4 Syluke Commentfics
Luke couldn’t work out if Sylar was mad or not. That was the thing with him, he was always kinda mad, even when he was getting his dick sucked, even after he’d just killed someone. Luke tried to remember the last thing he’d said to him, what could have set him off this time. He thought he had pleased him today, he’d been good this morning, done everything he’d been told. He hadn’t whined or complained, but still he was getting the silent treatment. Resting his head on the door frame he tried to get some sleep, hoping that when he woke Sylar would be in a better mood.
When he blinked awake he saw trees cast in a surreal artificial light and realised they were in a parking lot. “Sylar? Where are we?”
“Just follow me quickly or we’ll miss it.”
Luke jumped out the car and jogged after him as he walked purposefully into the trees. There was hardly a light to see by except for the milk-hued moon which hung large in the sky and Luke nearly fell a few times as he struggled to keep up. Suddenly Sylar stopped dead and Luke careered into him, grabbing his hips to stop himself. Sylar turned and sighed, holding out his hand and striding off again when Luke took it.
When they finally came out of the trees Sylar settled himself down on the ground, pulling Luke down to sit between his legs. Luke lifted his head and gasped as Sylar chuckled to himself, cuddling him in the cold morning air. In front of him the Grand Canyon began to fill with yellow light, the rock thrown into dramatic relief by the receding shadows. Luke stared at the majesty of it, squeezing Sylar’s thighs softly in place of words.
“So is it everything you thought it would be?”
“I can’t believe you remembered.” Seeing the Grand Canyon at sunrise was one of the things Luke had rambled about wanting to do before he died, never thinking for a second that Sylar was actually listening to him.
Sylar held him tighter, one hand on his gently rising and falling chest and one holding Luke’s hand, stroking his long fingers absently. “Beautiful, just beautiful.” He said, hoping Luke would think he was talking about the view.
#2 Anonymous Gifts
It started, as so many things do, with a kiss. A Hershey’s Kiss to be exact. Sylar had stared at it for a while before eating it in one go, wondering how it might have got onto the seat of the car. It had gone out of his mind by the time Luke got back from the gas station bathroom.
The next day Sylar glanced across at him, noticing that he was wearing the t-shirt he’d picked up for him at the last diner. It was white with a cartoon of a dancing hotdog and the statement ‘Best Wieners in five states’. Luke’s other tshirt had a tear from where he’d been hit with the tazer and Sylar had seen him looking at it despondently the day before. He had thanked him for leaving the shirt in the motel wardrobe, but Sylar had claimed it wasn’t him. “It must have been left behind, I’m not your mother, I don’t do your clothes shopping.” Luke had just smiled knowingly.
Sylar was a clean freak, Luke had noticed. He was happy to be covered in someone else’s blood but when they arrived in a motel room which seemed to not have been cleaned properly he would get irritated and not be able to sleep. Luke looked up to see Sylar’s face as he found the multi-purpose cleaner in the nightstand. Was that an actual smile? He’d not seen Sylar smile since the first time they met but now he was positively beaming. “Stroke of luck.” He said, spraying some on the headboard and grinning at the grime that came up when he attacked it with some screwed up toilet paper.
Luke blinked awake, the only light coming from the flashing Vacancies sign outside their window. He felt warm lips on his neck, and a gentle hand on his waist. “Sylar?” he asked, wondering if he was dreaming.
“Oh…I was hoping you wouldn’t guess it was me.” He growled, as his hand moved lower.
#3 Skin
Sylar had put up with Luke’s fidgeting in the car for three hours before they hit a motel he felt was far enough away from the diner. As they walked into the motel room the boy had lifted up his shirt to try and get to the puncture wounds that the tazer guns had made but couldn’t quite reach them. After a few minutes of watching Luke spin round like a dog chasing his tail he held his shoulders and pinned him to the spot.
“Take your shirt off, let me see.”
Luke avoided Sylar’s gaze, shifting uncomfortably and crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m okay, it’s fine.”
Sylar rolled his eyes. “Luke you’re a little past being shy, now either take it of or I’ll rip it off.”
Luke sighed, pulling the shirt over his head and tossing it onto the bed. Sylar twisted him round to look at the wounds on his back. He traced his fingers over the dried blood of the puncture holes and went to the bathroom, returning with some soaked toilet paper. He dabbed at the blood, cleaning it and seeing the pink burned flesh beneath. Luke’s back was a map of acne scars, zits and small round burns. Sylar brushed the imperfect skin as Luke shuddered. When all the blood was cleaned Sylar turned to toss away the wet paper and saw Luke dart for his shirt. “Wait. I’m not done yet. Lie on your stomach on the bed.”
