Fic: Mini Bar
Title: Mini Bar
Rating: PG
Pairing: Sylar/Luke
Word Count: approx 1800
Summary: Sylar leaves Luke in a fancy hotel room, Luke discovers the mini bar.
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine.
Author's Note: Don't ask why they're at a luxury hotel.. It's unimportant.
“We're staying here?”
Sylar didn't respond, just shoved Luke quickly through the front doors of the luxury hotel.
As they rushed through the lobby, Luke's eyes moved quickly from the connoisseur at the front desk, to the bellhops pushing carts of luggage, to the rows of sleek elevators.
“I've never stayed in a place this swank,” Luke whispered excitedly.
“Quiet,” Sylar muttered. “Just get in the elevator.”
As they rode the lift up, Luke stared at his reflection in the mirrored walls, before turning his attention to the numbered buttons.
“So many floors in this place,” he said, running his fingers lightly over the numbers.
The elevator came to a stop on the 19th floor. As they stepped out, Luke reached back in to mash his hands over the buttons, sending the elevator to countless floors throughout the hotel.
“Stop that,” Sylar hissed at him.
Luke laughed to himself as he followed Sylar down the hall.
Once inside their room, Luke kicked off his shoes and plunked himself down on one of the queen sized beds.
“Look at the size of this TV!” he nearly shouted, grabbing the remote off the bedside table.
The television came on with a click, and Luke proceeded to flick through every channel available, blasting their ears with a mixture of obnoxious talk shows, bad music, and canned laughter from insipid sitcom reruns.
Turning his gaze from the window, Sylar flicked his wrist at the television, causing it to shut off.
“Come on,” Luke whined. “I wanted to watch something..”
“You can watch whatever you want after I leave,” Sylar responded, closing the curtains.
Luke stared at him in surprise.
“You're leaving?” He asked quietly, a mixture of shock and fear in his voice.
“Temporarily,” Sylar replied. “I need to get a few things, and it's better if I go alone. You're too easily distracted..”
Luke frowned.
Sylar continued quietly, “..and if something happens I don't need you getting hurt.”
Luke's frown faded as he nodded in agreement.
Sylar cut across the room to grab his keys and jacket, before turning back to Luke.
“I'm putting the 'do not disturb' sign on the door. If anyone knocks, don't answer.”
The kid nodded again.
“Do not leave this room. Don't make any phone calls, and don't order room service--”
“But!” Luke interrupted. “What if I get hungry or thirsty?”
“There's a faucet in the bathroom,” Sylar growled. “I won't be gone long, so you can survive on water until I get back.”
Before Luke could protest again, Sylar stepped into the hallway and closed the door, the automatic lock clicking behind him.
Luke sighed as another yet sitcom opening flashed across the screen. Happy family - mom, dad, two kids, and a dog. A couple hours had passed since Sylar left, and Luke had wasted away the time watching reruns. He rolled his eyes as the irritatingly chipper theme song played, and then finally allowed himself to hit the 'off' button on the remote.
In the silence, Luke could hear his stomach growling.
“Starving..” he muttered to himself.
Leaving the bed, he wandered around the room.
Heading to the window, Luke opened the curtains an inch, and peaked outside. Nothing exciting, just rooftops, and tiny cars below.
He moved to the desk, and plunked himself down in the chair. Throwing the room service menu to the side, he picked up the hotel information book. Luke flicked through the pages, amusing himself with thoughts of front desk prank calls, and sending his clothing out to the dry cleaners. As he continued skimming the pages, one line caught his eye.
Mini bar.
Luke quickly skimmed back to read the section: “Please help yourself to the beverages and snacks in the in-room mini bar. Items will be replenished daily.”
“There's a mini bar in here?” he nearly yelled, hoping out of the chair.
His eyes moved around the room, before locking on a mini fridge in the cabinet below the television. He had no idea how he could've missed it before. Rushing over, he knelt down and found a padlock, with a key dangling from it. A quick turn of the key, and the fridge was open.
Luke nearly shouted with happiness, as bags of corn nuts and peanuts came spilling out. Luke grabbed a few bags, and a tin of cashews and set them on the floor beside him. Rifling through the small fridge, a shelf of tiny bottles caught his eye.
Alcohol.
He'd had beer a few times before. Just the occasional one, stolen from his mom's various boyfriends. It was the cool thing to do at the time, but he found he hated the taste of beer, so he never had enough to get drunk.
Luke grabbed a handful of bottles, stuffing them in his pants pockets, before retrieving his snacks and heading for the bed.
Turning the television back on, Luke switched it to a music station. Opening the first bottle, whiskey, he swallowed it all in one gulp, gasping as the alcohol burned his throat. Luke ripped open a bag of peanuts and poured them into his mouth, hoping to cool the dry burning sensation. He could already feel a warm flush creeping over his face as he opened the second bottle - vodka. He choked it back quickly, following it with a chaser of corn nuts.
