Best Served Cold 1/2
Oct. 23rd, 2007 01:17 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
flwrpwr_vampyreTitle: Best Served Cold 1/2
Author: flwrpwr_vampyre
Rating: NC-17
Pairing/Characters: Mohinder/Sylar
Spoilers: Up to 2.03
Warnings: non-con, torture
Summary: Mohinder gets his hands on a powerless Sylar
Disclaimer: I obviously don't own Heroes.
Notes: Beta'd by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
flying_monkees. Thankee much!
Mohinder paused at the closed bedroom door and smiled with satisfaction at the sounds that issued from behind it. The sounds of someone fighting their bonds along with growls of frustration and the occasional grunt of pain. Oh yes, this would be most enjoyable, at least for him.
Opening the door he entered his small bedroom, wiping the smile off his face. It wouldn't do to let the tall man lying on the bed with his hands cuffed above him to the headboard know how pleased he was at this situation.
The man in question had stopped his struggles as soon as the door had opened. Panting, chest heaving from his exertions, he merely glared at Mohinder, the hate coming off him in waves. There was a moment of silence.
"Sylar." Mohinder said this without any inflection, willing himself to stay in control. You have waited so long for this, he reminded himself.
Sylar cleared the glare off of his face and cocked his head at Mohinder, listening to something that only he could hear.
“How did you find me?”
Mohinder smiled without amusement. “That is something you don’t need to know. Nor does it matter how I got you here.”
A frown crept onto his prisoner’s face as he tried to remember and couldn’t. Mohinder smiled, this time with pleasure.
“It’s no use. You’ll never get those memories back.”
He waited and, sure enough, it didn’t take long for Sylar to connect the pieces of this particular puzzle.
“Oh... I can’t wait to have that power.” He breathed, his longing apparent in the way he caressed the words.
“I’m afraid that isn’t going to happen.” Mohinder crossed the room and stood by the bed, looking down at his captive. “Even if you could get free from your bonds and get to the individual with that power, you couldn’t use it. You can’t use any of your powers. We discovered that when we recovered you. You are truly powerless.”
He watched the disbelief spread over Sylar’s face and almost laughed at the man’s futile attempts to use a power, any power.
“Yes, you are truly at my mercy and never has a man deserved it less.”
He took a step back and observed the man who was once again fighting his bonds, who was a little more desperate now. They had left his chest bare to make it easier to tend to his wounds. In fact, the only piece of clothing that he actually wore was a pair of white medical pants that were so thin that they didn’t really do anything to protect his modesty.
Sylar finally noticed how Mohinder was looking at him and immediately stilled, watching him. After a second, he grinned.
“Like what you see, Doc?” the last word was spat at him with something like contempt, although Sylar kept his grin. It would have been disturbing if the man wasn’t in such a helpless position. Mohinder ignored the words and continued his scrutiny.
Sylar changed tactics; he was ever versatile in his attempts to remain in control. Now he stretched out his lean body and smiled at Mohinder, looking at him under heavy, lidded eyes.
“I know you wanted Zane,” he said, his words coming out smooth, taunting yet seductive. “I know you wanted Sylar. I could see it, feel it, hear it. You were practically in heat.”
Mohinder moved forward and sat down next to his prisoner.
“You’re right,” he said, his lips curving into a smirk. “I did want Zane and once I found out the deception the physical attraction did not diminish. Then you used me, hurt me.” His lips tightened for barely a perceptible second. “Now it’s time to return the favor,” he breathed, dipping his head so that their lips were almost touching.
Sylar didn’t move, almost daring Mohinder to do something. When nothing came for a long moment, he did exactly what Mohinder was counting on. He tried to take control of the situation, arching up against him and moving so that their lips met.
Mohinder immediately sat back up and watched as Sylar looked up at him, confusion written across his features.
“I thought-.“ He began, but Mohinder cut him off.
“This is not about you. You are not in control here, I am. This is about my pleasure, not yours. And you will not forget that. I won’t let you.”
To prove his point he ran his hands over the taller man’s shoulders and down his chest. Sylar drew in a breath, his eyes never leaving Mohinder’s as the dark skinned man reached his wound, laid both hands over it, and pressed.
The sound that came out of the villain’s throat went straight to Mohinder’s cock. It was pain, pure and simple, a deep howl of agony that made Mohinder so hard it hurt. The feeling of Sylar’s corded body straining to get him to stop had him smiling in pure pleasure for the first time that evening.
He held his position for what seemed like an eternity but couldn’t have been longer then a minute or two, imagining what it felt like for the man under him, a man in so much pain that he couldn’t even form words.
When he finally stopped it took a second or two for it to register with Sylar, the man continuing to let out small moans of pain as he fought to catch his breath. When he finally was able to speak his words came out in gasps.
