Sylar on Sylar Action
Title: Sylar on Sylar Action
Characters: Sylar, James Martin, Danko
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Dub-con (victim consents, but isn’t in a position to say no), explicit sexual content, off screen murder
Word count: ~2,000
Setting: The episode Into Asylum, from season three, with a tiny tweak to canon.
Summary: Sylar and Danko capture James Martin. Rather than kill him right away, Sylar has something he wants to explore first - something that he’s wondered about for years now.
Notes: This was written for the January 2011 Heroes kinkmeme thread and I’ve only now realized I never posted it to my LJ. It also works as background for the Shattered Salvation AU.
A man who looked like Sylar walked up to Danko and stood next to him quietly. Danko gave him an assessing glance. It was all he needed. The body language was all wrong on this one. That wasn’t Sylar.
Danko said loudly, to carry over the music, “I lost him.”
The other man looked blankly surprised for a moment, then agreed, “Me too.”
Danko nodded - definitely not Sylar. “I guess he’s gone, for good this time.” He waited a beat and then turned to leave. “Let’s go.”
The imposter didn’t move at first and Danko didn’t look back. He just walked out. As soon as he thought his target was out the door though, he drew his gun and spun, but he didn’t pull the trigger. Behind James Martin was the real Sylar, one hand on the back of Martin’s neck and the other on his wrist, twisting a gun out of his hand. Well, Danko reflected, Sylar might have just saved my life. Or maybe not - hard to tell if I would have plugged the freak first. Well, one of the freaks.
Sylar drug the man into the nearby alley. For an alley, it was relatively clean. The imposter made a whimpering noise that was absolutely delicious. Sylar pulled him into the darkest shadows and paused there, throwing aside the gun.
Danko, who had followed at a slight distance, asked, “You going to take his ability?”
Sylar looked at Danko and chuckled, holding a mirror image of himself to the brick. “Maybe. Now go back to the mouth of the alley and keep watch. I don’t want to be disturbed, no matter what you hear.” He leered at him, then looked back at the shape shifter.
Danko followed his eyes. It’s not like I didn’t know Sylar was the freakiest freak out there. He chuckled and purred, “Take as long as you need.” He knew what was about to happen. In a similar situation, he probably wouldn’t do the same thing, but he didn’t begrudge anyone their once-in-a-lifetime fantasies.
The two Sylars watched Danko leave, then the more timid asked, “Wh-what are you going to do to me?”
The other Sylar looked at his mouth for a long moment. He smiled, then pursed his lips slightly, then smiled again, mouth hanging slightly open.
“Oh,” the one against the wall squeaked.
“I ran into someone once with an ability very, very much like yours and she made me the most,” he leaned in and breathed his words into the other man’s ear, “interesting offer.”
The man against the wall nodded, breathing harder himself. “Yeah … yeah.”
Sylar leaned back enough to see his own face looking back at him, no longer nearly so frightened. This was something James could deal with, and that was what Sylar had so hoped to see. “Yes?” he asked.
The shape shifter nodded, but his eyes darted to the entrance to the alley. “What about him?”
“Make me happy enough and I’ll deal with him.” He wasn’t promising anything. He was just implying and leaving it up to Martin to fill in the gaps - inaccurately, most likely, but Sylar didn’t care - not as long as he got what he wanted out of this.
And it certainly looked like he would. The shape shifter reached out and touched Sylar’s sides, sliding his shirt out and then running hesitant, exploring fingers underneath. Sylar grinned, watching himself seduce himself. He couldn’t stop smiling, even when the other version of him stood up a little straighter to match him and kissed him, hard and sloppily.
He pulled his head back and said playfully, “Hey, I’m a better kisser than that! Watch, and learn.” He brought his head in more slowly, slightly tilted, and brushed his lips. He finally got rid of that manic grin and relaxed his mouth, which softened his lips. The other man started to kiss back - again, too hard, too fast - and Sylar pulled back, saying, “Uh-uh.”
He repeated - another brush of lips, then a little firmer, moving his mouth to massage against him lightly. He brought up his hands and ran one behind the false Sylar’s head and used his other hand to caress his stubble-graced cheek. Now, he was really starting to sex himself. He pressed his lips more firmly against a mouth that should have been familiar, but was like no one he’d ever kissed before. He tasted the same though - slipping his tongue out to probe against the other man’s lips proved that. It also proved that Martin really liked it, because he moaned deep in his throat and ran his hands around to Sylar’s back, drawing him closer against him.
It had been the whimper that had turned Sylar’s thoughts this way, earlier. Hearing that sound come out of what looked so much like his body had made him suddenly wild with the desire to hear other sounds. What did he sound like when he came? What did he look like? What did he feel like, clenching around someone’s shaft?
