Fic: I Warned You
Title: I Warned You
Author: Liritar
Pairing: Nathan/Mohinder
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Nathan objects to Mohinder’s choice of clothing.
A/N: Written for the rare_heroes bondage challenge.
The first thing I noticed when I awoke was the headache. That and the fact that the last thing I remembered was shutting the door of the apartment behind me suggested that I had not fallen asleep naturally. The second thing I noticed, when I tried to move, was that my hands were restrained at an awkward angle over my head. I cracked my eyes open, peering through the painful glare of the light, and looked up.
A flash of vivid orange met my eyes. I… I had been tied up with my own scarf.
As if in answer of my realization, I suddenly heard movement, then a voice. “I warned you never to wear that thing again.” Oh, yes, that voice. Unmistakable. I twisted my head, straining to get a look at my captor.
“No, I think you told me never to wear the blue one. You hadn’t seen this one before.” I kept my voice steady, hoping that with logic, I could escape. But then, logic had never helped me with his brother, either.
“Then you don’t deserve a warning for it. It’s… hideous, Suresh.” Nathan Petrelli moved into my narrow field of vision, meaning that now, he was right next to the bed on which I’d been bound. There was a slight smile across his lips; not, in all honesty, a reassuring sight.
I instinctively strained against the fabric, trying to escape from whatever this… this madman had in store for me. Ineffectual, of course, but worth the try. I forced my breathing back under control; I could do nothing about my heart rate. Finally, I just had to ask the question that was plaguing me. “Are you completely out of your mind?”
He laughed, his amusement almost condescending. “No, Suresh, I’m entirely sane. Though that scarf,” he added, shaking his head, “is enough to drive a thousand people crazy. You know, I don’t really think you’re learning the lesson here.” He placed a finger on my jaw, ran it down my neck, then across my chest.
It was only then that I realized that I was naked. I jerked away from his touch, eyes wide. I’ll admit it: I panicked. This was no situation for a mild mannered scientist to find himself in. I couldn’t be expected to know what to do. And I am sticking with that viewpoint against all arguments.
Nathan laughed again. “Calm down, Suresh, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just trying to prove a point. Scientific debate. You like that.”
I gasped brokenly, attempting to regain some form of control. “Debate does not involve tying up your opponent and… and… whatever it is you’re going to do.”
“You obviously know little of politics.” Nathan grinned and lowered himself onto the bed beside me. I flinched away. I don’t react well in situations I can’t control.
I suppose it would have been easier if I hadn’t been wishing, secretly, for an excuse to get him into my bed since the first time I’d seen him. I always seem to sabotage my best interests.
This, of course, had not been what I’d had in mind. “Let me go,” I hissed. Not very original, but you’ll have to forgive me under the circumstances.
“No, Mohinder,” he said, and now his voice was sending shivers done my spine. Low, and husky, and surprisingly tender when my name passed his lips. I realized that it was the first time he’d used it instead of my surname. I groaned softly, falling limp from the restraints. It was like the tension just drained out of me, as if Nathan had pierced my soul, creating a channel for everything unnecessary to flow away. Breaking the dam that I had striven so hard to build over the years of my life.
And then his lips were on mine, his suit feeling harsh against my bare skin as he leaned over me. I struggled futilely for a moment, this time trying to get closer to him. “Shh,” he whispered against my lips, his breath warm and teasing. I tried to control myself, with a fair amount of success. Given the difficulty level, I think I have a right to be proud that I managed it. Nathan’s tongue slid into my mouth, slowly exploring all that I was. It seemed to last forever, more than I’d ever expected but not quite enough, wonderful and torturous at one time.
When he stopped, I realized that maybe I should try to start breathing again. I drew in a huge, gasping breath, shuddering with so many emotions and sensations that I couldn’t separate them into any form or coherency. I looked up at Nathan, who was standing, again, beside the bed, carefully taking off his jacket and smoothing the wrinkles from it before laying it over a chair. His tie was soon draped over it, and he turned his back as he began unbuttoning his shirt. That was just… cruel. I let out a whimper, unable to stop myself.
Nathan’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Ah, Mohinder,” he said, the barest hint of a chuckle in his voice, “I don’t think you know what you want.” He moved to my side, shirt half-undone, the casual nature of his appearance somehow doubling his already potent attraction. He bent down until I could feel his breath against my ear. “Do you want me to stop, to leave you alone?”
“No.” It was a groan, low and long, a perfect reaction to the worst possible torture I could think of at the moment. “Please, no. Ah-” I cut myself off, so as not to admit too much. I’d done enough. More than enough.
Then Nathan was kissing me again, hard and rough, claiming me as his in that one brief motion. And I couldn’t resist; it was simple fact. I, as of that moment, belonged to Nathan Petrelli. He could have done anything he wanted with me. The fact that his wishes went along with mine was pure luck on my part.
