(no subject)
FIC FIVE!
Title: Lipstick
Characters/Pairing: Petlar!
Set: Gawd Knows.
Rating/Warnings: Character Death, Blood, Pain!Play, S&M, Slash,
Summary: Pretty. But Missing Something.
A/N: Written for "Lipstick" at "Genre/Slash." My slash comes out as horror, my horror as porn, my porn as fluff, and my fluff as angst. WHAT IS THIS.
“Pretty.”
Sylar’s word was barely spoken, more hissed between his teeth. His hand stretched out and Peter dropped to his knees, crawled forward to Sylar’s chair.
Sylar’s fingers found the long, dark hair, and he entwined himself and tugged. Peter’s eyes flickered closed.
“Look,” Sylar ordered. He slipped his hand to the side of Peter’s face and brushed the back of his hand against the skin as Peter obediently opened his eyes again and dragged them slowly up to Sylar’s own.
“Pretty,” Sylar repeated with a different infliction. “…But missing something.”
His hand clenched around Peter’s jaw tight and sudden, and he twisted the man’s head sharply, cracked his neck. Peter’s body slumped to the ground when he let go.
Sylar spared a second to stare. Peter’s skin was unmarred, as ever. The smooth, pale expanse couldn’t be touched by Sylar, although nowdays it was all Peter begged for. Sylar didn’t miss the fire of his initial anger, the heated passion of Peter’s refusal and fight. He liked having his slave conditioned.
He tilted his head and smiled, twitched his fingers and split Peter’s chest open with a deep cut from sternum to navel. Peter’s blood was slow and sluggish out of the wound, and Sylar leant down to drag his fingers in the coagulated substance. His hands were oxidized red and sticky, and he bent to Peter’s face.
He hovered his hand, and then dipped and let his fingertips skim over Peter’s lips. He dragged his thumb over the bottom one and coated it in the sticky blood, left a deepening red trail. He traced his fingers over the top lip too, lifted in the corner so Peter produced a crooked smile.
He lifted his hand back and ran it through Peter’s long hair, held it back off his face, and watched the cut slowly seal. Wiping the last of the blood among the black strands, he sat back, satisfied, as Peter took his first naked breath all over again.
Peter scrabbled to kneel and bowed his head. Sylar caught his jaw and lifted his face.
“Pretty.”
Peter’s bloodstained and lipsticked mouth smiled.
That end just makes me go FUUUUU-