Fic: Again and Again Until Finally (Sylar/Mohinder, NC-17)
Title: Again and Again Until Finally
Rating: NC-17
Words: 2150
Characters: Sylar/Mohinder
Warnings: Explicit sex, with a dash of dub-con/bondage.
Spoilers: Vaguely for the whole series
Disclaimer: Not my characters, not writing this for profit.
A/N: This is written for the
mission_insane challenge, table/prompt: Quotes / "We Are What We Repeatedly Do" - Aristotle (full prompt table here). At least, I started with that prompt. Then
nothingtosay demanded pr0n, and my brain apparently liked the idea of going XXX, and I think I ended up with something slightly different from what the philosopher envisioned.
Summary: There's a half-hearted attempt at some future AU backstory here, but, seriously, people - this is just plain old smut, along with the two of them struggling for mental control. Mohinder makes the mistake of giving Sylar an opening when he's in no position to fight back, and Sylar takes full advantage of it (not that Mohinder really wants to fight back).
The voices around Mohinder were unintelligible. He blinked. There was cloth covering his face. He tried to pull it off and it was only after several failed attempts that he realized he couldn’t because his hands were bound behind his back. He lifted his head groggily for a few seconds and then let it drop. He heard a rather painful-sounding thunk as he did so, but he didn’t feel anything.
Drugged, then.
He couldn’t think put together any thoughts more coherent than that.
He had no idea how long he lay there, drifting in and out of himself. He could only tell that time had passed by the way the voices would abruptly shift in position around him.
Hands grasped his arms roughly and pulled him to his feet. His legs wouldn’t cooperate. He sagged forward against the person holding him as the hood was pulled from his head.
“Mohinder? What the hell?”
His hair was pulled roughly back and he tried to answer but couldn’t. His head lolled forward again and came to rest against soft fabric. Then there was a pressure on his neck that gradually spread throughout his body.
Suddenly he was wide awake again. He opened his eyes and realized he was leaning on someone’s shoulder.
Sylar’s.
He stiffened reflexively, but the angry look that he was all too familiar with was mixed with concern.
“Mohinder, what are you doing here? The last I heard, you were in Berlin.”
“The last time I looked, that’s where I was.”
Sylar scowled. “I’m glad to see that Pete did his usual thorough check of the grounds before we came in. If I hadn’t decided to take a look around first...” He touched underneath Mohinder’s jaw, and once again Mohinder tensed, before realizing that Sylar was feeling his pulse.
“Feel better now?”
Mohinder hesitated before saying, “What did you do to me? Whatever I was on -”
“The sedative?” Sylar shrugged. “I leached it out of your blood. I’m not a chemist, so I’m not sure what it was, but it was easy to identify and separate out.”
“How?” Mohinder asked incredulously.
Sylar smiled lightly, looking incredibly self-satisfied. “Just something I picked up while traveling.”
Mohinder looked away uncomfortably at the thought of how he would have picked it up. As he did, he realized three things. The first was that Sylar’s arm was around his waist. The second was that it felt better than he'd ever imagined - and he didn't like admitting to himself how often he'd imagined it.
The third was that his hands were still bound behind his back.
“They must be closer on our trail than we realized,” Sylar was musing to himself. “And if they could kidnap you from right under everyone’s noses and get you to Albania this quickly -”
“You can let go of me now,” Mohinder interrupted.
Sylar looked startled for a moment before smiling again. “I’m just holding you up. In case you’ve forgotten, you were fairly unsteady on your feet a minute ago.”
“I think I’m recovered now,” Mohinder said carefully.
Sylar kept smiling, tilting his head as he looked down at him. “Does it bother you?” he asked teasingly. His arm tightened, pulling Mohinder against him more strongly. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Does it really bother you to have me this close to you? Touching you? Holding you? You really want me to stop?”
‘Yes’ never made it over Mohinder’s tongue. He tried to look away but his gaze was caught on Sylar’s lips. Sylar’s arm shifted around him, almost nervously. He glanced back up, his own lips parted.
