Heroes Fan Fiction ❯ Dramatic Irony ❯ Beautifully Twisted ( Chapter 1 )

"It's revenge," Mohinder said, sneering at the man strapped to the metal chair before him. Walking around the man he stood behind him, leaning down and whispering right against the man's ear, "And it's going to Hurt." He would avenge his father, of that he was sure. The sneer that had planted itself on his face only grew bitterer with every passing millisecond he spent next to the evil man's ear.

 

Sylar shuddered, feeling every wave of sound as Mohinder's voice entered his ear canal. Why did he have to say it like that? He had to admit, his run as Zane, though short lived, was not unenjoyable. "What did you have in mind?" he asked, all Gabriel. What could he say? Gabriel liked being controlled as much as Sylar loved to control. They don't call it an alter-ego for nothing.

 

"Oh, you'll see..." Mohinder smirked and stepped back around the chair and leaned in close, his lips centimeters from Sylar's "You'll see." He left Sylar sitting there and moved to his desk, pulling something from a drawer that glinted ominously even in the darkness of the room.

 

Sylar stared at the ceiling, wondering when he should tell Mohinder, or more appealingly show him, that the I.V. had ceased to affect him. When Mohinder leaned in close he had to suppress the smirk that threatened to spread. So this was how the geneticist wanted to play? He would just have to pretend a little while longer. He insisted that this was for pure amusement, but Gabriel was already pointing out his weaknesses faster than Sylar could stop-- "Please," Gabriel hissed. It angered Sylar, to be bested like this by someone who he had thought he could leave behind. "Save me." It was the ghost of a sound, and it chilled Sylar to the bone.

 

"Save you? ...I don't think so." With a huge syringe in one hand and a small scalpel in the other, Mohinder stalked over to where Sylar was sitting. "If anything, I'll make you beg to keep your life. One without the stolen powers of others, I can assure you."

 

Sylar's brown eyes snapped up to meet Mohinder's. Make me beg, Gabriel thought, almost surprised when Sylar didn't allow the words to pass his lips. He looked to the scalpel and gave a slight inhalation, remembering the times before the telekinesis. He had to use his own hands, and it made him sick slightly, not that he could ever admit that. No, he was Sylar, the diabolical supervillian. He didn't squick at blood. Especially not his own.

 

Mohinder waved the scalpel close to Sylar's face, moving it downward, cutting into the collar of the ever-present Ramones tee-shirt. "How do you feel right now?" Putting his hand over Sylar's heart, feeling the beat, every so slightly disappointed that it wasn't erratic with fear as his would have been. Mohinder continued with the scalpel, continuing to run it down the shirt until it ran into the waistband of Sylar's pants.

 

Sylar felt himself becoming hard even as he tried desperately to quash it. How did he feel? How do I feel? He felt, "Aroused," he said honestly, if a bit breathlessly. He knew he couldn't hide behind Zane forever, but he knew how it would affect the Indian, to have this man who Mohinder had trusted splayed all over Sylar's face. The muscles were trained to know just how to pose his face to mimic fear, widening his eyes just that little bit, giving his expression that pleading edge. He could already feel Mohinder cracking and he knew he wouldn't even need the telekinesis.

 

Mohinder was caught off guard, and there was certainly no way he could hide it. He never was very good at that. The hand with the syringe twitched and he dropped it. He couldn't do this. Dropping the scalpel he leaned in and smashed his mouth against Sylar's in a confusing act of defiance and anger. How dare he destroy his resolve so quickly? His father's murder deserved more respect and concentration than this. Before Sylar could even return his confusing kiss he pulled away.

 

Sylar certainly wasn't expecting to get to Mohinder so quickly, and he quickly found himself fighting down another evil smirk. The scientist was such easy prey, but prey he never tired of. Then he did smile, wolfishly. The act made his lips tingle from the kiss, if it could really be called that. "Ouch," he mocked, voice husky and ragged with real lust, even if most of this was an act. Of course it's an act.

 

That was it. Mohinder picked the syringe up and moved to stand behind Sylar. "Fuck. You," was all he managed to whisper before shoving the syringe into Sylar's spinal cord and sucking up precious DNA.

 

The needle sunk through his skin and into his spine much faster than the pain receptors in his body could register. But when they did, they didn't skimp. He screamed and screamed like he knew Mohinder wanted him to. It should have bothered him that he was giving the dark man the satisfaction, but it really truly didn't. He had full use of his telekinesis. He could do anything he wanted. That alone gave him the power he wanted without having to appear a certain way. The Zane face dropped like a hat.

 

Mohinder couldn't help the blood that surged straight to his cock at the screams. He'd never think that they would arouse him. As much as he'd tried to deny it, Mohinder had become attracted to "Zane" and the sound of that voice screaming was horribly erotic in every sense. Fighting with his urge to ravage the lying murdering psycho in front of him, Mohinder picked up the scalpel and placated his urges by merely cutting the other man's clothes off. His hands shaking, he started as close to Sylar's- was that an erection? Was Sylar actually turned on by this as much as he was?

 

Sylar bucked towards Mohinder's hand, trying to slow his breathing and control his arousal. The jerk caused the scalpel to nick his skin, blood falling sluggishly toward his cock. He squirmed, he bit his lip. No way did Mohinder have the right to do this to him.

 

 

Mohinder smirked, unable to restrain himself. "Do you like that?" He leaned in, pushing the scalpel farther into the tiny hairline scratch as his lips grazed Sylar's. "Is this how you feel when you kill people?" His cock hardened even more at how powerful he felt just from that tiny bit of pressure on the steel in his hand. He couldn't help but lick a trail from the juncture of neck and shoulder up to Sylar's ear. "Do you like the pain?" he whispered, nipping at the earlobe.

