Was attacked by a rabid plot bunny: behold it's unholy...ness
Title: Muse
Author: Dark-Dreymer
Pairing: Isaac/Bennet (The morally gray whoring continues)
Warnings: CRACK OVERLOAD
Rating: R
Spoilers: Based on a scene in episode 8, maybe a few for episode 9
Word Count: 911 (911 number for the special services in America, totally din't intend fot that to happen, but weird it did. Perhaps it means you'll need an ambulance due to going into a seizure, either from laughter or disgust.)
Summary: Bennet needs Isaac’s help, but Isaac can’t paint when he’s clean. When Isaac refuses the drugs there’s only one way to get him to paint.
Comments: I love comments: Feed the review whore!
“You see this girl, the one you’ve painted here.” Bennet indicated the cheerleader in the first painting, “…and here.” The second painting, “…she’s my daughter.”
Bennet’s facial features didn’t change, but his eyes betrayed his feelings, they pleaded with Isaac they desperately searched for help.
“This man.” Bennet was looking at the shadow in the final painting, “He’s called Sylar. He’s going to kill her tomorrow at her Homecoming game. I need you to paint a picture for me so that we can catch him.”
Isaac lowered his gaze, he was about to disappoint this man and he couldn’t watch that.
“I can’t do it. Not clean.” He said eyes focused on the floor.
“Very well then.”
Isaac glanced up, Bennet was preparing a needle.
“I just got clean, now you want me to shoot up.” Isaac’s voice was full of anger.
“I need to you paint. After you’ve done it we can help you learn to paint clean, but right now I need that painting and I’ll do anything to make sure you do it.”
“I won’t.” Isaac stubbornly refused.
Bennet slammed the needle to the desktop.
“If there’s another way tell me, otherwise you’re going to do what I say.” Bennet commanded.
“There is…” Isaac stopped short.
“What?” Hope flooded Bennet’s features.
“It’s just… it only happened once but…”
“Tell me.” Bennet was commanding again, but it was understandable.
“One time, after I’d…fucked Simone.” Isaac whispered the word; Bennet seemed to dislike the term but didn’t stop Isaac from speaking “Well afterwards, I painted a picture of the eclipse. It wasn’t important but I don’t remember painting it… and it did happen.”
Bennet stopped, his face was impossible to read. “If it’ll help.”
The man started towards the door, Isaac assumed he was going to find Eden but the man simply locked the door and shut the blinds.
“Drop your pants.” Bennet said turning back to face Isaac.
“What?” Disbelief was strong in Isaac’s voice.
“Drop. Your. Pants.” Bennet put emphasis on each word.
“I’m not letting you fuck me.” Isaac said.
Bennet strode over pulled the man to his feet and placed a hand at is crotch.
“Either you let me do this, or you shoot up. Your choice.” Bennet’s voice was subtly threatening, the hand at Isaac’s crotch much more obviously threatening.
“Why can’t Eden…?” Isaac stopped short as Bennet squeezed gently enough to cause slight pain.
“There’s no third option. Choose.” Bennet’s eyes were fixed on Isaac’s.
“I’m not letting you fuck me…” Isaac said and Bennet released his grip and turned away, “But you can blow me if it’ll work.”
“You’re sure?” Bennet asked.
“No third option; right?” Isaac mimicked Bennet’s words and lowering his pants.
Bennet sank to his knees in front of the artist and began to slowly pump at Isaac’s cock, slowly feeling it harden beneath his grip.
Isaac had his eyes shut and was trying hard to imagine it was Simone, but Bennet’s hands were much too large and firm. In the end Isaac simply gave over to the feeling and forgot about trying to enjoy the experience, that was until Bennet’s mouth swallowed his cock in one swift movement.
Simone was good at oral sex, but Bennet was amazing. Isaac finally started to enjoy the sensation of his cock repetitively being rammed into Bennet’s warm mouth, feeling the head of his cock nuzzled in Bennet’s throat. Did this man have a gag reflex?
Isaac still had his eyes closed, though now from pleasure. His mouth was open and was opening and shutting as he silently gasped. His hands were in his hair, with Simone they would be buried in her hair, but that seemed inappropriate with Bennet.
He reached his point of orgasm and let out a reasonably loud moan; the first noise that was not below human levels of hearing.
Bennet let Isaac’s cock slip from between his lips and stared up at the man; as Isaac opened his eyes Bennet was glad to see the white coloring that meant he had successfully entered a trance-like state.
Isaac stumbled over to where his painting supplies were lying around, not even bothering to pull up his pants. Noah walked over and pulled them up for him while the artist drew the first few lines of his latest precognitive painting.
“Thank you Isaac.” Bennet whispered placing a quick chaste kiss on Isaac’s cheek, knowing full well that the man wouldn’t remember.
Dusting down his suit Bennet turned and left the man to his painting. Entering the office Bennet found Eden waiting.
“He’s painting now.” Bennet said pouring himself a cup of relatively warm coffee.
“Did he shoot up?” Eden asked, her voice held a small amount of concern in it.
“No.” Bennet said, Eden was too deeply attached to this man; it wouldn’t be good.
“Then how?” Eden seemed confused.
“You don’t need to know.” Bennet turned to leave sipping at his coffee.
“I could make you tell me.” Eden said, her voice held that strange quality it always did when she discussed her powers.
“You could.” Bennet said thinking out loud, “But then you’d have to go see the Haitian to get rid of the nightmares.”
It didn’t indicate anything: he could’ve meant violence, torture, blackmail: definitely not oral sex. She’d never guess.
And yet as he left still nursing the cup of coffee Eden gave an involuntary shudder and decided to stop asking questions about her boss’s personal life.