A Study in Alleys
Title: A Study in Alleys
Author: puckkit
Rating: NC-17 (language, some sexual content)
Pairing/Character: Mohinder/Sylar
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or the show Heroes, therefore all of this is false and made up from my charmingly eccentric imagination.
Author's Notes: This is all mneiai's fault. It's partially AU (although I think, though am not positive, that it can be read as not AU) and there will probably be more of this 'verse. For now, it's just a scene and therefore the plot is basically lacking. Cut-text lyrics from Hawksley Workman's Striptease.
“Mohinder.”
It was in the way he said it; a light drawl as he worked his mouth around the words, infusing desire and power and that raw sexual energy that never seemed far from his lips, his hands.
Mohinder shuddered, eyes closed tight with his back against the brick wall.
“Are you hiding from me, Mohinder?” A light hollow laugh echoed down the alleyway. “You know you can’t hide from me. I can hear every breath, every heartbeat, every drop of sweat trailing down your spine.” A calculated pause. “I can practically taste you.”
It was near pitch darkness, a muffled glow filtering in from either end of the alley, diluted by the fog and leaving only enough light that Mohinder could make out vague shadows and pools of rainwater from earlier. The air felt humid and heavy, thick and clogging to his senses. He needed an escape.
“Would you like that, Mohinder? Would you like me to taste you?” Closer, too close.
There was an assortment of garbage cans and bags between them but they wouldn’t do much good. Mohinder considered carefully, hoping his thoughts weren’t so loud as to be picked up by Sylar’s hearing. They certainly felt loud enough, clanging around his skull uselessly as he tried to be precise and efficient with his plans.
He moved his leg a fraction of an inch and Sylar was there, suddenly and irrepressibly forcing his way into Mohinder’s personal space.
“Mmm,” he chuckled, the whites of his eyes gleaming unnaturally. “Pleasure seeing you again.”
“I can’t say the same. You’re not going to kill me, we both know it. So why don’t you step away and let me get back to my... research.” It was only the barest of hesitations, but Mohinder kicked himself anyway.
“I could be part of your research, you know.” Damn his voice, smooth as rum and twice as intoxicating. He wasn’t even touching Mohinder, his breath was barely breaching the room between them, but he still felt trapped and knew it wasn’t because of the telekinesis. Mohinder let his eyelids flutter partially closed, calculated pupils hidden under flirtatious eyelashes.
“Mmm you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Sylar blinked, smirk morphing into a toothy grin dripping with pleasure. “Not as much as you would, I think.” His hand reached out and traced the air a scant inch from Mohinder’s face, mapping out his cheekbone and down his neck and chest until it disappeared from Mohinder’s view.
His hand was hot. Scorching, Mohinder corrected mentally with a slight gasp, almost hotter than he himself was feeling, and currently touching a very vulnerable place on his body.
“Yes, you would like that. We could do... research together.”
Mohinder laughed huskily and reached out to run his fingers along the back of Sylar’s occupied hand.
“How about a little harder, you don’t seem the shy type.” His voice caught on the vowels, accenting them softly as he let his intentions creep on to his face.
“Is that a challenge, Mohinder? You know better.”
Mohinder pressed down on their joint hands, letting a moan escape his throat as he tilted his head back against the rough wall, the coldness seeping through his clothes. “I’m not sure I do. You’d better show me.”
Sylar leaned closer, nose barely touching his neck, and lifted his free arm to press against the wall above Mohinder’s head before leaning on it casually. “I could show you more than that, Professor. Do you want it? Do you want me? Tell me how much you want me.” The zipper opened with a snick, and Sylar’s hand confidently pushed its way through the fabric layers, setting up a steady, if dry, rhythm.
Mohinder let a brief victorious smile work its way past his initial wince. “I want you, Sylar.”
Sylar’s voice grew rougher, tinged with a lack of control. “I can make you want me even more. You’ll be begging for it, for me. I want to fuck you, Mohinder. I want to taste you. I want to swallow your screams. Will you scream for me, Mohinder?”
“Only if you’re good.”
Sylar chuckled throatily, breathing hot into his ear, letting his body lean ever so slightly against the other man. “That will not be a problem.”
Abruptly, his rhythm faltered and he looked up at some silent noise. Mohinder glanced towards the end of the alley where Sylar was looking, curious. “So weak,” Sylar murmured to himself, pulling his hand away from Mohinder. “You’re so weak, but I could make you strong. With me, you could be strong.”
Clear footsteps could now be heard, clacking against the pavement and splashing in puddles, coming closer without trepidation.
“And who might you be. A power I’ve met, no... a challenge. You need me.” He was completely captured by the siren song of a broken part, such a powerful force that pulled at his focus and refused to let him look away. Unconsciously he headed towards it before the sound of a car pulled up, a door opened, soft voices spoke before the door closed again, and the vehicle sped off with a squeal.
Shaken from his trance, Sylar looked around and found he was alone. He grimaced, biting his lip- considering, listening.
“Next time,” he smiled.
A block away Mohinder’s laugh rang out softly, dissipating into the foggy night.