Sylar’s face had gone serious. He stared at Mohinder for a long moment, as if this wasn’t the reaction he’d expected to get. Then he closed his eyes and kissed him.
Mohinder didn’t pull away as Sylar let his mouth linger. When Sylar’s tongue caressed the inside of his lips, he opened them further without thinking. By the time he reminded himself that he wasn’t supposed to want this, it was too late.
Sylar pushed against him. He took one step backwards, two, and then started to stumble before suddenly slamming against a wall. He gasped as their teeth grated together.
Sylar pulled away, but only so he could kiss the edge of his jaw. Mohinder stared wildly up over Sylar’s shoulder. He’d told himself so many times that he wouldn’t let this happen - he couldn’t let this happen -
“I...”
Sylar raised his head. His hand tightened on Mohinder’s bicep till it hurt. A threat. “What is it?”
Mohinder glanced around the room they were in. It was large and vaguely industrial and he somehow had a feeling that it wasn’t the same one he’d been in earlier. He strained his ears, hoping to catch an indication that someone else was within earshot, Peter, Nathan, Matt, even his captors - anyone who might stop this from happening.
“What if someone saw us?” he suddenly heard himself saying. It wasn’t what he’d meant to say, at all.
“There’s no one else around,” Sylar said softly.
He realized it wasn’t a threat. It was an invitation.
Then Sylar’s lips were trailing across his throat, moving as carefully as the fingers that were undoing his shirt buttons. Mohinder tried to raise his arms without thinking and was brought up short by his bonds. Sylar ignored his movement and continued kissing his chest and down his stomach, breath coming hot through Mohinder’s undershirt, until finally Sylar was on his knees and Mohinder could hardly breathe with the thought of what was going to happen next.
Sylar unzipped him and glanced up at him before leaning forward. Mohinder closed his eyes as Sylar’s tongue flicked against his navel. He felt Sylar pull his waistband out and down, and shivered as his cock brushed against the stubble on Sylar’s chin. Sylar pulled his clothing down towards his knees and then cupped his ass with warm hands, urging him forward until he was leaning over Sylar rather than back against the wall. He drew in a deep breath.
One of the things that he kept buried as deeply as possible, praying that no telepath would ever pick up, was the realization that the more time he spent around this man, the more he thought about this happening. The more he wanted this to happen, no matter how wrong it was. But he could honestly say that he’d never imagined it happening like this.
“Mohinder. Look at me.”
The sight of Sylar kneeling in front of him, eyes huge in the pale light, lips wet and parted, actually there instead of just being a figment of his imagination...God.
“Do you want me, Mohinder?”
Mohinder snorted and looked around the otherwise silent room. “What if I said no?”
Sylar turned his head and ran his lips gently across Mohinder’s erection. “I don’t think I’d believe you,” he murmured as Mohinder bit his tongue to try to keep quiet. He glanced up again. “But I can always stop, if that’s what you really want.” His hands ran teasingly down the back of Mohinder’s thighs, and then back up again. “Is it?”
Mohinder laughed bitterly again. “Does it really matter what I want?”
“Yes,” said Sylar, sounding slightly surprised. He pressed his lips to the edge of Mohinder’s thigh, just above where his hair started. “It matters. A lot.”
“Don’t stop,” Mohinder finally whispered.
Sylar licked the head of his cock before sliding his mouth down it and sucking, gently at first but then with surprising vigor. One of his hands slid over Mohinder’s - not pinning him down, but caressing his wrists over top of the thin rope that bound them together.
Mohinder turned his head and moaned softly. As good as it felt, it suddenly wasn’t enough. He wanted his hands free, wanted to touch Sylar’s lips as they slid up and down him, wanted to grip his hair and tilt his head back and fuck his mouth. God, he wanted to be entirely naked, to know what it felt like to have his body entwined with Sylar’s, to know what it felt like to have Sylar’s bare cock in his hand, in his mouth, to have Sylar bent over in front of him and begging for it as he buried himself inside.