With quick fingers he finished undressing, his shirt tossed carelessly on the floor in stark contrast to his previous assiduousness. Not that I would complain about that, of course. Haste was good. Anything that would get this finished soon was good. The fact that his pants took very little time to get out of was more than good, it was… exquisite. Perfect.
And that, apparently, was his cue to fling himself on me, lips and hands attacking my face, my neck, my chest in a frenzied display that was extremely efficient at raising my desperation levels to new heights. I was finding it hard to think, to speak, to move. I just melted into his touch and waited for it to end.
Thankfully, the wait was brief, though I was nearly sobbing with need by the time he took me, roughly forcing himself into my body. The pain was intense, but I barely noticed it. I was hardly aware of anything at that point, just the need to feel him inside me. My hands clenched into fists, nails digging into my palms, as he moved, each touch sending me spiraling towards bliss. Each touch branding me as his.
I realized that I was babbling, and was grateful that I’d slipped into my native tongue at some point. Ah, yes, Nathan, please, that I wouldn’t have minded him hearing. Even the yes, more, harder, I could have lived with. It was the other thing that kept spilling from my lips. I love you. I need you. I’m yours.
I closed my eyes and bit down on my treacherous tongue. I couldn’t handle this. I wasn’t ready to admit that I felt anything for him but lust. Lust was easy to deal with. Deeper emotions got in the way. Especially when the man in question was married.
Those thoughts were forced from my mind as Nathan changed his angle, getting deeper inside me, striking harder against that special little bundle of nerves. I cried out, my nails teasing blood from my palms, and arched my hips against him. He thrust again, with even more force, and that was that. I think it might have been the best orgasm of my life, but then, it always seems so when it happens. Memory is a tricky thing. But this, this I knew I would always remember, in perfect detail. His was just instants after mine, and we came down together, him lying across me, panting for breath.
After a moment, too short to my mind, he pulled away and stretched out beside me. A contented sigh left his lips. “Well,” he said, “that was more than I expected.”
“Why? What did you expect?” I’m not sure why I asked, actually, but I felt I needed to say something, and that was all I could come up with.
He chuckled. “Well, the original plan only went up to verbal sparring. I guess I got… carried away.”
“What?” I struggled against the scarf, then scowled. “Are you going to untie me now?”
“No, I don’t think so.” He raised himself on his elbow and gave me that slow, unnerving smile. “Like I said, there was a change in plans.” Then his lips descended on mine, and I shuddered. Despite my exhaustion, I was already responding.
I probably am not going to get out of this room alive.
Author: Liritar
Pairing: Nathan/Mohinder
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Nathan objects to Mohinder’s choice of clothing.
A/N: Written for the rare_heroes bondage challenge.
The first thing I noticed when I awoke was the headache. That and the fact that the last thing I remembered was shutting the door of the apartment behind me suggested that I had not fallen asleep naturally. The second thing I noticed, when I tried to move, was that my hands were restrained at an awkward angle over my head. I cracked my eyes open, peering through the painful glare of the light, and looked up.
A flash of vivid orange met my eyes. I… I had been tied up with my own scarf.
As if in answer of my realization, I suddenly heard movement, then a voice. “I warned you never to wear that thing again.” Oh, yes, that voice. Unmistakable. I twisted my head, straining to get a look at my captor.
“No, I think you told me never to wear the blue one. You hadn’t seen this one before.” I kept my voice steady, hoping that with logic, I could escape. But then, logic had never helped me with his brother, either.
“Then you don’t deserve a warning for it. It’s… hideous, Suresh.” Nathan Petrelli moved into my narrow field of vision, meaning that now, he was right next to the bed on which I’d been bound. There was a slight smile across his lips; not, in all honesty, a reassuring sight.
I instinctively strained against the fabric, trying to escape from whatever this… this madman had in store for me. Ineffectual, of course, but worth the try. I forced my breathing back under control; I could do nothing about my heart rate. Finally, I just had to ask the question that was plaguing me. “Are you completely out of your mind?”
He laughed, his amusement almost condescending. “No, Suresh, I’m entirely sane. Though that scarf,” he added, shaking his head, “is enough to drive a thousand people crazy. You know, I don’t really think you’re learning the lesson here.” He placed a finger on my jaw, ran it down my neck, then across my chest.
It was only then that I realized that I was naked. I jerked away from his touch, eyes wide. I’ll admit it: I panicked. This was no situation for a mild mannered scientist to find himself in. I couldn’t be expected to know what to do. And I am sticking with that viewpoint against all arguments.
Nathan laughed again. “Calm down, Suresh, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just trying to prove a point. Scientific debate. You like that.”
I gasped brokenly, attempting to regain some form of control. “Debate does not involve tying up your opponent and… and… whatever it is you’re going to do.”
“You obviously know little of politics.” Nathan grinned and lowered himself onto the bed beside me. I flinched away. I don’t react well in situations I can’t control.