“So - that’s - the way - it is?”
Mohinder smiled grimly at him. “Don’t be ridiculous. That was just a warning of what would happen if you decided to fight me. While torturing you does have it’s... perks, it wouldn’t bring me very much pleasure.”
At the word pleasure, Sylar’s eyes flew down and settled on the bulge in Mohinder’s slacks. A humorless bark of laughter came out of his mouth.
“You’re more twisted then I thought.” He rasped out. “Hurting me, it’s turning you on.”
Mohinder ignored that for the moment and quickly stripped the murderer of his one remaining article of clothing. He let his amusement show through, looking at the soft dick lying gently on the thatch of hairs that curled above it.
“It’s too bad that it doesn’t do the same for you.”
He set the pants aside and reached down, slipping off his shoes before smoothly climbing onto the bed and straddling Sylar’s chest, this time being careful not to touch his wound. He slowly unzipped his slacks and slid his hand into them, stroking himself a couple of times before bringing out his hard length.
Sylar laid his head back and maintained eye contact with him, steadfastly ignoring the fact that Mohinder was doing anything at all. The young doctor allowed it for a second and then roughly pulled his head up and shoved his dick in his captive’s mouth.
He was pleased that there was no resistance, no futile clashing of wills. Sylar might be insane, but he did try and avoid unnecessary pain.
Mohinder weaved a hand into Sylar’s hair, enjoying that it was long enough to do this to. The other hand he rested on the headboard, using it for balance. He fucked the taller man’s mouth slowly for the time being, just enjoying the sensation, enjoying the other man’s vulnerability.
It didn’t take long for his body to demand more and he twisted his fingers and pulled on Sylar’s hair, relishing the gasps of pain that spurred him on to thrust harder, deeper. As the man gagged and choked he felt his orgasm building and he lost himself in the helplessness he imagined the killer must be feeling.
A few more thrusts and he was coming, pulling himself out of the warm mouth and spurting onto his captive’s face. A face that had its eyes and mouth tightly closed as to get nothing in them.
“Oh, no you don’t,” he said softly, moving to sit beside Sylar. He laid his hand on the man’s bandaged wound. “Open your eyes.” He commanded and was pleased when it was obeyed, albeit a little slower then he would have liked.
Sylar stared at him, obviously trying to get his breathing back under control. He shuddered almost imperceptibly when Mohinder brought his other hand up and ran his fingers through the cum coating his face.
Mohinder gathered as much he could and brought his fingers to the lips of the bound man.
“Open up,’ he said, so quietly he wasn’t sure if the words were heard.
The bound man closed his lips tighter and then his whole body caved in defeat. He bowed his head and opened his mouth, allowing Mohinder to slip his cum-covered fingers inside. He immediately gagged at the taste, yet there was no attempt on his part to stop the Indian man who methodically captured every trace he could find and deposited it in the taller man’s mouth.
He kept gagging, even after he’d swallowed the last bit and it only took a second for it to actually turn into throwing up.
“Mo-“ He started but Mohinder was already moving, reaching down and grabbing the bedpan he’d put there when they’d first brought the killer in.
As Sylar was sick, Mohinder stroked his shoulder not trying to be tender but having nothing better to do with his free hand.
When his captive was finished he took the bedpan with distaste and went to flush its contents. Before returning to the room he grabbed a washcloth, a glass of water, and a roll of mints. As he reentered the room he couldn’t help but notice that Sylar didn’t even lift his head to look at him. The tall man didn’t look so formidable now as he lay staring blankly at the ceiling, not moving a muscle.
Mohinder held back his smile of satisfaction and cleaned up Sylar’s face. He propped up his head and held the water glass to his lips, watching as Sylar sipped it cautiously, still not looking at anywhere in particular.
He finally got a reaction when he slipped a couple of mints into the other man’s mouth. It was a half-horrified expression that was quickly squashed.
“What, you don’t like spearmint?” He chuckled humorlessly at his joke. “That’s for later, I might decide that I want to kiss you and I’d prefer you not to taste like vomit.” The look he got from Sylar actually made him laugh a genuine laugh. “Oh yes, I’m not nearly done with you yet.”
Part Two
Author: flwrpwr_vampyre
Rating: NC-17
Pairing/Characters: Mohinder/Sylar
Spoilers: Up to 2.03
Warnings: non-con, torture
Summary: Mohinder gets his hands on a powerless Sylar
Disclaimer: I obviously don't own Heroes.
Notes: Beta'd by
flying_monkees. Thankee much! Mohinder paused at the closed bedroom door and smiled with satisfaction at the sounds that issued from behind it. The sounds of someone fighting their bonds along with growls of frustration and the occasional grunt of pain. Oh yes, this would be most enjoyable, at least for him.