Luke continued this pattern until he'd managed to choke down four tiny bottles.
His head spinning, he stumbled off the bed.
“Time to investigate this place,” he slurred to himself, heading for the bathroom.
Leaning across the bathroom counter, Luke made faces at himself in the mirror. His eyes scanned the reflection of the room behind him, before noticing a hair dryer on the wall to his left.
Standing up straight, he grabbed the hair dryer and turned it on, laughing at his reflection as he blew hot air over his face.
“Luke, I AM YOUR FATHERRRRRR” he growled into the blast of air, causing his voice to reverberate.
He jolted as the hot nichrome wire bumped against his lip, and he dropped the hair dryer from his hand. Turning from the counter, he exited the bathroom, the hairdryer still blasting behind him.
Stumbling through the room, Luke grabbed the tin of cashews off the bed and headed for the microwave.
“It's the amazing human microwave!” he snickered to himself.
Luke dumped the cashews inside, before setting it for five minutes on high power.
“Yum,” he muttered to himself, as the smell of roasted nuts began to fill the room.
Turning his attention to the coffee maker, Luke open several of the complementary packages, pouring them into the funnel section. As he lifted the lid to the water chamber, he turned his gaze to the bathroom.
“So far,” he moaned, not wanting to make the long journey to the faucet.
Reaching into his pockets, he pulled out a few more mini bottles and dumped them in the water chamber. Placing the pot under the nozzle, Luke flicked the on-switch, and the concoction began to percolate.
By this point, the roasted cashews were beginning to burn, and a light cloud of smoke had begun seeping from the microwave.
“Shit, shit shit!” Luke whispered frantically, popping the door to the microwave open.
Using the tin as a scoop, Luke scraped the burnt nuts into the wastebasket. He fanned the smoke away with the bottom of his shirt, before he turned towards the bed. He managed to get halfway on the bed, his feet still dangling over the side.
“Tired..” he muttered to no one, before passing out.
Sylar had noticed a burnt smell in the hallway, but hadn't grown suspicious until it grew increasingly stronger as he reached their hotel room.
“What the fuck..” he muttered to himself, as he swiped his card and opened the door.
A soft haze of smoke filled the room, and a stench of burnt..something. There was another smell as well. Coffee, and something sweeter. Sylar's gaze turned to the coffee maker where horrible black clumps were oozing out over the pot. He flicked his wrist to switch it off, and turned to shut off the television as well. The silence in the room suddenly made him aware of the sound coming from the bathroom. The hair dryer was blasting, and he could feel the heat as he ran in and yanked the plug from the wall.
Entering the room again, he flung open the curtains and opened the window to air out the place, before finally turning his attention to the kid on the bed.
“Luke!” he barked.
The kid didn't even so much as stir.
“LUKE” he growled through his teeth, giving the kid a shake.
Still nothing.
“LUKE!” Sylar shouted again, tugging on the kid's ankle. “Wake up and clean up this fucking mess!”
Glancing around the room, Sylar finally noticed the little bottles.
“Goddamn it,” he sighed, rolling his eyes.
Sylar grabbed Luke by his shirt, and pulled him up into a seated position.
Finally, Luke opened his bloodshot eyes.
“Hi Sylar,” he said with a grin, before his eyes began to close again.
Sylar shook the kid.
“I'm glad you're back,” Luke slurred. “It wasn't fun without you.”
“Well, it appears that you had plenty of fun without me,” Sylar spat.
He let go of Luke's shirt, and the kid fell back onto the bed.
Walking around the room, Sylar collected the tiny bottles and dumped them into the wastebasket. As he continued putting the room back in order, Luke raised his hand in the air, beckoning Sylar to him.
“Slyylar,” he called out weakly. “Come here.”
Sylar ignored him for a few minutes, before finally giving in.
"What do you want?" He growled.
As he hovered over Luke, the kid reached up and touched Sylar's face.
“I'm sorry,” he whispered, before passing out again.
Still leaning over Luke, Sylar studied him for a moment before pulling himself back into an upright position.
“Fucking kid,” he muttered.
Sylar reached down to undo Luke's pants, and slowly eased him out of them, leaving Luke in his shirt and boxers. Lifting the kid's feet off the floor, Sylar turned him so he was laying across the bed properly, and placed a pillow underneath his head.
Knowing the kid would likely be sick in the morning, Sylar brought the clean wastebasket from the bathroom and set it beside Luke's bed. Checking the kid one last time, Sylar smoothed the sweaty hair off Luke's forehead, before finally lying down on the adjacent bed.
Luke shifted in his sleep.
“Thanks Sylar,” he mumbled.
Sylar was silent for a moment, unsure of how to reply. Finally, he reached for the bedside lamp.
