Transgress
Title : Transgress
Word count : 1155
Rating : NC17
Notes : For the lukexsylar community challenge
There are so many rules. Even for a seventeen year old who’s been contending with do and do not from all quarters; from Mom, school, the police. So many rules, and so many punishments if they aren’t followed.
Sylar had rules for everything. Luke tried to categorise them to help his memory. There were car rules. No singing to the radio, no playing with the radio, no kicking the dashboard, no tapping on the inside of the door. Always wear a seatbelt.
When he had broken the first of the car rules and tunelessly joined in with a Bon Jovi song on the radio, Sylar had turned it off and pulled over calmly. “Get out”.
Luke shifted as the light burns on his ass began to itch. They would be healed within a week, just heat burns from being made to drop his pants and lean against the sun-heated metal of the hood of the car. “Let the punishment fit the crime” Sylar had said that night as he had smoothed lotion on the red strips across his skin and kissed them better.
There were social rules. Luke was not to imply to strangers that he and Sylar were in any kind of relationship. Luke was not to try and touch Sylar in any way in public. Luke was not to address him as anything but Sylar.
He had broken the third rule when they had stopped for gas and Sylar had acquiesced to his request for a can of coke. “Thanks sweetie.” He had joked as they wandered back to the car. Sylar had not responded until hours later when the door had closed on their motel room and the curtains had been pulled roughly, blocking the light. Luke had found himself face down on the bed with his clothes ripped off and his wrists tied to the headboard as Sylar spanked him. “What’s my name?” he had yelled with every rise of his hand. Luke had called it out as he finally came, quivering under the rush of pleasure from pain.
There were motel room rules. Luke was to keep to his bed, or the floor depending on his luck. Luke was to use one towel when he showered. He was to rinse out the bathtub and leave no puddles of water on the bathroom floor. Should he be allowed to sleep in Sylar’s bed he had to be clean, scrubbed and dry. Luke had broken the third rule after he had been rescued from the government men. When the adrenaline subsided he was hit by exhaustion and had flopped down onto the only bed as soon as he’d entered the room. Sylar had heaved him off the bed and thrown him into the bathroom to shower despite Luke barely being able to stand. He had fallen asleep in the bathtub and woke to find himself squeaky clean, dry and dressed in one of Sylar’s spare tshirts as the man slept soundly beside him. His punishment was to fear what Sylar would do to him when they woke, but that consequence never came. A temporary reprieve.
And then of course, there were sex rules. Luke was to do exactly as he was told. He was not to attempt to initiate sex. Sylar had never had to make a rule about Luke’s consent as he had always given it, but there was a safe word; “wait”. Sylar had chosen the safe word, and Luke eventually realised the thinking behind it. It wasn’t stop, or no for a reason. It was wait because eventually Sylar would always get what he wanted. The first time Sylar had fucked him he had said it three times before nodding gently and crying out in pain as he continued. The morning after Luke had been so sore he couldn’t walk or eat easily. For reasons unknown to himself he had cried in the bathroom, trying to keep quiet and not quite succeeding.
When they drove on that day, Luke had asked for his own rules. “If we’re going to do this, I think I should be able to make rules too.” He had piped up. “Like, if you hurt me you have to let me get better, you have to warn me it’s going to hurt, and we have to have a word that means never, not just later.” His heart was racing as he expected to be tipped out of the moving car and left on the roadside.
“Fine.” Sylar had said quietly. At that night’s motel he had pulled Luke into the shower with him rather than dowsing him with cold water. He had silently soaped him down, frowning at the scars he found which he hadn’t made. When Luke was dry and settled in bed, still with stomach cramps, Sylar had gone out and returned with Tylenol for him, tossing them onto the bed as if they were an after thought.
They had been lying side by side, lights off and blankets pulled when Sylar suddenly spoke. “I didn’t hurt you on purpose.” He said. Luke replied “I know” and was surprised when Sylar threw an arm over him and held him close as they fell asleep. The next day he realised that Sylar had known he was lying.
The second time, Sylar didn’t use the word fucked. He lay Luke down, ghosting his fingers over every accessible inch of his skin and following with kisses and glances of his tongue until Luke begged for him. The pain was replaced by a feeling of fullness and satisfaction as Sylar entered him slowly. He was so gentle that Luke fell apart completely afterwards, sobbing into Sylar’s shoulder as he remembered every worshipful touch, every sweet moan and dazed utterance of “yes” and “beautiful”. When they slept beside each other this time, it was almost as equals.
“Can I have one more rule?” Luke had asked.
“What?”
“Never leave me.”
Sylar had just kissed his head and gathered him into his arms, stroking his back as they fell asleep.
Now as Luke sat in the abandoned diner, looking up at Sylar with tears drying on his face, he was more confused than ever. His heart had leapt at the first sight of him but now he wondered whether he was back here just to kill him. Sylar strode towards him and reached out to pull him to his feet. From the diner to the car and the car to the motel, they said nothing. It wasn’t until they were back in each others arms, sated and snatching their breaths back that Luke dared speak. “Why did you come back for me?”
Sylar wouldn’t meet his gaze, instead holding him and focusing somewhere in the middle distance, searching his thoughts for an answer to the question he had not yet satisfied in his own mind. Eventually he pulled the blanket over them and sighed, defeated. “You made a rule.”
