Fic : September - For Perdiccas
Word count : 1259
Pairing : Sylar/Luke
Rating : PG
Spoilers : None
Notes : For perdiccas - it's her birthday today
Wheels ground over small stones as Sylar and Luke drove on. The sun was half way down and the air was crisp and chilly as they wound through New Hampshire, heading not to, but away
"Leaves are turning." Luke said softly and to no-one. He sighed as he felt the cold cotton jacket he was wearing pull with his movement and cool his skin. He glanced at Sylar and let his gaze linger knowing that he wouldn't return it. They had been on the road for a few weeks and very little had changed. They drove, they slept, they drove. Every now and again Sylar would leave him in the hotel room and come back with an adrenaline burst which would propel him into Luke's bed. They would fuck almost silently, only Luke's slight gasps and whimpers breaking the void. Sometimes afterwards Sylar would stare at him, in what Luke tried not believe was disgust. He would roll over and tense up so that Sylar couldn't see him crying.
***
"What are we doing?" He barely heard Sylar and didn't know whether he was talking to him or not. He rolled over and tried to cuddle up to him, but found himself pushed away and held down on the bed whilst dark eyes drilled into him. After a few seconds Sylar released him and turned away. The only thing Luke could think of was that Sylar had actually looked at him, and for this, he hated himself.
***
As the weeks and months rolled on, Luke could feel himself changing. He stared into the motel room mirror and wondered when he had started to look so old. He tried to smile, to make his dimples appear and make him look seventeen again, but he couldn't bring himself to. That constant sick feeling, the fear and the ecstacy that Sylar gave him, was eating away at his insides. He had neither the inclination or the energy to leave, but sometimes he felt that that would be the only way he could survive.
"Hurry up, we're leaving." Sylar barked at him from the bedroom.
Luke wet his hand and wiped it across the mirror so that he didn't have to look at himself anymore.
***
When they abandoned the latest car are covered it with forest debris Luke cut his hand on some splintered wood. He stared at the two inch gash and felt no pain. He worked on, picking up branches and throwing them onto the car, letting blood run out of the cut, letting dirt run in. When Sylar finally saw it he grabbed his hand and examined it, finally dropping it and spitting that Luke should be more careful.
"We can't go to a damn hospital so stop being so careless." He said as he stalked off. Luke jogged off after him and didn't look at his hand again until he was instructed to clean it in the bathroom of the next Holiday Inn. The blood had dried and crusted and the cut started to bleed again once it was washed. Luke wrapped it in a washcloth and crawled into bed silently. After a few minutes Sylar asked if it was clean and Luke replied that it was.
"Be more careful. Like I told you."
Luke nodded although he knew Sylar couldn't see him. He still felt no pain.
***
Luke heard their shouts, saw them starting to run towards him. The sound echoed in his head and he relaxed, letting his eyes lose focus. He took a breath, and closed his eyes, arms slightly raised by his side, palms glowing to make them come. This was it. He was going to die, and it couldn't come quick enough. He heard them fire, real bullets for the one who could be killed by them. He waited, knowing he wouldn't feel any pain.
***
"----doing, oh my God, oh my God, what were you doing? For Christ's sake, what were you doing? They had you. They almost had you and you didn't move, what were you doing? Jesus fuck--"
Luke gasped as he came to. He was standing on tired legs and holding onto Sylar's warm body for dear life in their damp motel room. "I....I..."
Sylar gripped him and pushed him to arm's length. He wasn't crying but his eyes were wet and he had a look that Luke had never seen before, one of shock and concern. "You could have been killed, why did you just stand there?"
Luke tried to recall the feeling of being so close to death but it was clouded by the old familiar cold rush in the stomach. It wasn't over. It was all still happening, him and Sylar, being alone, being hated and fucked and not being able to come to terms with either. "I wanted it. I wanted to go, I was ready for it." He croaked, throat dry and sore.
Sylar shook his head in disbelief. "You're only seventeen. How can you be ready to die?"
