(no subject)
Title: Wedding
Rating: R for language
Word count: 629
Warning: Mention of character death, crack!fic
Written for
medoroa's entry in the Stick Figure Challenge at
mylar_fic
*Knock knock*
Mohinder sighed, running a conscientious hand through his raven curls,
tugging at them in dismay. He'd spent the better half of his prep time
trying to revive his bedhead, to no avail. Pity, the slept-in look was so in
right now...
"What is it *now*? You *do* know it's bad luck for me to see you even once,
right? Let alone four times."
There was a disgusted sigh from behind him. "I still don't see why *I* have
to be the bride."
Hands on his hips, Mohinder glared at him in the mirror. "We've been through
this. I could only be a bride if my father were here to walk me down the
isle. Which, thanks to *somebody*..."
Sylar gaped, jabbing an accusatory finger in Mohinder's direction. "Hey!
That's not fair. I *said* I would use the re-animation ability!"
"Yes, because it's every girl's dream to have her father's living corpse
give her away. Ugh." He squinted in the mirror, wiping an imaginary spec
of lint off his lapel. "He'd get zombie juice all over my tux. Speaking of
which..."
Mohinder struck a pose, shooting his best dazzling grin Sylar's way. "How do
you like my outfit? I was going for cool, yet casual. Classic, yet chic.
Edgy, yet traditional. What do you think?"
"I think you look like the demented offspring of a drag queen and a rodeo
clown." Sylar deadpanned.
Mohinder sniffed, plucking at his purple-striped taffeta shirt. "You're just
jealous because you look fat in that sari."
"Fuck you," Sylar growled, and then gazed down at his outfit, a frown coming
over his face. "I told you the fucking thing made me look hippy."
Noticing the imminent pout, Mohinder sighed, reluctantly abandoning the
mirror and sashaying over to his glowering bride-to-be. "I'm sorry, sweetie.
Come on, you know I didn't mean it."
"Should've ate your brain when I had the chance." Sylar muttered, nearing a
full-on sulk.
"Yes, well, you did have your mouth rather full at the time..." Mohinder
winked, reaching out and pinching the other man's ass. "Besides, I think you
look delicious in purple."
"Really?" Sylar asked hopefully.
"Totally." Mohinder affirmed, trying for a leer and looking more like he'd
just sucked a lemon. But if past experience was anything to go by, it was
guaranteed to get Sylar hot all the same. And sure enough...
A few minutes later, once their clothing was considerably more rumpled and
Mohinder's bedhead had made its triumphant return, the two pulled apart.
"Oh and by the way," Mohinder said, rather breathlessly, pointing at the two
mangled, blood-drenched bodies outside the door, "don't think we aren't
discussing *that* after the honeymoon."
"What?" Sylar asked petulantly, "you're the one who was saying the wedding
needed more red. And bedsides, they deserved it."
"Oh, really. Do tell."
"They were stealing centerpieces."
Mohinder's eyes narrowed. "Bastards."
There was a shaky knock at the door and both men turned to glare at the
culprit. All too aware of the carnage outside the room, Hiro gulped, pumping
his arms slowly into the air. "Wedding time," he exclaimed weakly, before
turning tail and fleeing.
Sylar looked at Mohinder. "Can I please--"
"No."
"Just a little."
"No."
"Mohinder--"
"You can't keep killing the wedding guests!" Mohinder stamped his foot. "Why
can't you be nice to my friends?"
"I'm nice to Peter."
"Peter's dead."
Sylar shook his head. "Not real Peter. Lizard Peter."
"The lizard's name is Mohinder."
"Oh. Um. What were we talking about again?"
Mohinder rolled his eyes. "Forget about it. Just be on your best behavior
until the reception and then I'll let you pick off one of the little ones or
something."
Sylar grinned. "Sweet."
"Alright!" Mohinder exclaimed, straightening his tie one last time. "Here we
go!"
Title: Tentacle Monster
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 437
Written for
lucalight
Everywhere he looks, there is slime.
Sylar is by no means squeamish, couldn’t possibly be in his line of work, but he does have his limits. And the thick layers of mucus coating the walls, the floor, and the absurdly tentacled creature standing before them are definitely toeing the line. Stepping slightly behind Mohinder, in case the thing has to sneeze or something, he reluctantly decides this is one ability he can do without.
As he does so, he notices something. As Mohinder chatters away to Tony the Human Squid, his heartbeat begins to race. Puzzled, Sylar listens closer. Yep, definitely beating way too fast, but why? It isn’t fear, the look on Mohinder’s face confirms that. Excitement? Would make sense, but no, that isn’t it…
Lust.
Sylar’s head snaps up so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash. Mohinder is blessedly oblivious, still blabbing about control and destiny and codons, but to Sylar’s disbelief, there is the slightest blush rising on his features.
No freaking way, he thinks, looking back and forth between the two. He’s lusting after that? What, does he have some kind of Captain Nemo kink I don’t know about?
But that’s what his heartbeat says, clear as day. Sylar frowns for a moment and then a shark-like grin crosses his features. Okay. I can do kinky.
--
Later that evening…
--
Exhausted and thoroughly disgusted by the slime clinging to his clothes, Sylar strips and piles the foul things in a heap at the foot on the bed. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he is just about to head for a well-deserved shower when he hears a knock at the door.
Sighing in annoyance, he answers it and is promptly met with an armful of Dr. Suresh.
Um, okay, Sylar thinks as the doctor enthusiastically plunders his mouth, warm hands griping him firmly by the shoulders. This is unexpected.
Mohinder pulls back after a minute, a bright smile on his face. “I’ve wanted to do that since I met you. Today, in the shop, you were standing so close I could barely breath I was so turned on…I just had to do something, you know?”
Sylar smiles weakly.
Mohinder takes in his half-dressed state with an appreciative eye. “Taking a shower? Mind if I join you?”
Sylar shakes his head numbly, watching as Mohinder strips off his shirt and heads for the small bathroom.
Granted, having a naked Mohinder was the ultimate goal here, but…
Sylar raises a hand in front of his face, watches as it shifts to a slimy, scaly blue-green tentacle and then back to normal. Sighs.
Fucking hell.