 

 

Sylar drew in a shallow breath, not allowing himself to look away from Mohinder. He played out killing the scientist before him, using his telekinesis to unlock these cuffs and throw Mohinder down. Beating him and torturing him until he sang Sylar's name in pretty agony. He could do it all: carve obscene messages into Mohinder's chest, bite and bleed him into oblivion, cut open his skull and watch the horror splayed across those beautiful features. His lips curled as he grew painfully hard. This was better. The realization startled him. He knew he must look manic, but he couldn't allow himself to use his power or this would be over much too soon. He shook his head furiously, allowing fire to come into his irises. "I administer pain," he whispered, not quite an admission, not quite a denial.

 

 

"Like I'm administering pain to you now..." Mohinder whispered and ripped the pants off of Sylar's legs. "You cut them up and you enjoy it" it was more like Mohinder was taking mental notes rather than speaking directly to Sylar. Mohinder ripped open the Ramones shirt and ran the scalpel down his chest's plane, leaving a tiny line of blood down Sylar's chest. Mohinder smiled and licked from the waistband of Sylar's destroyed jeans up the tiny scratch.

 

IhavecontrolIhavecontrol. He was fighting his telekinesis now. Only this time, he entertained no thoughts of killing Mohinder. Not just yet. He just wanted to pull that glorious head closer to his flesh. This was so intimate, and he was losing. He knew he was losing and it didn't matter. It couldn't matter. "Just like I will enjoy cutting you up, Dr. Suresh," Sylar pledged, a cruel smile twisting his countenance inhumanly. "Just like I enjoyed cutting up Daddy Suresh." He bit it out, trying not to give the scientist too much validation. He was here to fuck with Mohinder's head, not to have his brains fucked out. Perhaps there wasn't much difference at this point.

 

 

Mohinder's previously receding anger flared three hundredfold and all he could think of was hurting Sylar, all arousal was gone. The scalpel circled Sylar's left nipple and dug in. Hard. Letting a stream of blood flow down the man's chest while Mohinder unbuttoned and ripped the shredded pants from Sylar's body, revealing in all its splendor his unbelievably hard cock. "So you are enjoying this," Mohinder breathed down Sylar's chest and ghosted his lips down to Sylar's crotch, only to move his head away at the last second, replacing it with the scalpel, holding it millimeters from the cloth-clad head of Sylar's penis.

 

Sylar gave a strangled noise in the back of his throat as the scalpel dug into his chest. He couldn't help but feel satisfied. He had everything on Mohinder right now. He could just get up and walk away. That would probably hurt the geneticist more than any torture he could inflict, but he was having too much fun. He feigned the smallest touch of anxiety, shrinking himself to the back of the chair, carefully avoiding the blade. "Don't I deserve salvation, Mohinder," he cried, tapping into his Zane voice without flaw. He was always without flaw, he preened. "You save all the others, but leave me by the wayside. I'm hurt." And it's an effort, but his twisted smile returns to a drawn line. He's shaking in anticipation, but it must look like fear.

 

Mohinder faltered again, the scalpel twitching and getting dangerously close to the tent in Sylar's one remaining scrap of cloth. He steeled himself and tossed the scalpel aside, literally ripping the boxers from Sylar. He thought the fewer clothes Sylar had on, the more psychological advantage he could gain over the murderer. He didn't think that he could be so aroused, and it still astounded him that Sylar's bleeding and all the control he had over the other man had him so hot, but what he was concentrating most on was how to make Sylar as scared and vulnerable as Mohinder had let himself become while "Zane" lied to him each and every day.

 

"Well, go on then," Sylar challenged. "Do it." His shaking has become horrendously out-of-control, and is that a tear sliding down his cheek? He really did astound himself when he employed Gabriel's acting skill. He wants the darker man so much, too much. It's like a pull from underneath his skin. He feels exposed, but in the most glamorous of ways. He loves that Mohinder still has all his clothes on. Oh, how he'll enjoy taking them off later. "You know you want to hurt me, Mohinder. After all, you have every reason to..." He could even manufacture guilt. He amazed himself, truly.

 

With wide eyes and hands faster than his common-sense, Mohinder unstrapped Sylar from the chair and pushed him onto the ground, promptly straddling the naked man, rubbing his hips against Sylar's cock. "Do you want this?" he bucked his hips, digging his pelvis into Sylar's. "Answer me. Do you want it?" He pushed his lips to Sylar's and forced his tongue into the other man's mouth, dominating and abusing Sylar. With every swipe of the man's eager tongue Mohinder dug his pelvic bones deeper into the other man's, his own cock on fire and suffocating in the material of his pants.

 

"Yess," he rasped out, grinding even harder against Mohinder, biting back a whimper when the sharp pain brought it all into focus. He didn't know how to move his arms as they had been still for so long; they simply lay next to him, useless and heavy. He knew, then, that Mohinder was in control, that he didn't even want to fight it. You have to. He growled, biting Mohinder's lower lip soundly, delighting as the harsh kiss was flooded with the metallic taste. He should have realized Mohinder's weakness for Zane earlier… But then, maybe this wouldn't have such a desperate edge. He was feeding on Mohinder's desperation, allowing it to fuel him until he could get what he wanted. He wasn't sure what that was anymore as their pace became frantic, and Sylar began to fear he might come before Mohinder was in him. And then he came at the realization that it wouldn't matter, because pain and pleasure were the same, and this was as sweet as it was deadly.