Sylar suddenly stopped. As Mohinder gasped a protest, he stood, hands on Mohinder’s hips, and kissed him. Mohinder returned it violently and ground against him. He was so close... Sylar looked down at him, barely touching him any more, almost like he was expecting something.
“Why are you doing this?” Mohinder demanded.
Sylar smiled against his lips. “Because I want you to remember how badly you wanted this, Mohinder. I want you to think about how this felt every time you jerk yourself off in the shower.”
Mohinder’s eyes widened and Sylar chuckled. “I’ve watched you do that so many times over the last few months. Funny how often you do it after we meet, isn’t it? Pete goes off to polish his pure-hearted dreams for saving the world, and you come home and do...that.” He suddenly buried his face against Mohinder’s neck. “You look so beautiful when you’re doing it, Mohinder. The way you close your eyes just before you finish. The way the water washes your come down over your fingers. It makes me want to touch you.” He raised his head. “Would you like that? If I were there, touching you?”
Mohinder shook his head, torn between fury and need. “Wait. You...you...you’ve been stalking me?”
Sylar rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t say ‘stalking’. Maybe...‘taking a personal interest’.” He paused. “The first time I followed you home, I wanted to see if you could be trusted. I didn’t particularly enjoy having you kick in my door to make demands of me. I just wanted to see if you called anyone to report on what you’d done. When I realized what you were doing...” His hands tightened on Mohinder. “Who do you think about when you’re doing it?”
Mohinder couldn’t speak.
“I think about you,” Sylar confessed. He suddenly looked down. “When I can’t sleep at night, I imagine you. What you’d taste like. Ever since the day I met you...” His voice trailed off for a moment. “Tell me it’s me, Mohinder. Tell me I’m the one you think about.”
Mohinder was paralyzed. He’d fantasized about this so many times - but some things one fantasizes about because one doesn’t think they’ll ever come true.
Then he caught Sylar’s lips with his own, and Sylar wrapped his arms around him. He could feel how hard Sylar was under the fabric of his jeans and he thought, Untie me, untie me, for God’s sake, please let me touch you...
When Sylar pulled back from him this time, he realized that the light was different. He looked up - they were back in his apartment. He gave Sylar a bewildered look. “How -”
Sylar grinned wryly. “That’s one trick you didn’t know I could do, isn’t it? I hate to tip you off to it, but I couldn’t very well leave you alone back there.”
Mohinder shook his head. “Wait a minute. What are - you’re leaving?”
“Believe me, I don’t want to,” Sylar said. “But unfortunately, I can only move through space, not time. Which means that right now, Pete’s holding down the fort by himself, and a crisis is inevitable, so I’ve got to get back there. Business before pleasure...” His hand ghosted up beneath Mohinder’s undershirt and he sighed lightly.
“You’re just going to go off and leave me here like this?” Mohinder said heatedly.
Sylar glanced around. “You’re safe here. And you’re resourceful - I’m sure you can figure out a way to get your hands free. Eventually.”
“You son of a bitch -”
“Shhhh.” Sylar laid a finger against his lips. “I’ll be back. As soon as I finish this little job. Don’t worry.”
Mohinder flushed.
“Just one thing.” He lazily ran his other hand up Mohinder’s aching cock and Mohinder breathed deeply. “Don’t do anything about this before I get back. Promise? Because when I do, the things I’m going to do to you - everything you’ve ever dreamed of. And maybe some things you haven’t. And you’re going to love every moment of it.”
“What, you’re that sure of yourself? You honestly think you’re that amazing?” He had to make one last stand.
“No.” Sylar kissed him, gently but wetly. “I just think it’s time for us to stop thinking about this over and over, and be what we were meant to be.”
The ring of destiny in the words made Mohinder slightly uncomfortable, but at the same time, it somehow felt right. He closed his eyes and kissed Sylar just as gently, and Sylar cupped the back of his head, sliding fingers through his hair.
Then he was gone.