Word count : 1155
Rating : NC17
Notes : For the lukexsylar community challenge
There are so many rules. Even for a seventeen year old who’s been contending with do and do not from all quarters; from Mom, school, the police. So many rules, and so many punishments if they aren’t followed.
Sylar had rules for everything. Luke tried to categorise them to help his memory. There were car rules. No singing to the radio, no playing with the radio, no kicking the dashboard, no tapping on the inside of the door. Always wear a seatbelt.
When he had broken the first of the car rules and tunelessly joined in with a Bon Jovi song on the radio, Sylar had turned it off and pulled over calmly. “Get out”.
Luke shifted as the light burns on his ass began to itch. They would be healed within a week, just heat burns from being made to drop his pants and lean against the sun-heated metal of the hood of the car. “Let the punishment fit the crime” Sylar had said that night as he had smoothed lotion on the red strips across his skin and kissed them better.
There were social rules. Luke was not to imply to strangers that he and Sylar were in any kind of relationship. Luke was not to try and touch Sylar in any way in public. Luke was not to address him as anything but Sylar.
He had broken the third rule when they had stopped for gas and Sylar had acquiesced to his request for a can of coke. “Thanks sweetie.” He had joked as they wandered back to the car. Sylar had not responded until hours later when the door had closed on their motel room and the curtains had been pulled roughly, blocking the light. Luke had found himself face down on the bed with his clothes ripped off and his wrists tied to the headboard as Sylar spanked him. “What’s my name?” he had yelled with every rise of his hand. Luke had called it out as he finally came, quivering under the rush of pleasure from pain.
There were motel room rules. Luke was to keep to his bed, or the floor depending on his luck. Luke was to use one towel when he showered. He was to rinse out the bathtub and leave no puddles of water on the bathroom floor. Should he be allowed to sleep in Sylar’s bed he had to be clean, scrubbed and dry. Luke had broken the third rule after he had been rescued from the government men. When the adrenaline subsided he was hit by exhaustion and had flopped down onto the only bed as soon as he’d entered the room. Sylar had heaved him off the bed and thrown him into the bathroom to shower despite Luke barely being able to stand. He had fallen asleep in the bathtub and woke to find himself squeaky clean, dry and dressed in one of Sylar’s spare tshirts as the man slept soundly beside him. His punishment was to fear what Sylar would do to him when they woke, but that consequence never came. A temporary reprieve.
And then of course, there were sex rules. Luke was to do exactly as he was told. He was not to attempt to initiate sex. Sylar had never had to make a rule about Luke’s consent as he had always given it, but there was a safe word; “wait”. Sylar had chosen the safe word, and Luke eventually realised the thinking behind it. It wasn’t stop, or no for a reason. It was wait because eventually Sylar would always get what he wanted. The first time Sylar had fucked him he had said it three times before nodding gently and crying out in pain as he continued. The morning after Luke had been so sore he couldn’t walk or eat easily. For reasons unknown to himself he had cried in the bathroom, trying to keep quiet and not quite succeeding.
When they drove on that day, Luke had asked for his own rules. “If we’re going to do this, I think I should be able to make rules too.” He had piped up. “Like, if you hurt me you have to let me get better, you have to warn me it’s going to hurt, and we have to have a word that means never, not just later.” His heart was racing as he expected to be tipped out of the moving car and left on the roadside.
“Fine.” Sylar had said quietly. At that night’s motel he had pulled Luke into the shower with him rather than dowsing him with cold water. He had silently soaped him down, frowning at the scars he found which he hadn’t made. When Luke was dry and settled in bed, still with stomach cramps, Sylar had gone out and returned with Tylenol for him, tossing them onto the bed as if they were an after thought.
They had been lying side by side, lights off and blankets pulled when Sylar suddenly spoke. “I didn’t hurt you on purpose.” He said. Luke replied “I know” and was surprised when Sylar threw an arm over him and held him close as they fell asleep. The next day he realised that Sylar had known he was lying.
The second time, Sylar didn’t use the word fucked. He lay Luke down, ghosting his fingers over every accessible inch of his skin and following with kisses and glances of his tongue until Luke begged for him. The pain was replaced by a feeling of fullness and satisfaction as Sylar entered him slowly. He was so gentle that Luke fell apart completely afterwards, sobbing into Sylar’s shoulder as he remembered every worshipful touch, every sweet moan and dazed utterance of “yes” and “beautiful”. When they slept beside each other this time, it was almost as equals.
“Can I have one more rule?” Luke had asked.
“What?”
“Never leave me.”
Sylar had just kissed his head and gathered him into his arms, stroking his back as they fell asleep.
Now as Luke sat in the abandoned diner, looking up at Sylar with tears drying on his face, he was more confused than ever. His heart had leapt at the first sight of him but now he wondered whether he was back here just to kill him. Sylar strode towards him and reached out to pull him to his feet. From the diner to the car and the car to the motel, they said nothing. It wasn’t until they were back in each others arms, sated and snatching their breaths back that Luke dared speak. “Why did you come back for me?”
Sylar wouldn’t meet his gaze, instead holding him and focusing somewhere in the middle distance, searching his thoughts for an answer to the question he had not yet satisfied in his own mind. Eventually he pulled the blanket over them and sighed, defeated. “You made a rule.”