He kissed him more passionately, grinding his pelvis against the other man. Both were hard, breathing fast and hands were starting to roam elsewhere, pulling out clothes, unfastening jeans and pushing them down. Sylar wasn’t sure what he was going to get here, but a moment later his alter-ego dropped to his knees and pulled him out. Sylar put one hand against the rough brick and ran the other into the man’s hair. He was about to get sucked off looking into his own face. Oh how I want to remember this forever!
Sylar, himself, didn’t have much experience giving head. In fact, if you didn’t count that embarrassing incident when he was a kid, none at all. James Martin, on the other hand, was proficient and enthusiastic. He sucked in Sylar’s rigid cock, tilting it down and pulling it into his mouth. He let the head rub against his palette while his tongue worked the underside, eliciting an immediate, lusty growl of approval.
Martin wrapped one hand around the base of the organ while his other hand began to stroke his own dick. He was great at it, but nothing beat the sheer fucked-up pleasure of looking down and watching yourself polish your own knob. Sylar worked his fist into that hair, feeling it silky under his fingers, thinking this was what his lovers would see if he ever took a man as one, and if he deigned to get on his knees for one of them. There was a certain humor in the face that his first male/male encounter would be with himself. Martin’s skilled tongue was driving him mad. He jerked the other man back, watching him wince and listening to him grunt. He wouldn’t have minded coming in his mouth, but he wanted the combo platter tonight - not just a single entree.
“Get your pants off.”
The other man looked up and down the alley apprehensively.
“My friend’s keeping us private. Pants off,” he said with a warning edge to his voice, reminding the shape shifter which of them was in charge. The subordinate Sylar nodded and stripped. The dominant said, “Good. Now, you have a power - and I have a power.” With that, he brought his telekinesis around the other man’s thighs and buttocks, lifting him, tilting the legs, supporting his weight and letting him hang in the air in front of him, only a few inches higher than he had been.
“Whoa,” Martin said nervously.
Sylar might not have done this before, but he had a good understanding of the mechanics. He spat on his fingers, then presented his hand to the other. “Spit.” He did, and the combined expectorate was smeared around his hole and over the top of his shaft. He worked a couple fingers within him, watching as his own face reacted to the stimulus - mouth falling open, brows lifting slightly, face relaxing. Sylar couldn’t stand it - he leaned in and kissed him again, hard and demanding, just like the probing of his fingers, working the other man open. The one against the wall groaned.
Sylar lined himself up and pushed inside. He didn’t think he was completely ready, but he didn’t care and he wasn’t sure how to gauge such a thing anyway. He wanted to see the reaction; he wanted to feel himself tight around his own cock. It was incredible. ‘Go fuck yourself’ took on a totally new meaning (‘Thanks, I already have. It was great!’) He took the man’s hips and nudged inside, watching him react and squirm and wriggle in the grip of the telekinesis - uncomfortable and unfamiliar with it, but not quite complaining as Sylar slid himself home.
“Does it hurt?” he asked, not sure if he cared about the answer. No, on second thought, he was sure he didn’t care.
The shape shifter replied, “You could have waited a little longer.”
“I don’t see any reason to be patient.” He started pushing harder, pulling out and slamming back in. The other Sylar put his hands on his shoulders to ride him, figuring out how to rock into the motions even with the odd ability holding him up. He wrapped his long, lean legs around him, drawing them together with every stroke. Sylar - the real Sylar - took the other’s shaft in his hand and started pumping. That made up for everything else. Martin bit his lip, trying to quiet himself.
“No! Let me hear you. I want to hear it all!” He thrust into him faster, reaching his end. Martin obliged by being vocal, moaning as Sylar jerked him off and rammed it home within him at the same time. He came with a drawn out “Ahhh!” Sylar followed a few strokes later with a growl and a final snap of his hips.
They sagged against one another, until the original ran his hand into the other’s hair and pulled his head back. Lids heavy, Martin did nothing. Sylar grinned loosely at him. “There’s just one more thing I want from you…” Cock still buried in his own ass, he leaned in, the intensity of his expression becoming overwhelming. He got to hear several more fascinating noises ripped from his throat before he was done.
As Sylar walked out of the alley, Danko turned and gave him an assessing look, as before. This was the original. He relaxed. “So,” the bald man asked, “Are you a good lay?”
“I am a spectacular lay, as a matter of fact,” Sylar said proudly. He reached out and clapped Danko on the shoulder, his fingertips brushing his neck. Danko pulled back just a little, and then a moment later there were two of them. The new Danko waggled his eyebrows. “Now let’s go back to your place and find out just how good you are in bed.”