X-posted to
mission_insane and
mylar_fic
Rating: NC-17
Words: 2150
Characters: Sylar/Mohinder
Warnings: Explicit sex, with a dash of dub-con/bondage.
Spoilers: Vaguely for the whole series
Disclaimer: Not my characters, not writing this for profit.
A/N: This is written for the
mission_insane challenge, table/prompt: Quotes / "We Are What We Repeatedly Do" - Aristotle (full prompt table here). At least, I started with that prompt. Then
nothingtosay demanded pr0n, and my brain apparently liked the idea of going XXX, and I think I ended up with something slightly different from what the philosopher envisioned.
Summary: There's a half-hearted attempt at some future AU backstory here, but, seriously, people - this is just plain old smut, along with the two of them struggling for mental control. Mohinder makes the mistake of giving Sylar an opening when he's in no position to fight back, and Sylar takes full advantage of it (not that Mohinder really wants to fight back).
The voices around Mohinder were unintelligible. He blinked. There was cloth covering his face. He tried to pull it off and it was only after several failed attempts that he realized he couldn’t because his hands were bound behind his back. He lifted his head groggily for a few seconds and then let it drop. He heard a rather painful-sounding thunk as he did so, but he didn’t feel anything.
Drugged, then.
He couldn’t think put together any thoughts more coherent than that.
He had no idea how long he lay there, drifting in and out of himself. He could only tell that time had passed by the way the voices would abruptly shift in position around him.
Hands grasped his arms roughly and pulled him to his feet. His legs wouldn’t cooperate. He sagged forward against the person holding him as the hood was pulled from his head.
“Mohinder? What the hell?”
His hair was pulled roughly back and he tried to answer but couldn’t. His head lolled forward again and came to rest against soft fabric. Then there was a pressure on his neck that gradually spread throughout his body.
Suddenly he was wide awake again. He opened his eyes and realized he was leaning on someone’s shoulder.
Sylar’s.
He stiffened reflexively, but the angry look that he was all too familiar with was mixed with concern.
“Mohinder, what are you doing here? The last I heard, you were in Berlin.”
“The last time I looked, that’s where I was.”
Sylar scowled. “I’m glad to see that Pete did his usual thorough check of the grounds before we came in. If I hadn’t decided to take a look around first...” He touched underneath Mohinder’s jaw, and once again Mohinder tensed, before realizing that Sylar was feeling his pulse.
“Feel better now?”
Mohinder hesitated before saying, “What did you do to me? Whatever I was on -”
“The sedative?” Sylar shrugged. “I leached it out of your blood. I’m not a chemist, so I’m not sure what it was, but it was easy to identify and separate out.”
“How?” Mohinder asked incredulously.
Sylar smiled lightly, looking incredibly self-satisfied. “Just something I picked up while traveling.”
Mohinder looked away uncomfortably at the thought of how he would have picked it up. As he did, he realized three things. The first was that Sylar’s arm was around his waist. The second was that it felt better than he'd ever imagined - and he didn't like admitting to himself how often he'd imagined it.
The third was that his hands were still bound behind his back.
“They must be closer on our trail than we realized,” Sylar was musing to himself. “And if they could kidnap you from right under everyone’s noses and get you to Albania this quickly -”
“You can let go of me now,” Mohinder interrupted.
Sylar looked startled for a moment before smiling again. “I’m just holding you up. In case you’ve forgotten, you were fairly unsteady on your feet a minute ago.”
“I think I’m recovered now,” Mohinder said carefully.
Sylar kept smiling, tilting his head as he looked down at him. “Does it bother you?” he asked teasingly. His arm tightened, pulling Mohinder against him more strongly. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Does it really bother you to have me this close to you? Touching you? Holding you? You really want me to stop?”
‘Yes’ never made it over Mohinder’s tongue. He tried to look away but his gaze was caught on Sylar’s lips. Sylar’s arm shifted around him, almost nervously. He glanced back up, his own lips parted.
