathan’s space, close enough to smell him and feel the warmth of his body. The hairs on the back of Nathan’s neck stood up, not entirely with fear. He was being toyed with, but if Sylar had wanted him dead, for any reason, he could have done it long before now. There were different needs at play here, for both of them.
“I’d give up the chase, but I’ll need something in return,” Sylar whispered right in Nathan’s ear. The telekinetic grip dropped suddenly, and Nathan staggered at the loss of support.
Nathan didn’t bother to ask what Sylar wanted, and flushed with anger at Sylar’s glittering, avaricious gaze. It wasn’t the proposition that bothered him that much; as a politician he was used to whoring himself out on a regular basis. It just wasn’t always so… physical. And rarely had Nathan ever been in the position of supplicant.
“Well? How badly do you want your brother in your private custody?” Sylar taunted.
Red broke across Nathan’s vision at the implication and he lunged at Sylar, only to find himself back in an implacable telekinetic grip.
“Good answer,” Sylar said thoughtfully. The grip dropped, and the moment’s respite had given Nathan just enough self-control to keep his hands from rising up and trying to throttle Sylar.
“Very good,” Sylar repeated. “Now… You know what to do.”
Nathan jerked his head in the negative, and Sylar sighed in obvious exasperation.
“Let me make this easy. I know where Peter is. I will get him and bring him back here for you. But I won’t do it until I’ve gotten some recompense for being treated like your and Danko’s personal punching bag. Kneel,” Sylar said, reinforcing his command with pressure on Nathan’s shoulders and legs.
Telekinetic pressure stopped Nathan from talking or moving, but it didn’t stop him from flushing red with furious embarrassment as Sylar deliberately took a step forward, pressing his arousal into Nathan’s face, the heat obvious even through the layers of cloth. It was like he was being marked, like a dog staking its territorial claim, and Nathan couldn’t even turn his face away in disgust.
Smiling at Nathan’s discomfort, Sylar squatted in front of him, regarding him with a curious tilt of his head. Reaching out, Sylar deliberately mussed Nathan’s hair, jerked his tie loose, undid a few buttons on his shirt and loosened his pants and belt. Nathan felt cheap, like an incautious and flagrant dilettante after a casual roll in the hay, so wanton he didn’t even bother to straighten himself before rejoining the civilized world.
“Better,” Sylar said, sounding satisfied. He stood again, undoing his own belt and freeing his cock practically in Nathan’s face, letting it slap against his cheek. It felt like it was burning Nathan’s skin, and the heavy, musky scent of it overwhelmed his nostrils. Pulling back a bit, Sylar pressed the tip against Nathan’s lips, releasing the telekinetic pressure as he did.
“You know better than to bite,” Sylar warned, and Nathan opened his mouth to accept Sylar’s girth, face burning with shame. His jaw stretched as Sylar pushed his way in, and Nathan merely concentrated on trying to get enough air through every deep, choking thrust.
Then Sylar chuckled, and Nathan felt invisible fingers begin to take control of his tongue, mouth, and throat. Sickeningly, Nathan felt himself begin to lap and slurp at Sylar with a passion he in no way felt, head bobbing to slide Sylar down his throat like a professional whore. After a few moments, the telekinetic pressure disappeared, and Nathan kept himself passive, damned if he were going to perform to Sylar’s specifications.
“Come on now, Nathan. You’re not being very convincing.” Nathan was locked in place as Sylar pressed himself in to the hilt, blocking Nathan’s air for an agonizingly long minute before moving away again. “You’re supposed to be persuading me to do you a favor.”
Nathan wanted to shake his head no, but Sylar held him still, so he could only glare his hatred.
Sylar tsked and looked mock-sad. “Well, if I can get better treatment from Peter, then there’s no reason to bring him in for you. You certainly don’t deserve that talented mouth of his.” Sylar pulled out of Nathan’s mouth with a wet pop, shaking his head in ostentatious regret. “I suppose you’ll just have to live secure in the knowledge that your little brother can persuade me far better than you.”
The anger Nathan had been feeling flared again, along with a confusing mingle of shame and competitiveness. Sylar’s taunts were just that, a way to try to get a reaction out of him, to make him say or do something that would give Sylar an edge. Normally Nathan wouldn’t have let such insults touch him, but the implication, the bare suggestion that Peter’s continued freedom hinged on his ability to keep Sylar satisfied had Nathan quickly moving past anger, into a focused clarity that held only a single thought: Sylar would never touch his brother again.
Nathan burned with shame but didn’t let that stop him as he dropped his façade of ignorance. Sylar pushed at him again, giving him one last option to refuse, and this time Nathan put every ounce of skill to work, moving lips, tongue, throat, and head in perfect concert. He took Sylar deep and held him there before drawing back to tease and arouse anew, gut curdling with disgust as Sylar moaned softly in appreciation.
“Very… nice. It’s clear… where Peter… learned…” Sylar said, stretching out his words around Nathan’s slurps.
Nathan’s face was practically on fire, and he felt faint, a roaring in his ears preceding nearly passing out from shame. Sylar must have been watching him, and became even more embarrassingly vocal, deliberately adding to Nathan’s humiliation.
“So practiced at this… So good… Slut for it, like Peter… Yeah…”
Nathan drove himself hard, desperate to end this quickly, only to gasp in shock as Sylar pulled away from him. He didn’t have any more warning than that before Sylar’s telekinetic grip firmed on his body, holding him in place as Sylar let stripes of come fly across his face and hair. Nathan closed his eyes, the sound of blood rushing in his ears almost deafening as the hot spunk began to drip slightly down his face. Then the telekinetic hold was gone, and Nathan caught himself, panting on all fours, shivering with revulsion.
He heard Sylar zip himself up and walk around Nathan to get to the door, pausing to appreciate the view of Nathan on all fours.
“I’ll be back soon. Then we’re going to have a family reunion. And that’s something I’m dying to see,” Sylar said, avaricious glee in his voice.
Sylar’s footsteps faded down the quiet corridor as Nathan pushed himself up on his knees, hands shaking as the rubbed the spunk off his face. Nausea crested, and Nathan grabbed for the trashcan, emptying his stomach of every memory of Sylar’s taste and selfish demands. It took a long time for his equilibrium to return, until Nathan could finally stagger to the nearest restroom to set himself to rights with water, soap, and the knowledge that Peter would soon be back.
Yes, he couldn’t wait to see Peter either. He was dying for it, desperate to hear from Peter’s own lips how he’d betrayed him. For making him give away the one thing Nathan had promised he’d never give anyone other than Peter.
--END--
Prompt used:
3. Sylar/Nathan: AU. After the Building 26 operation is almost a complete success, Peter has eluded capture. Nathan convinces Sylar to help him track down his brother, and Nathan has to trade his dignity to get it. No matter what, Nathan is not to die, okay? Dark and angsty is preferred.