Luke did as he was told, shrugging off his sneakers and folding his hands under his head. Sylar sat on the bed beside him and resumed ghosting his fingers over the damaged skin. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed Luke, these marks are who you are. Every burn, every scar. They’re all you.”
“I hate them. I hate the burns most, I hate that he could do that to me and they’ll last forever.”
Sylar left a chaste kiss between Luke’s shoulder blades. “They’ll fade. It all fades. You just have to let it.”
#4 Our Song
By the time they had stopped laughing there were tears running down both their faces. Sylar’s proposal had been genuine and when Luke heard him say he wanted to be with him for the rest of his life he was dragged back to the first time that Sylar had abandoned him, left to be bagged and tagged by Nathan Petrelli’s goons. Of course he had said yes, but as time had worn on, three years to be exact, and the actual wedding was no closer, they had both realised that maybe the marriage ceremony and associated traditions weren’t really for them.
The focus of their uncontrollable laughter was a wedding planner book, all set out for the happy couple to simply fill in the details of their special day. It was pink, and had ribbons on it. “Where the fuck did you get this?” Luke wiped a tear from his eye as he opened it up.
“They don’t do them for men! Or maybe they do but they certainly don’t sell them outside of the Village.” Sylar joined Luke on the couch and cuddled up to him. “Come on, let’s fill it in and get it over with. Okay, who’s your best man?”
Luke shook his head. “Sylar we don’t have any friends, there aren’t going to be any people there.”
“Okay, well….what’s our song?” Sylar looked up as if the answer was written on the ceiling.
They were both quiet for a moment, thinking. “Well….” Luke began. “No, never mind.”
“What? I’m drawing a complete blank.” Sylar couldn’t even remember the last CD they had bought. Did they even have a CD player?
“Remember when we were on the roadtrip?”
“We roadtrip every year, which one?”
“The first one. There was a song on the radio after you got me from Nathan’s guys, remember?”
Sylar scrunched his forehead, trying to recall and wondering whether Luke would be mad if he couldn’t. “I…..I dunno, tell me.”
Luke started drumming out a rhythm on his legs. “Can’t seem to face up the facts,” he started to sing lazily. “I’m tense and nervous and I can’t relax….”
“I can’t sleep cause my bed’s on fire….Don’t touch me I’m a real live wire.” Sylar joined in and they sang the next line together.
“Psycho killer, qu-est-ce-que c’est….”
They collapsed into giggles as Luke flung the book onto the floor. “You know, I think we’re just going to have to do this our way.”
Sylar stroked Luke’s cheek and looked deep into his eyes, remembering why he had asked him the big question in the first place. “We always do.”
When he blinked awake he saw trees cast in a surreal artificial light and realised they were in a parking lot. “Sylar? Where are we?”
“Just follow me quickly or we’ll miss it.”
Luke jumped out the car and jogged after him as he walked purposefully into the trees. There was hardly a light to see by except for the milk-hued moon which hung large in the sky and Luke nearly fell a few times as he struggled to keep up. Suddenly Sylar stopped dead and Luke careered into him, grabbing his hips to stop himself. Sylar turned and sighed, holding out his hand and striding off again when Luke took it.
When they finally came out of the trees Sylar settled himself down on the ground, pulling Luke down to sit between his legs. Luke lifted his head and gasped as Sylar chuckled to himself, cuddling him in the cold morning air. In front of him the Grand Canyon began to fill with yellow light, the rock thrown into dramatic relief by the receding shadows. Luke stared at the majesty of it, squeezing Sylar’s thighs softly in place of words.
“So is it everything you thought it would be?”
“I can’t believe you remembered.” Seeing the Grand Canyon at sunrise was one of the things Luke had rambled about wanting to do before he died, never thinking for a second that Sylar was actually listening to him.
Sylar held him tighter, one hand on his gently rising and falling chest and one holding Luke’s hand, stroking his long fingers absently. “Beautiful, just beautiful.” He said, hoping Luke would think he was talking about the view.
#2 Anonymous Gifts
It started, as so many things do, with a kiss. A Hershey’s Kiss to be exact. Sylar had stared at it for a while before eating it in one go, wondering how it might have got onto the seat of the car. It had gone out of his mind by the time Luke got back from the gas station bathroom.
The next day Sylar glanced across at him, noticing that he was wearing the t-shirt he’d picked up for him at the last diner. It was white with a cartoon of a dancing hotdog and the statement ‘Best Wieners in five states’. Luke’s other tshirt had a tear from where he’d been hit with the tazer and Sylar had seen him looking at it despondently the day before. He had thanked him for leaving the shirt in the motel wardrobe, but Sylar had claimed it wasn’t him. “It must have been left behind, I’m not your mother, I don’t do your clothes shopping.” Luke had just smiled knowingly.