Sylar’s face had gone serious. He stared at Mohinder for a long moment, as if this wasn’t the reaction he’d expected to get. Then he closed his eyes and kissed him.
Mohinder didn’t pull away as Sylar let his mouth linger. When Sylar’s tongue caressed the inside of his lips, he opened them further without thinking. By the time he reminded himself that he wasn’t supposed to want this, it was too late.
Sylar pushed against him. He took one step backwards, two, and then started to stumble before suddenly slamming against a wall. He gasped as their teeth grated together.
Sylar pulled away, but only so he could kiss the edge of his jaw. Mohinder stared wildly up over Sylar’s shoulder. He’d told himself so many times that he wouldn’t let this happen - he couldn’t let this happen -
“I...”
Sylar raised his head. His hand tightened on Mohinder’s bicep till it hurt. A threat. “What is it?”
Mohinder glanced around the room they were in. It was large and vaguely industrial and he somehow had a feeling that it wasn’t the same one he’d been in earlier. He strained his ears, hoping to catch an indication that someone else was within earshot, Peter, Nathan, Matt, even his captors - anyone who might stop this from happening.
“What if someone saw us?” he suddenly heard himself saying. It wasn’t what he’d meant to say, at all.
“There’s no one else around,” Sylar said softly.
He realized it wasn’t a threat. It was an invitation.
Then Sylar’s lips were trailing across his throat, moving as carefully as the fingers that were undoing his shirt buttons. Mohinder tried to raise his arms without thinking and was brought up short by his bonds. Sylar ignored his movement and continued kissing his chest and down his stomach, breath coming hot through Mohinder’s undershirt, until finally Sylar was on his knees and Mohinder could hardly breathe with the thought of what was going to happen next.
Sylar unzipped him and glanced up at him before leaning forward. Mohinder closed his eyes as Sylar’s tongue flicked against his navel. He felt Sylar pull his waistband out and down, and shivered as his cock brushed against the stubble on Sylar’s chin. Sylar pulled his clothing down towards his knees and then cupped his ass with warm hands, urging him forward until he was leaning over Sylar rather than back against the wall. He drew in a deep breath.
One of the things that he kept buried as deeply as possible, praying that no telepath would ever pick up, was the realization that the more time he spent around this man, the more he thought about this happening. The more he wanted this to happen, no matter how wrong it was. But he could honestly say that he’d never imagined it happening like this.
“Mohinder. Look at me.”
The sight of Sylar kneeling in front of him, eyes huge in the pale light, lips wet and parted, actually there instead of just being a figment of his imagination...God.
“Do you want me, Mohinder?”
Mohinder snorted and looked around the otherwise silent room. “What if I said no?”
Sylar turned his head and ran his lips gently across Mohinder’s erection. “I don’t think I’d believe you,” he murmured as Mohinder bit his tongue to try to keep quiet. He glanced up again. “But I can always stop, if that’s what you really want.” His hands ran teasingly down the back of Mohinder’s thighs, and then back up again. “Is it?”
Mohinder laughed bitterly again. “Does it really matter what I want?”
“Yes,” said Sylar, sounding slightly surprised. He pressed his lips to the edge of Mohinder’s thigh, just above where his hair started. “It matters. A lot.”
“Don’t stop,” Mohinder finally whispered.
Sylar licked the head of his cock before sliding his mouth down it and sucking, gently at first but then with surprising vigor. One of his hands slid over Mohinder’s - not pinning him down, but caressing his wrists over top of the thin rope that bound them together.
Mohinder turned his head and moaned softly. As good as it felt, it suddenly wasn’t enough. He wanted his hands free, wanted to touch Sylar’s lips as they slid up and down him, wanted to grip his hair and tilt his head back and fuck his mouth. God, he wanted to be entirely naked, to know what it felt like to have his body entwined with Sylar’s, to know what it felt like to have Sylar’s bare cock in his hand, in his mouth, to have Sylar bent over in front of him and begging for it as he buried himself inside.
