Purple and Blue
Rating : NC17
Pairing : Sylar/Luke
Word count : 1874
Notes : For the Heroes Anonymous Kink Meme
Sylar tried not to look at the pimp as he was rambling about the relative merits of his charges. The guy was such a salesman, trying to punt his costlier boys first, bragging about their tightness, their cleanness. Sylar looked at the boys gathered behind him, all of them looking too relaxed to care. In the periphery of his vision he saw a blonde kid darting to a car as it slowed. He was bent to the window, bargaining with the occupant until he came across as that little bit too eager and the car pulled off, leaving him with his head hung. He put a hand on his stomach as if it was rumbling and Sylar was sold. “What about him?” he nodded to the kid as the pimp flinched at being interrupted.
“Him? He ain’t one of mine, and word to the wise buddy, he’s used up. Not pretty enough so he lets his johns give him the rough stuff. You don’t want him, he’s a wreck.17 and all used up, I swear. Now my boy Ricky….” He trailed off as Sylar walked purposefully towards the boy. “Your fucking funeral buddy.” He said as he eyeballed the guy who just pulled up in a Lexus.
Sylar approached the boy and saw a little of what the pimp had meant, His face looked at once boyish and sweet and tired and jaded, like a hologram that changed as you tipped it. “How much?” He said abruptly, taking in the look of surprise on the kid’s face.
“$100 for the night”
“You don’t even know what I want yet.”
The boy smiled as if Sylar had just said something incredibly dumb. “I’ll do anything for a hundred. As many times as you like, whatever you want, anything.” When Sylar didn’t jump at the chance his voice softened. “Come on, that’s a good deal, really. It’s the cheapest you’ll get.” The pleading look on his face made Sylar harden and he nodded.
“Come on then, car’s over here.” He walked off and smirked at the little jog that the boy broke into, like a child chasing a dropped dollar bill on a windy day.
“My name’s Luke.” He said, knowing that the john didn’t give a shit.
…
Luke shivered at the warmth of the motel room and looked at the wool blanket on the bed hungrily. He looked up at Sylar and raised his eyebrows. “So what do you want me to do?”
Sylar looked him up and down and kicked off his shoes, crossing to sit on the bed. “Take you clothes off. No showboating, just take them off like you would if I wasn’t here.” He stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles and letting his head rest on the mounted headboard.
Luke nodded and bent down to untie his sneakers, kicking them off and checking on Sylar’s reactions. The man was watching him coldly, making him feel uncomfortable. He pulled off his tshirt, hoping that the guy wouldn’t change his mind when he saw the bruises. The last guy had beaten him pretty badly, he thought he may have had a cracked rib but there was nothing to be done about it. As he pulled the shirt over his head he saw that Sylar’s mouth hung open a little and he was breathing heavier. Sure enough the guy was hard too. So this was how it was going to be.
He unbuttoned his jeans and was finally able to breathe out, he’d been sucking in the puppy fat that still ran around his waist and would have been hidden in his usual cargo pants. He’d started to wear these dumb skinny jeans like the other boys but they hurt him where they clung to the bruises on his hips and round his groin. He pushed them down and lifted a leg at a time to get them off, taking off his socks while he was bent over and worrying about the red welt on his ankle. When he stood back up Sylar was on all fours on the bed, looking at his damaged body like it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Sylar sat on the edge of the bed and smacked Luke’s hands away from the waistband of his boxers. “I’ll do it.” He growled, slipping his fingers under the elastic and smiling as he let it snap back against the blackened skin on Luke’s hip bones and he winced. He pulled the boxers down and moaned as he saw the marks. Luke’s thighs and knees, red, purple and black. “What’s that?” he said softly, putting the tip of his finger on a round, red mark on the crease of Luke’s groin.
“Cigarette burn.” Luke said blankly. “Do you wanna hurt me?”
Sylar traced the changes in tone between the green bruise to the left of Luke’s naval and the unblemished skin. “Why do you let people do it?”
“I have to. People don’t want me otherwise. I can’t afford to let all these heal before I work again.” He shrugged. “Just….you can do what you want but my face…I mean, please.” He flinched as Sylar’s hand rose to his cheek and stroked it.
“Lay down on your back.” Sylar stood and undressed as Luke lay on the bed. He took his cock in his hand, though once he saw Luke, naked and bruised, lying prone on the bed he was hard enough. He crawled between Luke’s legs, lying on top of him and kissing his throat gently. He turned his head and nipped hard at Luke’s neck, moaning as the boy whimpered. He immediately licked over the pinched skin and blew against it, smiling as he felt the boy’s cock spring up against his.