“Goodnight, Luke.” he said, turning off the light.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Sylar/Luke
Word Count: approx 1800
Summary: Sylar leaves Luke in a fancy hotel room, Luke discovers the mini bar.
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine.
Author's Note: Don't ask why they're at a luxury hotel.. It's unimportant.
“We're staying here?”
Sylar didn't respond, just shoved Luke quickly through the front doors of the luxury hotel.
As they rushed through the lobby, Luke's eyes moved quickly from the connoisseur at the front desk, to the bellhops pushing carts of luggage, to the rows of sleek elevators.
“I've never stayed in a place this swank,” Luke whispered excitedly.
“Quiet,” Sylar muttered. “Just get in the elevator.”
As they rode the lift up, Luke stared at his reflection in the mirrored walls, before turning his attention to the numbered buttons.
“So many floors in this place,” he said, running his fingers lightly over the numbers.
The elevator came to a stop on the 19th floor. As they stepped out, Luke reached back in to mash his hands over the buttons, sending the elevator to countless floors throughout the hotel.
“Stop that,” Sylar hissed at him.
Luke laughed to himself as he followed Sylar down the hall.
Once inside their room, Luke kicked off his shoes and plunked himself down on one of the queen sized beds.
“Look at the size of this TV!” he nearly shouted, grabbing the remote off the bedside table.
The television came on with a click, and Luke proceeded to flick through every channel available, blasting their ears with a mixture of obnoxious talk shows, bad music, and canned laughter from insipid sitcom reruns.
Turning his gaze from the window, Sylar flicked his wrist at the television, causing it to shut off.
“Come on,” Luke whined. “I wanted to watch something..”
“You can watch whatever you want after I leave,” Sylar responded, closing the curtains.
Luke stared at him in surprise.
“You're leaving?” He asked quietly, a mixture of shock and fear in his voice.
“Temporarily,” Sylar replied. “I need to get a few things, and it's better if I go alone. You're too easily distracted..”
Luke frowned.
Sylar continued quietly, “..and if something happens I don't need you getting hurt.”
Luke's frown faded as he nodded in agreement.
Sylar cut across the room to grab his keys and jacket, before turning back to Luke.
“I'm putting the 'do not disturb' sign on the door. If anyone knocks, don't answer.”
The kid nodded again.
“Do not leave this room. Don't make any phone calls, and don't order room service--”
“But!” Luke interrupted. “What if I get hungry or thirsty?”
“There's a faucet in the bathroom,” Sylar growled. “I won't be gone long, so you can survive on water until I get back.”
Before Luke could protest again, Sylar stepped into the hallway and closed the door, the automatic lock clicking behind him.
Luke sighed as another yet sitcom opening flashed across the screen. Happy family - mom, dad, two kids, and a dog. A couple hours had passed since Sylar left, and Luke had wasted away the time watching reruns. He rolled his eyes as the irritatingly chipper theme song played, and then finally allowed himself to hit the 'off' button on the remote.
In the silence, Luke could hear his stomach growling.
“Starving..” he muttered to himself.
Leaving the bed, he wandered around the room.
Heading to the window, Luke opened the curtains an inch, and peaked outside. Nothing exciting, just rooftops, and tiny cars below.
He moved to the desk, and plunked himself down in the chair. Throwing the room service menu to the side, he picked up the hotel information book. Luke flicked through the pages, amusing himself with thoughts of front desk prank calls, and sending his clothing out to the dry cleaners. As he continued skimming the pages, one line caught his eye.
Mini bar.
Luke quickly skimmed back to read the section: “Please help yourself to the beverages and snacks in the in-room mini bar. Items will be replenished daily.”
“There's a mini bar in here?” he nearly yelled, hoping out of the chair.
His eyes moved around the room, before locking on a mini fridge in the cabinet below the television. He had no idea how he could've missed it before. Rushing over, he knelt down and found a padlock, with a key dangling from it. A quick turn of the key, and the fridge was open.
Luke nearly shouted with happiness, as bags of corn nuts and peanuts came spilling out. Luke grabbed a few bags, and a tin of cashews and set them on the floor beside him. Rifling through the small fridge, a shelf of tiny bottles caught his eye.
Alcohol.
He'd had beer a few times before. Just the occasional one, stolen from his mom's various boyfriends. It was the cool thing to do at the time, but he found he hated the taste of beer, so he never had enough to get drunk.
Luke grabbed a handful of bottles, stuffing them in his pants pockets, before retrieving his snacks and heading for the bed.
Turning the television back on, Luke switched it to a music station. Opening the first bottle, whiskey, he swallowed it all in one gulp, gasping as the alcohol burned his throat. Luke ripped open a bag of peanuts and poured them into his mouth, hoping to cool the dry burning sensation. He could already feel a warm flush creeping over his face as he opened the second bottle - vodka. He choked it back quickly, following it with a chaser of corn nuts.