Luke looked at him, sure he was crazy. "I'm not seventeen. Seventeen year olds play video games and sneak out of the house to drink beer. Seventeen year olds go to prom and get an allowance and...." He stopped, realising that this was more than he had said in the last four months. "What happened? Why am I still here?"
Wordlessly, Sylar hugged him, letting his fingers stroke through his hair. "I killed them all. I stopped their bullets and sent them back where they came from. Then you collapsed and I brought you back here, for God's sake I almost lost you."
"Why did you save me? I would have been gone, you hate me."
Just a squeeze in return. "I don't. I saved you because......Because you're mine and no-one is going to take you from me."
Luke let go, sobbing into Sylar's chest. "I can't do this anymore, I can't be like this, please, you should have let me go. I can't be like this, please. I'm nothing, I hate myself and I can't live like this anymore with you treating me this way just so you can have me and prove a point. You should have let me go because.....I can't live like this with you, and I can't live without you either."
Sylar let him go and walked to the bed, sitting heavily. He stared at Luke, his lip twitching as if he was having a conversation too loud to stay in his head. After what seemed like hours he gave a shallow nod. "I can be different. I can treat you better. I can do that, it's not difficult. You shouldn't let me get away with it." Apparently considering the discussion over, Sylar opened his arms and beckoned him closer.
Luke walked purposefully towards him and collapsed into his lap, accepting the hug. "I'm helpless with you. You can take advantage of that, but don't, please."
They sat in silence for a while before Sylar shifted and squeezed him tighter. "It's your birthday next week. What shall we do?"
Nuzzling Sylar's neck, Luke shrugged. "Pizza?"
Sylar gave a weak laugh and pressed his lips against Luke's cheek without kissing him. "Sure. I can do that."
They both sat, staring at the fogged window and watching as the condensation started to crystallise. The moon hung there, bigger than it should be, and when they both shivered, Sylar rolled them onto the bed and pulled a blanket over them. Luke hugged him, and when he hugged back, he smiled, his dimples appearing for the first time that year.
Pairing : Sylar/Luke
Rating : PG
Spoilers : None
Notes : For perdiccas - it's her birthday today
Wheels ground over small stones as Sylar and Luke drove on. The sun was half way down and the air was crisp and chilly as they wound through New Hampshire, heading not to, but away
"Leaves are turning." Luke said softly and to no-one. He sighed as he felt the cold cotton jacket he was wearing pull with his movement and cool his skin. He glanced at Sylar and let his gaze linger knowing that he wouldn't return it. They had been on the road for a few weeks and very little had changed. They drove, they slept, they drove. Every now and again Sylar would leave him in the hotel room and come back with an adrenaline burst which would propel him into Luke's bed. They would fuck almost silently, only Luke's slight gasps and whimpers breaking the void. Sometimes afterwards Sylar would stare at him, in what Luke tried not believe was disgust. He would roll over and tense up so that Sylar couldn't see him crying.
***
"What are we doing?" He barely heard Sylar and didn't know whether he was talking to him or not. He rolled over and tried to cuddle up to him, but found himself pushed away and held down on the bed whilst dark eyes drilled into him. After a few seconds Sylar released him and turned away. The only thing Luke could think of was that Sylar had actually looked at him, and for this, he hated himself.
***
As the weeks and months rolled on, Luke could feel himself changing. He stared into the motel room mirror and wondered when he had started to look so old. He tried to smile, to make his dimples appear and make him look seventeen again, but he couldn't bring himself to. That constant sick feeling, the fear and the ecstacy that Sylar gave him, was eating away at his insides. He had neither the inclination or the energy to leave, but sometimes he felt that that would be the only way he could survive.
"Hurry up, we're leaving." Sylar barked at him from the bedroom.
Luke wet his hand and wiped it across the mirror so that he didn't have to look at himself anymore.