Almost every bone protrusion on the boy’s body had a bruise or mark of some description, from the fading beige on his collarbone to the freshly made lilac on his shoulder. Sylar licked at each bruise in turn, then blew, then kissed. Where there were tiny crenulations from a bite mark on his shoulder he covered them with his own mouth, but only let his lips press on the blemishes. He continued down the length of Luke’s body, searching out every imperfection and repeating the attentions. When he reached Luke’s cock he took it in his hand and stroked firmly, settling himself on his elbows and using both hands to tease at the wrinkled skin.
“Will you let me do anything?” he asked, running his soft bottom lip along the wet tip of Luke’s erection.
“Y - yes...Anything you want.” Luke said breathlessly, his eyes screwed shut.
“Do you like it? The pain? The abuse?”
“Yes, I like it.”
Sylar felt a tingle. “You’re lying.”
“I…” Luke suddenly wondered whether that wasn’t the answer the guy was looking for. “I mean…no, I don’t like it.. Wait, do you…come on, give me a break, what do you want me to say?”
“I want you to tell me the truth. I don’t care what the truth is, but I will know when you’re lying.” Sylar licked up the length of Luke’s cock and let the high pitched moan ring in his ears.
“Oh! Ohh….okay, okay. I hate it. I hate being hurt but I don’t have a choice.”
“Hmm.” Sylar took Luke into his mouth and laved his tongue in circles as he hollowed his cheeks before letting it go with a pop. “So if I wanted to bite you, sink my teeth into your cock, you’d let me, because you have no choice?” He swallowed Luke again, bobbing his head.
“Wh..what? No,please…” He started to struggle a little but felt something, which he would later tell himself was tiredness, hold him down.
“What’s the matter Luke? You said anything I wanted for a hundred. Well what I want is to sink my teeth into your cock right now and hear you scream.” Sylar sat the tip of Luke’s cock on his bottom lip and kept it there, staring at him.
“Oh God no, please. Please don’t, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, you can fuck me all you want, you can beat me up, and I’ll give you your money back, please Sir, just please don’t. Oh God…” he started to cry as he watched Sylar open his mouth wider, his white teeth showing. “Oh God, please, no I don’t deserve this…”
Sylar lifted his head. “What did you say?”
Luke’s head swam as he came close to hyperventilating. “I don’t deserve this, please! I’m begging you!”
Sylar pushed off the bed and stood as Luke moaned in relief and pulled the blanket over himself, sobbing quietly. He walked to the side of the bed and got under the covers, turning off the lights as he went. Snaking an arm over Luke’s waist he took his cock in hand gently and started to stroke, shushing in his ear and breathing in the scent of his hair. “You don’t deserve it, that was the truth.” He shifted a little to let his erection press against the groove in Luke’s ass and dropped gentle kisses on his neck.
Luke sighed, the tears drying on his face as his racing thoughts scattered, leaving only the unheard mantra of “touch me”. He let his eyes close and leaned back against Sylar, moaning softly. He could feel the heat of arousal growing in his stomach, and the sporadic brushes of Sylar’s fingertips against his balls and the pooling wetness on his tip were edging him ever closer to climax. As Sylar went faster and gripped firmer he tensed and it only took a few seconds before he was spilling over his hand and twitching violently at the aftershocks. A moment later he felt wetness on the backs of his thighs and heard Sylar moan deeply into his ear.
Unable to stop himself Luke rolled over and held Sylar to him, kissing him and smiling when the man reciprocated, their tongues nudging against one another as they started to get hard again.
“I’m going to leave you a really nice tip, and you’re going to take two weeks off, do you understand me? I’ll be watching you, and if I see you working before all the bruises have healed I’ll be very angry.”
Luke looked into his eyes and realised he really didn’t want to see this guy angry. He nodded and rested his forehead against the heart-shaped patch of soft hair on Sylar’s chest, falling asleep within minutes.
As Sylar listened to the boy’s breathing he acknowledged a successful mission. He had no idea why this kid had kept appearing in his paintings, his broken body being photographed by jaded FBI agents, annoyed that they’d been given another dead hooker case. He didn’t know why his life should mean anything to him, but he somehow cared all the same. He got images of milkshakes, a red wagon, a black bird and didn’t know what they meant. Possibly just loose ends, rogue frames which had found themselves into the movie of his memory from another timeline - that had certainly happened before. Whatever the reason, he would keep watching the kid. Maybe then the paintings would revert to something closer to home.