I suppose it would have been easier if I hadn’t been wishing, secretly, for an excuse to get him into my bed since the first time I’d seen him. I always seem to sabotage my best interests.
This, of course, had not been what I’d had in mind. “Let me go,” I hissed. Not very original, but you’ll have to forgive me under the circumstances.
“No, Mohinder,” he said, and now his voice was sending shivers done my spine. Low, and husky, and surprisingly tender when my name passed his lips. I realized that it was the first time he’d used it instead of my surname. I groaned softly, falling limp from the restraints. It was like the tension just drained out of me, as if Nathan had pierced my soul, creating a channel for everything unnecessary to flow away. Breaking the dam that I had striven so hard to build over the years of my life.
And then his lips were on mine, his suit feeling harsh against my bare skin as he leaned over me. I struggled futilely for a moment, this time trying to get closer to him. “Shh,” he whispered against my lips, his breath warm and teasing. I tried to control myself, with a fair amount of success. Given the difficulty level, I think I have a right to be proud that I managed it. Nathan’s tongue slid into my mouth, slowly exploring all that I was. It seemed to last forever, more than I’d ever expected but not quite enough, wonderful and torturous at one time.
When he stopped, I realized that maybe I should try to start breathing again. I drew in a huge, gasping breath, shuddering with so many emotions and sensations that I couldn’t separate them into any form or coherency. I looked up at Nathan, who was standing, again, beside the bed, carefully taking off his jacket and smoothing the wrinkles from it before laying it over a chair. His tie was soon draped over it, and he turned his back as he began unbuttoning his shirt. That was just… cruel. I let out a whimper, unable to stop myself.
Nathan’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Ah, Mohinder,” he said, the barest hint of a chuckle in his voice, “I don’t think you know what you want.” He moved to my side, shirt half-undone, the casual nature of his appearance somehow doubling his already potent attraction. He bent down until I could feel his breath against my ear. “Do you want me to stop, to leave you alone?”
“No.” It was a groan, low and long, a perfect reaction to the worst possible torture I could think of at the moment. “Please, no. Ah-” I cut myself off, so as not to admit too much. I’d done enough. More than enough.
Then Nathan was kissing me again, hard and rough, claiming me as his in that one brief motion. And I couldn’t resist; it was simple fact. I, as of that moment, belonged to Nathan Petrelli. He could have done anything he wanted with me. The fact that his wishes went along with mine was pure luck on my part.
With quick fingers he finished undressing, his shirt tossed carelessly on the floor in stark contrast to his previous assiduousness. Not that I would complain about that, of course. Haste was good. Anything that would get this finished soon was good. The fact that his pants took very little time to get out of was more than good, it was… exquisite. Perfect.
And that, apparently, was his cue to fling himself on me, lips and hands attacking my face, my neck, my chest in a frenzied display that was extremely efficient at raising my desperation levels to new heights. I was finding it hard to think, to speak, to move. I just melted into his touch and waited for it to end.
Thankfully, the wait was brief, though I was nearly sobbing with need by the time he took me, roughly forcing himself into my body. The pain was intense, but I barely noticed it. I was hardly aware of anything at that point, just the need to feel him inside me. My hands clenched into fists, nails digging into my palms, as he moved, each touch sending me spiraling towards bliss. Each touch branding me as his.
I realized that I was babbling, and was grateful that I’d slipped into my native tongue at some point. Ah, yes, Nathan, please, that I wouldn’t have minded him hearing. Even the yes, more, harder, I could have lived with. It was the other thing that kept spilling from my lips. I love you. I need you. I’m yours.
I closed my eyes and bit down on my treacherous tongue. I couldn’t handle this. I wasn’t ready to admit that I felt anything for him but lust. Lust was easy to deal with. Deeper emotions got in the way. Especially when the man in question was married.
Those thoughts were forced from my mind as Nathan changed his angle, getting deeper inside me, striking harder against that special little bundle of nerves. I cried out, my nails teasing blood from my palms, and arched my hips against him. He thrust again, with even more force, and that was that. I think it might have been the best orgasm of my life, but then, it always seems so when it happens. Memory is a tricky thing. But this, this I knew I would always remember, in perfect detail. His was just instants after mine, and we came down together, him lying across me, panting for breath.
After a moment, too short to my mind, he pulled away and stretched out beside me. A contented sigh left his lips. “Well,” he said, “that was more than I expected.”
“Why? What did you expect?” I’m not sure why I asked, actually, but I felt I needed to say something, and that was all I could come up with.
He chuckled. “Well, the original plan only went up to verbal sparring. I guess I got… carried away.”
“What?” I struggled against the scarf, then scowled. “Are you going to untie me now?”
“No, I don’t think so.” He raised himself on his elbow and gave me that slow, unnerving smile. “Like I said, there was a change in plans.” Then his lips descended on mine, and I shuddered. Despite my exhaustion, I was already responding.
I probably am not going to get out of this room alive.