Author: puckkit
Rating: NC-17 (language, some sexual content)
Pairing/Character: Mohinder/Sylar
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or the show Heroes, therefore all of this is false and made up from my charmingly eccentric imagination.
Author's Notes: This is all mneiai's fault. It's partially AU (although I think, though am not positive, that it can be read as not AU) and there will probably be more of this 'verse. For now, it's just a scene and therefore the plot is basically lacking. Cut-text lyrics from Hawksley Workman's Striptease.
“Mohinder.”
It was in the way he said it; a light drawl as he worked his mouth around the words, infusing desire and power and that raw sexual energy that never seemed far from his lips, his hands.
Mohinder shuddered, eyes closed tight with his back against the brick wall.
“Are you hiding from me, Mohinder?” A light hollow laugh echoed down the alleyway. “You know you can’t hide from me. I can hear every breath, every heartbeat, every drop of sweat trailing down your spine.” A calculated pause. “I can practically taste you.”
It was near pitch darkness, a muffled glow filtering in from either end of the alley, diluted by the fog and leaving only enough light that Mohinder could make out vague shadows and pools of rainwater from earlier. The air felt humid and heavy, thick and clogging to his senses. He needed an escape.
“Would you like that, Mohinder? Would you like me to taste you?” Closer, too close.
There was an assortment of garbage cans and bags between them but they wouldn’t do much good. Mohinder considered carefully, hoping his thoughts weren’t so loud as to be picked up by Sylar’s hearing. They certainly felt loud enough, clanging around his skull uselessly as he tried to be precise and efficient with his plans.
He moved his leg a fraction of an inch and Sylar was there, suddenly and irrepressibly forcing his way into Mohinder’s personal space.
“Mmm,” he chuckled, the whites of his eyes gleaming unnaturally. “Pleasure seeing you again.”
“I can’t say the same. You’re not going to kill me, we both know it. So why don’t you step away and let me get back to my... research.” It was only the barest of hesitations, but Mohinder kicked himself anyway.
“I could be part of your research, you know.” Damn his voice, smooth as rum and twice as intoxicating. He wasn’t even touching Mohinder, his breath was barely breaching the room between them, but he still felt trapped and knew it wasn’t because of the telekinesis. Mohinder let his eyelids flutter partially closed, calculated pupils hidden under flirtatious eyelashes.
“Mmm you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Sylar blinked, smirk morphing into a toothy grin dripping with pleasure. “Not as much as you would, I think.” His hand reached out and traced the air a scant inch from Mohinder’s face, mapping out his cheekbone and down his neck and chest until it disappeared from Mohinder’s view.
His hand was hot. Scorching, Mohinder corrected mentally with a slight gasp, almost hotter than he himself was feeling, and currently touching a very vulnerable place on his body.
“Yes, you would like that. We could do... research together.”
Mohinder laughed huskily and reached out to run his fingers along the back of Sylar’s occupied hand.
“How about a little harder, you don’t seem the shy type.” His voice caught on the vowels, accenting them softly as he let his intentions creep on to his face.
“Is that a challenge, Mohinder? You know better.”
Mohinder pressed down on their joint hands, letting a moan escape his throat as he tilted his head back against the rough wall, the coldness seeping through his clothes. “I’m not sure I do. You’d better show me.”
Sylar leaned closer, nose barely touching his neck, and lifted his free arm to press against the wall above Mohinder’s head before leaning on it casually. “I could show you more than that, Professor. Do you want it? Do you want me? Tell me how much you want me.” The zipper opened with a snick, and Sylar’s hand confidently pushed its way through the fabric layers, setting up a steady, if dry, rhythm.
Mohinder let a brief victorious smile work its way past his initial wince. “I want you, Sylar.”
Sylar’s voice grew rougher, tinged with a lack of control. “I can make you want me even more. You’ll be begging for it, for me. I want to fuck you, Mohinder. I want to taste you. I want to swallow your screams. Will you scream for me, Mohinder?”
“Only if you’re good.”
Sylar chuckled throatily, breathing hot into his ear, letting his body lean ever so slightly against the other man. “That will not be a problem.”
Abruptly, his rhythm faltered and he looked up at some silent noise. Mohinder glanced towards the end of the alley where Sylar was looking, curious. “So weak,” Sylar murmured to himself, pulling his hand away from Mohinder. “You’re so weak, but I could make you strong. With me, you could be strong.”
Clear footsteps could now be heard, clacking against the pavement and splashing in puddles, coming closer without trepidation.
“And who might you be. A power I’ve met, no... a challenge. You need me.” He was completely captured by the siren song of a broken part, such a powerful force that pulled at his focus and refused to let him look away. Unconsciously he headed towards it before the sound of a car pulled up, a door opened, soft voices spoke before the door closed again, and the vehicle sped off with a squeal.
Shaken from his trance, Sylar looked around and found he was alone. He grimaced, biting his lip- considering, listening.
“Next time,” he smiled.
A block away Mohinder’s laugh rang out softly, dissipating into the foggy night.