Pairing : Sylar/Luke
Word count : 1874
Notes : For the Heroes Anonymous Kink Meme
Sylar tried not to look at the pimp as he was rambling about the relative merits of his charges. The guy was such a salesman, trying to punt his costlier boys first, bragging about their tightness, their cleanness. Sylar looked at the boys gathered behind him, all of them looking too relaxed to care. In the periphery of his vision he saw a blonde kid darting to a car as it slowed. He was bent to the window, bargaining with the occupant until he came across as that little bit too eager and the car pulled off, leaving him with his head hung. He put a hand on his stomach as if it was rumbling and Sylar was sold. “What about him?” he nodded to the kid as the pimp flinched at being interrupted.
“Him? He ain’t one of mine, and word to the wise buddy, he’s used up. Not pretty enough so he lets his johns give him the rough stuff. You don’t want him, he’s a wreck.17 and all used up, I swear. Now my boy Ricky….” He trailed off as Sylar walked purposefully towards the boy. “Your fucking funeral buddy.” He said as he eyeballed the guy who just pulled up in a Lexus.
Sylar approached the boy and saw a little of what the pimp had meant, His face looked at once boyish and sweet and tired and jaded, like a hologram that changed as you tipped it. “How much?” He said abruptly, taking in the look of surprise on the kid’s face.
“$100 for the night”
“You don’t even know what I want yet.”
The boy smiled as if Sylar had just said something incredibly dumb. “I’ll do anything for a hundred. As many times as you like, whatever you want, anything.” When Sylar didn’t jump at the chance his voice softened. “Come on, that’s a good deal, really. It’s the cheapest you’ll get.” The pleading look on his face made Sylar harden and he nodded.
“Come on then, car’s over here.” He walked off and smirked at the little jog that the boy broke into, like a child chasing a dropped dollar bill on a windy day.
“My name’s Luke.” He said, knowing that the john didn’t give a shit.
…
Luke shivered at the warmth of the motel room and looked at the wool blanket on the bed hungrily. He looked up at Sylar and raised his eyebrows. “So what do you want me to do?”
Sylar looked him up and down and kicked off his shoes, crossing to sit on the bed. “Take you clothes off. No showboating, just take them off like you would if I wasn’t here.” He stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles and letting his head rest on the mounted headboard.
Luke nodded and bent down to untie his sneakers, kicking them off and checking on Sylar’s reactions. The man was watching him coldly, making him feel uncomfortable. He pulled off his tshirt, hoping that the guy wouldn’t change his mind when he saw the bruises. The last guy had beaten him pretty badly, he thought he may have had a cracked rib but there was nothing to be done about it. As he pulled the shirt over his head he saw that Sylar’s mouth hung open a little and he was breathing heavier. Sure enough the guy was hard too. So this was how it was going to be.
He unbuttoned his jeans and was finally able to breathe out, he’d been sucking in the puppy fat that still ran around his waist and would have been hidden in his usual cargo pants. He’d started to wear these dumb skinny jeans like the other boys but they hurt him where they clung to the bruises on his hips and round his groin. He pushed them down and lifted a leg at a time to get them off, taking off his socks while he was bent over and worrying about the red welt on his ankle. When he stood back up Sylar was on all fours on the bed, looking at his damaged body like it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Sylar sat on the edge of the bed and smacked Luke’s hands away from the waistband of his boxers. “I’ll do it.” He growled, slipping his fingers under the elastic and smiling as he let it snap back against the blackened skin on Luke’s hip bones and he winced. He pulled the boxers down and moaned as he saw the marks. Luke’s thighs and knees, red, purple and black. “What’s that?” he said softly, putting the tip of his finger on a round, red mark on the crease of Luke’s groin.
“Cigarette burn.” Luke said blankly. “Do you wanna hurt me?”
Sylar traced the changes in tone between the green bruise to the left of Luke’s naval and the unblemished skin. “Why do you let people do it?”
“I have to. People don’t want me otherwise. I can’t afford to let all these heal before I work again.” He shrugged. “Just….you can do what you want but my face…I mean, please.” He flinched as Sylar’s hand rose to his cheek and stroked it.
“Lay down on your back.” Sylar stood and undressed as Luke lay on the bed. He took his cock in his hand, though once he saw Luke, naked and bruised, lying prone on the bed he was hard enough. He crawled between Luke’s legs, lying on top of him and kissing his throat gently. He turned his head and nipped hard at Luke’s neck, moaning as the boy whimpered. He immediately licked over the pinched skin and blew against it, smiling as he felt the boy’s cock spring up against his.