Opening the door he entered his small bedroom, wiping the smile off his face. It wouldn't do to let the tall man lying on the bed with his hands cuffed above him to the headboard know how pleased he was at this situation.
The man in question had stopped his struggles as soon as the door had opened. Panting, chest heaving from his exertions, he merely glared at Mohinder, the hate coming off him in waves. There was a moment of silence.
"Sylar." Mohinder said this without any inflection, willing himself to stay in control. You have waited so long for this, he reminded himself.
Sylar cleared the glare off of his face and cocked his head at Mohinder, listening to something that only he could hear.
“How did you find me?”
Mohinder smiled without amusement. “That is something you don’t need to know. Nor does it matter how I got you here.”
A frown crept onto his prisoner’s face as he tried to remember and couldn’t. Mohinder smiled, this time with pleasure.
“It’s no use. You’ll never get those memories back.”
He waited and, sure enough, it didn’t take long for Sylar to connect the pieces of this particular puzzle.
“Oh... I can’t wait to have that power.” He breathed, his longing apparent in the way he caressed the words.
“I’m afraid that isn’t going to happen.” Mohinder crossed the room and stood by the bed, looking down at his captive. “Even if you could get free from your bonds and get to the individual with that power, you couldn’t use it. You can’t use any of your powers. We discovered that when we recovered you. You are truly powerless.”
He watched the disbelief spread over Sylar’s face and almost laughed at the man’s futile attempts to use a power, any power.
“Yes, you are truly at my mercy and never has a man deserved it less.”
He took a step back and observed the man who was once again fighting his bonds, who was a little more desperate now. They had left his chest bare to make it easier to tend to his wounds. In fact, the only piece of clothing that he actually wore was a pair of white medical pants that were so thin that they didn’t really do anything to protect his modesty.
Sylar finally noticed how Mohinder was looking at him and immediately stilled, watching him. After a second, he grinned.
“Like what you see, Doc?” the last word was spat at him with something like contempt, although Sylar kept his grin. It would have been disturbing if the man wasn’t in such a helpless position. Mohinder ignored the words and continued his scrutiny.
Sylar changed tactics; he was ever versatile in his attempts to remain in control. Now he stretched out his lean body and smiled at Mohinder, looking at him under heavy, lidded eyes.
“I know you wanted Zane,” he said, his words coming out smooth, taunting yet seductive. “I know you wanted Sylar. I could see it, feel it, hear it. You were practically in heat.”
Mohinder moved forward and sat down next to his prisoner.
“You’re right,” he said, his lips curving into a smirk. “I did want Zane and once I found out the deception the physical attraction did not diminish. Then you used me, hurt me.” His lips tightened for barely a perceptible second. “Now it’s time to return the favor,” he breathed, dipping his head so that their lips were almost touching.
Sylar didn’t move, almost daring Mohinder to do something. When nothing came for a long moment, he did exactly what Mohinder was counting on. He tried to take control of the situation, arching up against him and moving so that their lips met.
Mohinder immediately sat back up and watched as Sylar looked up at him, confusion written across his features.
“I thought-.“ He began, but Mohinder cut him off.
“This is not about you. You are not in control here, I am. This is about my pleasure, not yours. And you will not forget that. I won’t let you.”
To prove his point he ran his hands over the taller man’s shoulders and down his chest. Sylar drew in a breath, his eyes never leaving Mohinder’s as the dark skinned man reached his wound, laid both hands over it, and pressed.
The sound that came out of the villain’s throat went straight to Mohinder’s cock. It was pain, pure and simple, a deep howl of agony that made Mohinder so hard it hurt. The feeling of Sylar’s corded body straining to get him to stop had him smiling in pure pleasure for the first time that evening.
He held his position for what seemed like an eternity but couldn’t have been longer then a minute or two, imagining what it felt like for the man under him, a man in so much pain that he couldn’t even form words.
When he finally stopped it took a second or two for it to register with Sylar, the man continuing to let out small moans of pain as he fought to catch his breath. When he finally was able to speak his words came out in gasps.
“So - that’s - the way - it is?”
Mohinder smiled grimly at him. “Don’t be ridiculous. That was just a warning of what would happen if you decided to fight me. While torturing you does have it’s... perks, it wouldn’t bring me very much pleasure.”
At the word pleasure, Sylar’s eyes flew down and settled on the bulge in Mohinder’s slacks. A humorless bark of laughter came out of his mouth.
“You’re more twisted then I thought.” He rasped out. “Hurting me, it’s turning you on.”