Luke continued this pattern until he'd managed to choke down four tiny bottles.
His head spinning, he stumbled off the bed.
“Time to investigate this place,” he slurred to himself, heading for the bathroom.
Leaning across the bathroom counter, Luke made faces at himself in the mirror. His eyes scanned the reflection of the room behind him, before noticing a hair dryer on the wall to his left.
Standing up straight, he grabbed the hair dryer and turned it on, laughing at his reflection as he blew hot air over his face.
“Luke, I AM YOUR FATHERRRRRR” he growled into the blast of air, causing his voice to reverberate.
He jolted as the hot nichrome wire bumped against his lip, and he dropped the hair dryer from his hand. Turning from the counter, he exited the bathroom, the hairdryer still blasting behind him.
Stumbling through the room, Luke grabbed the tin of cashews off the bed and headed for the microwave.
“It's the amazing human microwave!” he snickered to himself.
Luke dumped the cashews inside, before setting it for five minutes on high power.
“Yum,” he muttered to himself, as the smell of roasted nuts began to fill the room.
Turning his attention to the coffee maker, Luke open several of the complementary packages, pouring them into the funnel section. As he lifted the lid to the water chamber, he turned his gaze to the bathroom.
“So far,” he moaned, not wanting to make the long journey to the faucet.
Reaching into his pockets, he pulled out a few more mini bottles and dumped them in the water chamber. Placing the pot under the nozzle, Luke flicked the on-switch, and the concoction began to percolate.
By this point, the roasted cashews were beginning to burn, and a light cloud of smoke had begun seeping from the microwave.
“Shit, shit shit!” Luke whispered frantically, popping the door to the microwave open.
Using the tin as a scoop, Luke scraped the burnt nuts into the wastebasket. He fanned the smoke away with the bottom of his shirt, before he turned towards the bed. He managed to get halfway on the bed, his feet still dangling over the side.
“Tired..” he muttered to no one, before passing out.
Sylar had noticed a burnt smell in the hallway, but hadn't grown suspicious until it grew increasingly stronger as he reached their hotel room.
“What the fuck..” he muttered to himself, as he swiped his card and opened the door.
A soft haze of smoke filled the room, and a stench of burnt..something. There was another smell as well. Coffee, and something sweeter. Sylar's gaze turned to the coffee maker where horrible black clumps were oozing out over the pot. He flicked his wrist to switch it off, and turned to shut off the television as well. The silence in the room suddenly made him aware of the sound coming from the bathroom. The hair dryer was blasting, and he could feel the heat as he ran in and yanked the plug from the wall.
Entering the room again, he flung open the curtains and opened the window to air out the place, before finally turning his attention to the kid on the bed.
“Luke!” he barked.
The kid didn't even so much as stir.
“LUKE” he growled through his teeth, giving the kid a shake.
Still nothing.
“LUKE!” Sylar shouted again, tugging on the kid's ankle. “Wake up and clean up this fucking mess!”
Glancing around the room, Sylar finally noticed the little bottles.
“Goddamn it,” he sighed, rolling his eyes.
Sylar grabbed Luke by his shirt, and pulled him up into a seated position.
Finally, Luke opened his bloodshot eyes.
“Hi Sylar,” he said with a grin, before his eyes began to close again.
Sylar shook the kid.
“I'm glad you're back,” Luke slurred. “It wasn't fun without you.”
“Well, it appears that you had plenty of fun without me,” Sylar spat.
He let go of Luke's shirt, and the kid fell back onto the bed.
Walking around the room, Sylar collected the tiny bottles and dumped them into the wastebasket. As he continued putting the room back in order, Luke raised his hand in the air, beckoning Sylar to him.
“Slyylar,” he called out weakly. “Come here.”
Sylar ignored him for a few minutes, before finally giving in.
"What do you want?" He growled.
As he hovered over Luke, the kid reached up and touched Sylar's face.
“I'm sorry,” he whispered, before passing out again.
Still leaning over Luke, Sylar studied him for a moment before pulling himself back into an upright position.
“Fucking kid,” he muttered.
Sylar reached down to undo Luke's pants, and slowly eased him out of them, leaving Luke in his shirt and boxers. Lifting the kid's feet off the floor, Sylar turned him so he was laying across the bed properly, and placed a pillow underneath his head.
Knowing the kid would likely be sick in the morning, Sylar brought the clean wastebasket from the bathroom and set it beside Luke's bed. Checking the kid one last time, Sylar smoothed the sweaty hair off Luke's forehead, before finally lying down on the adjacent bed.
Luke shifted in his sleep.
“Thanks Sylar,” he mumbled.
Sylar was silent for a moment, unsure of how to reply. Finally, he reached for the bedside lamp.
“Goodnight, Luke.” he said, turning off the light.