Sylar was a clean freak, Luke had noticed. He was happy to be covered in someone else’s blood but when they arrived in a motel room which seemed to not have been cleaned properly he would get irritated and not be able to sleep. Luke looked up to see Sylar’s face as he found the multi-purpose cleaner in the nightstand. Was that an actual smile? He’d not seen Sylar smile since the first time they met but now he was positively beaming. “Stroke of luck.” He said, spraying some on the headboard and grinning at the grime that came up when he attacked it with some screwed up toilet paper.
Luke blinked awake, the only light coming from the flashing Vacancies sign outside their window. He felt warm lips on his neck, and a gentle hand on his waist. “Sylar?” he asked, wondering if he was dreaming.
“Oh…I was hoping you wouldn’t guess it was me.” He growled, as his hand moved lower.
#3 Skin
Sylar had put up with Luke’s fidgeting in the car for three hours before they hit a motel he felt was far enough away from the diner. As they walked into the motel room the boy had lifted up his shirt to try and get to the puncture wounds that the tazer guns had made but couldn’t quite reach them. After a few minutes of watching Luke spin round like a dog chasing his tail he held his shoulders and pinned him to the spot.
“Take your shirt off, let me see.”
Luke avoided Sylar’s gaze, shifting uncomfortably and crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m okay, it’s fine.”
Sylar rolled his eyes. “Luke you’re a little past being shy, now either take it of or I’ll rip it off.”
Luke sighed, pulling the shirt over his head and tossing it onto the bed. Sylar twisted him round to look at the wounds on his back. He traced his fingers over the dried blood of the puncture holes and went to the bathroom, returning with some soaked toilet paper. He dabbed at the blood, cleaning it and seeing the pink burned flesh beneath. Luke’s back was a map of acne scars, zits and small round burns. Sylar brushed the imperfect skin as Luke shuddered. When all the blood was cleaned Sylar turned to toss away the wet paper and saw Luke dart for his shirt. “Wait. I’m not done yet. Lie on your stomach on the bed.”
Luke did as he was told, shrugging off his sneakers and folding his hands under his head. Sylar sat on the bed beside him and resumed ghosting his fingers over the damaged skin. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed Luke, these marks are who you are. Every burn, every scar. They’re all you.”
“I hate them. I hate the burns most, I hate that he could do that to me and they’ll last forever.”
Sylar left a chaste kiss between Luke’s shoulder blades. “They’ll fade. It all fades. You just have to let it.”
#4 Our Song
By the time they had stopped laughing there were tears running down both their faces. Sylar’s proposal had been genuine and when Luke heard him say he wanted to be with him for the rest of his life he was dragged back to the first time that Sylar had abandoned him, left to be bagged and tagged by Nathan Petrelli’s goons. Of course he had said yes, but as time had worn on, three years to be exact, and the actual wedding was no closer, they had both realised that maybe the marriage ceremony and associated traditions weren’t really for them.
The focus of their uncontrollable laughter was a wedding planner book, all set out for the happy couple to simply fill in the details of their special day. It was pink, and had ribbons on it. “Where the fuck did you get this?” Luke wiped a tear from his eye as he opened it up.
“They don’t do them for men! Or maybe they do but they certainly don’t sell them outside of the Village.” Sylar joined Luke on the couch and cuddled up to him. “Come on, let’s fill it in and get it over with. Okay, who’s your best man?”
Luke shook his head. “Sylar we don’t have any friends, there aren’t going to be any people there.”
“Okay, well….what’s our song?” Sylar looked up as if the answer was written on the ceiling.
They were both quiet for a moment, thinking. “Well….” Luke began. “No, never mind.”
“What? I’m drawing a complete blank.” Sylar couldn’t even remember the last CD they had bought. Did they even have a CD player?
“Remember when we were on the roadtrip?”
“We roadtrip every year, which one?”
“The first one. There was a song on the radio after you got me from Nathan’s guys, remember?”
Sylar scrunched his forehead, trying to recall and wondering whether Luke would be mad if he couldn’t. “I…..I dunno, tell me.”
Luke started drumming out a rhythm on his legs. “Can’t seem to face up the facts,” he started to sing lazily. “I’m tense and nervous and I can’t relax….”
“I can’t sleep cause my bed’s on fire….Don’t touch me I’m a real live wire.” Sylar joined in and they sang the next line together.
“Psycho killer, qu-est-ce-que c’est….”
They collapsed into giggles as Luke flung the book onto the floor. “You know, I think we’re just going to have to do this our way.”
Sylar stroked Luke’s cheek and looked deep into his eyes, remembering why he had asked him the big question in the first place. “We always do.”