Mohinder ignored that for the moment and quickly stripped the murderer of his one remaining article of clothing. He let his amusement show through, looking at the soft dick lying gently on the thatch of hairs that curled above it.
“It’s too bad that it doesn’t do the same for you.”
He set the pants aside and reached down, slipping off his shoes before smoothly climbing onto the bed and straddling Sylar’s chest, this time being careful not to touch his wound. He slowly unzipped his slacks and slid his hand into them, stroking himself a couple of times before bringing out his hard length.
Sylar laid his head back and maintained eye contact with him, steadfastly ignoring the fact that Mohinder was doing anything at all. The young doctor allowed it for a second and then roughly pulled his head up and shoved his dick in his captive’s mouth.
He was pleased that there was no resistance, no futile clashing of wills. Sylar might be insane, but he did try and avoid unnecessary pain.
Mohinder weaved a hand into Sylar’s hair, enjoying that it was long enough to do this to. The other hand he rested on the headboard, using it for balance. He fucked the taller man’s mouth slowly for the time being, just enjoying the sensation, enjoying the other man’s vulnerability.
It didn’t take long for his body to demand more and he twisted his fingers and pulled on Sylar’s hair, relishing the gasps of pain that spurred him on to thrust harder, deeper. As the man gagged and choked he felt his orgasm building and he lost himself in the helplessness he imagined the killer must be feeling.
A few more thrusts and he was coming, pulling himself out of the warm mouth and spurting onto his captive’s face. A face that had its eyes and mouth tightly closed as to get nothing in them.
“Oh, no you don’t,” he said softly, moving to sit beside Sylar. He laid his hand on the man’s bandaged wound. “Open your eyes.” He commanded and was pleased when it was obeyed, albeit a little slower then he would have liked.
Sylar stared at him, obviously trying to get his breathing back under control. He shuddered almost imperceptibly when Mohinder brought his other hand up and ran his fingers through the cum coating his face.
Mohinder gathered as much he could and brought his fingers to the lips of the bound man.
“Open up,’ he said, so quietly he wasn’t sure if the words were heard.
The bound man closed his lips tighter and then his whole body caved in defeat. He bowed his head and opened his mouth, allowing Mohinder to slip his cum-covered fingers inside. He immediately gagged at the taste, yet there was no attempt on his part to stop the Indian man who methodically captured every trace he could find and deposited it in the taller man’s mouth.
He kept gagging, even after he’d swallowed the last bit and it only took a second for it to actually turn into throwing up.
“Mo-“ He started but Mohinder was already moving, reaching down and grabbing the bedpan he’d put there when they’d first brought the killer in.
As Sylar was sick, Mohinder stroked his shoulder not trying to be tender but having nothing better to do with his free hand.
When his captive was finished he took the bedpan with distaste and went to flush its contents. Before returning to the room he grabbed a washcloth, a glass of water, and a roll of mints. As he reentered the room he couldn’t help but notice that Sylar didn’t even lift his head to look at him. The tall man didn’t look so formidable now as he lay staring blankly at the ceiling, not moving a muscle.
Mohinder held back his smile of satisfaction and cleaned up Sylar’s face. He propped up his head and held the water glass to his lips, watching as Sylar sipped it cautiously, still not looking at anywhere in particular.
He finally got a reaction when he slipped a couple of mints into the other man’s mouth. It was a half-horrified expression that was quickly squashed.
“What, you don’t like spearmint?” He chuckled humorlessly at his joke. “That’s for later, I might decide that I want to kiss you and I’d prefer you not to taste like vomit.” The look he got from Sylar actually made him laugh a genuine laugh. “Oh yes, I’m not nearly done with you yet.”
Part Two
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-29 08:18 am (UTC)Mohinder did get revenge in this!
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-29 03:35 pm (UTC)Thanks for reading and I'm glad you liked it!
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-14 03:52 am (UTC)“This is not about you. You are not in control here, I am. This is about my pleasure, not yours. And you will not forget that. I won’t let you.”
To prove his point he ran his hands over the taller man’s shoulders and down his chest. Sylar drew in a breath, his eyes never leaving Mohinder’s as the dark skinned man reached his wound, laid both hands over it, and pressed.
Girl, you're so twisted. ILU
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-14 04:05 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-14 01:43 pm (UTC)The sound that came out of the villain’s throat went straight to Mohinder’s cock. It was pain, pure and simple, a deep howl of agony that made Mohinder so hard it hurt.
Fricky, frack girl! Am so mem'ing this. <3 X infinity!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-14 05:31 pm (UTC)Thank you so much for the wonderful comment!!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-06 07:29 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-06 09:23 pm (UTC)Yes, this is one of two. Here's the link for the second part: http://community.livejournal.com/fandomsecrets/205556.html