Almost every bone protrusion on the boy’s body had a bruise or mark of some description, from the fading beige on his collarbone to the freshly made lilac on his shoulder. Sylar licked at each bruise in turn, then blew, then kissed. Where there were tiny crenulations from a bite mark on his shoulder he covered them with his own mouth, but only let his lips press on the blemishes. He continued down the length of Luke’s body, searching out every imperfection and repeating the attentions. When he reached Luke’s cock he took it in his hand and stroked firmly, settling himself on his elbows and using both hands to tease at the wrinkled skin.
“Will you let me do anything?” he asked, running his soft bottom lip along the wet tip of Luke’s erection.
“Y - yes...Anything you want.” Luke said breathlessly, his eyes screwed shut.
“Do you like it? The pain? The abuse?”
“Yes, I like it.”
Sylar felt a tingle. “You’re lying.”
“I…” Luke suddenly wondered whether that wasn’t the answer the guy was looking for. “I mean…no, I don’t like it.. Wait, do you…come on, give me a break, what do you want me to say?”
“I want you to tell me the truth. I don’t care what the truth is, but I will know when you’re lying.” Sylar licked up the length of Luke’s cock and let the high pitched moan ring in his ears.
“Oh! Ohh….okay, okay. I hate it. I hate being hurt but I don’t have a choice.”
“Hmm.” Sylar took Luke into his mouth and laved his tongue in circles as he hollowed his cheeks before letting it go with a pop. “So if I wanted to bite you, sink my teeth into your cock, you’d let me, because you have no choice?” He swallowed Luke again, bobbing his head.
“Wh..what? No,please…” He started to struggle a little but felt something, which he would later tell himself was tiredness, hold him down.
“What’s the matter Luke? You said anything I wanted for a hundred. Well what I want is to sink my teeth into your cock right now and hear you scream.” Sylar sat the tip of Luke’s cock on his bottom lip and kept it there, staring at him.
“Oh God no, please. Please don’t, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, you can fuck me all you want, you can beat me up, and I’ll give you your money back, please Sir, just please don’t. Oh God…” he started to cry as he watched Sylar open his mouth wider, his white teeth showing. “Oh God, please, no I don’t deserve this…”
Sylar lifted his head. “What did you say?”
Luke’s head swam as he came close to hyperventilating. “I don’t deserve this, please! I’m begging you!”
Sylar pushed off the bed and stood as Luke moaned in relief and pulled the blanket over himself, sobbing quietly. He walked to the side of the bed and got under the covers, turning off the lights as he went. Snaking an arm over Luke’s waist he took his cock in hand gently and started to stroke, shushing in his ear and breathing in the scent of his hair. “You don’t deserve it, that was the truth.” He shifted a little to let his erection press against the groove in Luke’s ass and dropped gentle kisses on his neck.
Luke sighed, the tears drying on his face as his racing thoughts scattered, leaving only the unheard mantra of “touch me”. He let his eyes close and leaned back against Sylar, moaning softly. He could feel the heat of arousal growing in his stomach, and the sporadic brushes of Sylar’s fingertips against his balls and the pooling wetness on his tip were edging him ever closer to climax. As Sylar went faster and gripped firmer he tensed and it only took a few seconds before he was spilling over his hand and twitching violently at the aftershocks. A moment later he felt wetness on the backs of his thighs and heard Sylar moan deeply into his ear.
Unable to stop himself Luke rolled over and held Sylar to him, kissing him and smiling when the man reciprocated, their tongues nudging against one another as they started to get hard again.
“I’m going to leave you a really nice tip, and you’re going to take two weeks off, do you understand me? I’ll be watching you, and if I see you working before all the bruises have healed I’ll be very angry.”
Luke looked into his eyes and realised he really didn’t want to see this guy angry. He nodded and rested his forehead against the heart-shaped patch of soft hair on Sylar’s chest, falling asleep within minutes.
As Sylar listened to the boy’s breathing he acknowledged a successful mission. He had no idea why this kid had kept appearing in his paintings, his broken body being photographed by jaded FBI agents, annoyed that they’d been given another dead hooker case. He didn’t know why his life should mean anything to him, but he somehow cared all the same. He got images of milkshakes, a red wagon, a black bird and didn’t know what they meant. Possibly just loose ends, rogue frames which had found themselves into the movie of his memory from another timeline - that had certainly happened before. Whatever the reason, he would keep watching the kid. Maybe then the paintings would revert to something closer to home.