Drabble: In The End (Sylar!Nathan/Claire)
Title: In the End
Rating: PG-15
Warnings: Spoilers for season 3 finale, sexual references, possible incest
Pairings: Sylar!Nathan/Claire
Summary: He knew it was wrong but he couldn’t stop it…
Word Count: 445
A/N: Written for the "sound" theme at heroes_contest
.I had half of this written out and the prompt just gave me enough encouragement to finish it :P I couldn’t stop this idea from typing itself down. The thought of both Sylar and Nathan getting what they want in the end was too compelling to not play around with. Actually, the whole prospect of Sylar!Nathan is too deliciously fucked up to not play around with… Told from Sylar's view when he thinks he's still NAthan and the "voice" being Nathan ...I’m actually really beginning to accept and like Sylar/Claire ONLY if he’s in the Sylathan form. But yeah… I really hope you enjoy this… I know I did writing it, even though it’s short :D
He knew it was wrong…
The way his eyes lingered on her petite form when she walked, appreciating the curves of her legs, the impressive dip of her breasts…the way he longed to run his hands over her sun kissed skin, touching, suckling each inch... the way he fantasized about her while he shamelessly jerked off in the dead hours of the night, his rough hands only a mocking imitation of what hers would feel like…
It was wrong, so very, very wrong…She was his daughter even if she never felt like it, and he was her biological father and whatever he was feeling was just completely and utterly wrong and he knew it…
But he couldn’t stop it no matter how hard he tried…he couldn’t control what he felt inside him every time she was near him…
She was like a drug to him, one he was helplessly addicted to, consuming every inch of him without even being aware of it… There was a thirst inside him, an animalistic longing he couldn’t explain to be near her, to hold her, to make her cry out in ecstasy under his touch…
At times he could almost feel her around him…the supple softness of her skin underneath his coarse hands…the intoxicating scent of her perfume…he could taste the sweetness of her on his lips…hear the sounds of her moaning out his name in a voice full of need, longing, lust...
They were just dreams but so vivid that they felt almost real and they scared, yet thrilled him…
But every time he gave in to his feelings of lust, every time he tried to reach out to touch her, to hold her just a little closer whenever they hugged, something in him restrained him. A furious wave of angry possessiveness that refused to let him make any move that wasn’t acceptable…
He fought those feelings, those scolding sounds in his head, never liking how they had power over him, how he wasn’t able to do what he wanted...
But in the end, all he was left with was feeling confused as to what exactly it was that he was fighting for…
Was it for the freedom to touch his daughter in a way no father ever should? Or for whatever voice it was inside him to take over and save him from what he was becoming?
He didn’t know and he didn’t care.
All he knew was that he wanted her, as wrong and fucked up as it was and no matter what sounds and voices guided his actions, he knew that either way, in the end; he would get what he wanted…
He always did…