Characters: Sylar, James Martin, Danko
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Dub-con (victim consents, but isn’t in a position to say no), explicit sexual content, off screen murder
Word count: ~2,000
Setting: The episode Into Asylum, from season three, with a tiny tweak to canon.
Summary: Sylar and Danko capture James Martin. Rather than kill him right away, Sylar has something he wants to explore first - something that he’s wondered about for years now.
Notes: This was written for the January 2011 Heroes kinkmeme thread and I’ve only now realized I never posted it to my LJ. It also works as background for the Shattered Salvation AU.
A man who looked like Sylar walked up to Danko and stood next to him quietly. Danko gave him an assessing glance. It was all he needed. The body language was all wrong on this one. That wasn’t Sylar.
Danko said loudly, to carry over the music, “I lost him.”
The other man looked blankly surprised for a moment, then agreed, “Me too.”
Danko nodded - definitely not Sylar. “I guess he’s gone, for good this time.” He waited a beat and then turned to leave. “Let’s go.”
The imposter didn’t move at first and Danko didn’t look back. He just walked out. As soon as he thought his target was out the door though, he drew his gun and spun, but he didn’t pull the trigger. Behind James Martin was the real Sylar, one hand on the back of Martin’s neck and the other on his wrist, twisting a gun out of his hand. Well, Danko reflected, Sylar might have just saved my life. Or maybe not - hard to tell if I would have plugged the freak first. Well, one of the freaks.
Sylar drug the man into the nearby alley. For an alley, it was relatively clean. The imposter made a whimpering noise that was absolutely delicious. Sylar pulled him into the darkest shadows and paused there, throwing aside the gun.
Danko, who had followed at a slight distance, asked, “You going to take his ability?”
Sylar looked at Danko and chuckled, holding a mirror image of himself to the brick. “Maybe. Now go back to the mouth of the alley and keep watch. I don’t want to be disturbed, no matter what you hear.” He leered at him, then looked back at the shape shifter.
Danko followed his eyes. It’s not like I didn’t know Sylar was the freakiest freak out there. He chuckled and purred, “Take as long as you need.” He knew what was about to happen. In a similar situation, he probably wouldn’t do the same thing, but he didn’t begrudge anyone their once-in-a-lifetime fantasies.
The two Sylars watched Danko leave, then the more timid asked, “Wh-what are you going to do to me?”
The other Sylar looked at his mouth for a long moment. He smiled, then pursed his lips slightly, then smiled again, mouth hanging slightly open.
“Oh,” the one against the wall squeaked.
“I ran into someone once with an ability very, very much like yours and she made me the most,” he leaned in and breathed his words into the other man’s ear, “interesting offer.”
The man against the wall nodded, breathing harder himself. “Yeah … yeah.”
Sylar leaned back enough to see his own face looking back at him, no longer nearly so frightened. This was something James could deal with, and that was what Sylar had so hoped to see. “Yes?” he asked.
The shape shifter nodded, but his eyes darted to the entrance to the alley. “What about him?”
“Make me happy enough and I’ll deal with him.” He wasn’t promising anything. He was just implying and leaving it up to Martin to fill in the gaps - inaccurately, most likely, but Sylar didn’t care - not as long as he got what he wanted out of this.
And it certainly looked like he would. The shape shifter reached out and touched Sylar’s sides, sliding his shirt out and then running hesitant, exploring fingers underneath. Sylar grinned, watching himself seduce himself. He couldn’t stop smiling, even when the other version of him stood up a little straighter to match him and kissed him, hard and sloppily.
He pulled his head back and said playfully, “Hey, I’m a better kisser than that! Watch, and learn.” He brought his head in more slowly, slightly tilted, and brushed his lips. He finally got rid of that manic grin and relaxed his mouth, which softened his lips. The other man started to kiss back - again, too hard, too fast - and Sylar pulled back, saying, “Uh-uh.”
He repeated - another brush of lips, then a little firmer, moving his mouth to massage against him lightly. He brought up his hands and ran one behind the false Sylar’s head and used his other hand to caress his stubble-graced cheek. Now, he was really starting to sex himself. He pressed his lips more firmly against a mouth that should have been familiar, but was like no one he’d ever kissed before. He tasted the same though - slipping his tongue out to probe against the other man’s lips proved that. It also proved that Martin really liked it, because he moaned deep in his throat and ran his hands around to Sylar’s back, drawing him closer against him.
It had been the whimper that had turned Sylar’s thoughts this way, earlier. Hearing that sound come out of what looked so much like his body had made him suddenly wild with the desire to hear other sounds. What did he sound like when he came? What did he look like? What did he feel like, clenching around someone’s shaft?