Sylar suddenly stopped. As Mohinder gasped a protest, he stood, hands on Mohinder’s hips, and kissed him. Mohinder returned it violently and ground against him. He was so close... Sylar looked down at him, barely touching him any more, almost like he was expecting something.
“Why are you doing this?” Mohinder demanded.
Sylar smiled against his lips. “Because I want you to remember how badly you wanted this, Mohinder. I want you to think about how this felt every time you jerk yourself off in the shower.”
Mohinder’s eyes widened and Sylar chuckled. “I’ve watched you do that so many times over the last few months. Funny how often you do it after we meet, isn’t it? Pete goes off to polish his pure-hearted dreams for saving the world, and you come home and do...that.” He suddenly buried his face against Mohinder’s neck. “You look so beautiful when you’re doing it, Mohinder. The way you close your eyes just before you finish. The way the water washes your come down over your fingers. It makes me want to touch you.” He raised his head. “Would you like that? If I were there, touching you?”
Mohinder shook his head, torn between fury and need. “Wait. You...you...you’ve been stalking me?”
Sylar rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t say ‘stalking’. Maybe...‘taking a personal interest’.” He paused. “The first time I followed you home, I wanted to see if you could be trusted. I didn’t particularly enjoy having you kick in my door to make demands of me. I just wanted to see if you called anyone to report on what you’d done. When I realized what you were doing...” His hands tightened on Mohinder. “Who do you think about when you’re doing it?”
Mohinder couldn’t speak.
“I think about you,” Sylar confessed. He suddenly looked down. “When I can’t sleep at night, I imagine you. What you’d taste like. Ever since the day I met you...” His voice trailed off for a moment. “Tell me it’s me, Mohinder. Tell me I’m the one you think about.”
Mohinder was paralyzed. He’d fantasized about this so many times - but some things one fantasizes about because one doesn’t think they’ll ever come true.
Then he caught Sylar’s lips with his own, and Sylar wrapped his arms around him. He could feel how hard Sylar was under the fabric of his jeans and he thought, Untie me, untie me, for God’s sake, please let me touch you...
When Sylar pulled back from him this time, he realized that the light was different. He looked up - they were back in his apartment. He gave Sylar a bewildered look. “How -”
Sylar grinned wryly. “That’s one trick you didn’t know I could do, isn’t it? I hate to tip you off to it, but I couldn’t very well leave you alone back there.”
Mohinder shook his head. “Wait a minute. What are - you’re leaving?”
“Believe me, I don’t want to,” Sylar said. “But unfortunately, I can only move through space, not time. Which means that right now, Pete’s holding down the fort by himself, and a crisis is inevitable, so I’ve got to get back there. Business before pleasure...” His hand ghosted up beneath Mohinder’s undershirt and he sighed lightly.
“You’re just going to go off and leave me here like this?” Mohinder said heatedly.
Sylar glanced around. “You’re safe here. And you’re resourceful - I’m sure you can figure out a way to get your hands free. Eventually.”
“You son of a bitch -”
“Shhhh.” Sylar laid a finger against his lips. “I’ll be back. As soon as I finish this little job. Don’t worry.”
Mohinder flushed.
“Just one thing.” He lazily ran his other hand up Mohinder’s aching cock and Mohinder breathed deeply. “Don’t do anything about this before I get back. Promise? Because when I do, the things I’m going to do to you - everything you’ve ever dreamed of. And maybe some things you haven’t. And you’re going to love every moment of it.”
“What, you’re that sure of yourself? You honestly think you’re that amazing?” He had to make one last stand.
“No.” Sylar kissed him, gently but wetly. “I just think it’s time for us to stop thinking about this over and over, and be what we were meant to be.”
The ring of destiny in the words made Mohinder slightly uncomfortable, but at the same time, it somehow felt right. He closed his eyes and kissed Sylar just as gently, and Sylar cupped the back of his head, sliding fingers through his hair.
Then he was gone.
X-posted to
mission_insane and
mylar_fic