***
When they abandoned the latest car are covered it with forest debris Luke cut his hand on some splintered wood. He stared at the two inch gash and felt no pain. He worked on, picking up branches and throwing them onto the car, letting blood run out of the cut, letting dirt run in. When Sylar finally saw it he grabbed his hand and examined it, finally dropping it and spitting that Luke should be more careful.
"We can't go to a damn hospital so stop being so careless." He said as he stalked off. Luke jogged off after him and didn't look at his hand again until he was instructed to clean it in the bathroom of the next Holiday Inn. The blood had dried and crusted and the cut started to bleed again once it was washed. Luke wrapped it in a washcloth and crawled into bed silently. After a few minutes Sylar asked if it was clean and Luke replied that it was.
"Be more careful. Like I told you."
Luke nodded although he knew Sylar couldn't see him. He still felt no pain.
***
Luke heard their shouts, saw them starting to run towards him. The sound echoed in his head and he relaxed, letting his eyes lose focus. He took a breath, and closed his eyes, arms slightly raised by his side, palms glowing to make them come. This was it. He was going to die, and it couldn't come quick enough. He heard them fire, real bullets for the one who could be killed by them. He waited, knowing he wouldn't feel any pain.
***
"----doing, oh my God, oh my God, what were you doing? For Christ's sake, what were you doing? They had you. They almost had you and you didn't move, what were you doing? Jesus fuck--"
Luke gasped as he came to. He was standing on tired legs and holding onto Sylar's warm body for dear life in their damp motel room. "I....I..."
Sylar gripped him and pushed him to arm's length. He wasn't crying but his eyes were wet and he had a look that Luke had never seen before, one of shock and concern. "You could have been killed, why did you just stand there?"
Luke tried to recall the feeling of being so close to death but it was clouded by the old familiar cold rush in the stomach. It wasn't over. It was all still happening, him and Sylar, being alone, being hated and fucked and not being able to come to terms with either. "I wanted it. I wanted to go, I was ready for it." He croaked, throat dry and sore.
Sylar shook his head in disbelief. "You're only seventeen. How can you be ready to die?"
Luke looked at him, sure he was crazy. "I'm not seventeen. Seventeen year olds play video games and sneak out of the house to drink beer. Seventeen year olds go to prom and get an allowance and...." He stopped, realising that this was more than he had said in the last four months. "What happened? Why am I still here?"
Wordlessly, Sylar hugged him, letting his fingers stroke through his hair. "I killed them all. I stopped their bullets and sent them back where they came from. Then you collapsed and I brought you back here, for God's sake I almost lost you."
"Why did you save me? I would have been gone, you hate me."
Just a squeeze in return. "I don't. I saved you because......Because you're mine and no-one is going to take you from me."
Luke let go, sobbing into Sylar's chest. "I can't do this anymore, I can't be like this, please, you should have let me go. I can't be like this, please. I'm nothing, I hate myself and I can't live like this anymore with you treating me this way just so you can have me and prove a point. You should have let me go because.....I can't live like this with you, and I can't live without you either."
Sylar let him go and walked to the bed, sitting heavily. He stared at Luke, his lip twitching as if he was having a conversation too loud to stay in his head. After what seemed like hours he gave a shallow nod. "I can be different. I can treat you better. I can do that, it's not difficult. You shouldn't let me get away with it." Apparently considering the discussion over, Sylar opened his arms and beckoned him closer.
Luke walked purposefully towards him and collapsed into his lap, accepting the hug. "I'm helpless with you. You can take advantage of that, but don't, please."
They sat in silence for a while before Sylar shifted and squeezed him tighter. "It's your birthday next week. What shall we do?"
Nuzzling Sylar's neck, Luke shrugged. "Pizza?"
Sylar gave a weak laugh and pressed his lips against Luke's cheek without kissing him. "Sure. I can do that."
They both sat, staring at the fogged window and watching as the condensation started to crystallise. The moon hung there, bigger than it should be, and when they both shivered, Sylar rolled them onto the bed and pulled a blanket over them. Luke hugged him, and when he hugged back, he smiled, his dimples appearing for the first time that year.