He kissed him more passionately, grinding his pelvis against the other man. Both were hard, breathing fast and hands were starting to roam elsewhere, pulling out clothes, unfastening jeans and pushing them down. Sylar wasn’t sure what he was going to get here, but a moment later his alter-ego dropped to his knees and pulled him out. Sylar put one hand against the rough brick and ran the other into the man’s hair. He was about to get sucked off looking into his own face. Oh how I want to remember this forever!
Sylar, himself, didn’t have much experience giving head. In fact, if you didn’t count that embarrassing incident when he was a kid, none at all. James Martin, on the other hand, was proficient and enthusiastic. He sucked in Sylar’s rigid cock, tilting it down and pulling it into his mouth. He let the head rub against his palette while his tongue worked the underside, eliciting an immediate, lusty growl of approval.
Martin wrapped one hand around the base of the organ while his other hand began to stroke his own dick. He was great at it, but nothing beat the sheer fucked-up pleasure of looking down and watching yourself polish your own knob. Sylar worked his fist into that hair, feeling it silky under his fingers, thinking this was what his lovers would see if he ever took a man as one, and if he deigned to get on his knees for one of them. There was a certain humor in the face that his first male/male encounter would be with himself. Martin’s skilled tongue was driving him mad. He jerked the other man back, watching him wince and listening to him grunt. He wouldn’t have minded coming in his mouth, but he wanted the combo platter tonight - not just a single entree.
“Get your pants off.”
The other man looked up and down the alley apprehensively.
“My friend’s keeping us private. Pants off,” he said with a warning edge to his voice, reminding the shape shifter which of them was in charge. The subordinate Sylar nodded and stripped. The dominant said, “Good. Now, you have a power - and I have a power.” With that, he brought his telekinesis around the other man’s thighs and buttocks, lifting him, tilting the legs, supporting his weight and letting him hang in the air in front of him, only a few inches higher than he had been.
“Whoa,” Martin said nervously.
Sylar might not have done this before, but he had a good understanding of the mechanics. He spat on his fingers, then presented his hand to the other. “Spit.” He did, and the combined expectorate was smeared around his hole and over the top of his shaft. He worked a couple fingers within him, watching as his own face reacted to the stimulus - mouth falling open, brows lifting slightly, face relaxing. Sylar couldn’t stand it - he leaned in and kissed him again, hard and demanding, just like the probing of his fingers, working the other man open. The one against the wall groaned.
Sylar lined himself up and pushed inside. He didn’t think he was completely ready, but he didn’t care and he wasn’t sure how to gauge such a thing anyway. He wanted to see the reaction; he wanted to feel himself tight around his own cock. It was incredible. ‘Go fuck yourself’ took on a totally new meaning (‘Thanks, I already have. It was great!’) He took the man’s hips and nudged inside, watching him react and squirm and wriggle in the grip of the telekinesis - uncomfortable and unfamiliar with it, but not quite complaining as Sylar slid himself home.
“Does it hurt?” he asked, not sure if he cared about the answer. No, on second thought, he was sure he didn’t care.
The shape shifter replied, “You could have waited a little longer.”
“I don’t see any reason to be patient.” He started pushing harder, pulling out and slamming back in. The other Sylar put his hands on his shoulders to ride him, figuring out how to rock into the motions even with the odd ability holding him up. He wrapped his long, lean legs around him, drawing them together with every stroke. Sylar - the real Sylar - took the other’s shaft in his hand and started pumping. That made up for everything else. Martin bit his lip, trying to quiet himself.
“No! Let me hear you. I want to hear it all!” He thrust into him faster, reaching his end. Martin obliged by being vocal, moaning as Sylar jerked him off and rammed it home within him at the same time. He came with a drawn out “Ahhh!” Sylar followed a few strokes later with a growl and a final snap of his hips.
They sagged against one another, until the original ran his hand into the other’s hair and pulled his head back. Lids heavy, Martin did nothing. Sylar grinned loosely at him. “There’s just one more thing I want from you…” Cock still buried in his own ass, he leaned in, the intensity of his expression becoming overwhelming. He got to hear several more fascinating noises ripped from his throat before he was done.
As Sylar walked out of the alley, Danko turned and gave him an assessing look, as before. This was the original. He relaxed. “So,” the bald man asked, “Are you a good lay?”
“I am a spectacular lay, as a matter of fact,” Sylar said proudly. He reached out and clapped Danko on the shoulder, his fingertips brushing his neck. Danko pulled back just a little, and then a moment later there were two of them. The new Danko waggled his eyebrows. “Now let’s go back to your place and find out just how good you are in bed.”