hackthis_archive (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hackthis_archive) wrote2007-03-12 11:14 am
hackthis_archive) wrote2007-03-12 11:14 am
Entry tags:
Heroes -- Laugh? I Nearly Died (Sylar/Mohinder, R)
I'm talking to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
them0rgue this morning and she's all Mo'hotass/Sylar dirty hotel sex... Nathan/Peter... *sighs and sparkly hearts*...what if Peter goes EVIL? And my brain spun around in my skull. The idea of evol!Peter is just too hot to be believed. I would buy that tee shirt. I would fly the flag. I'm not a huge Peter fan, but he's been growing on me, and if he goes evil, I will turn into an evol!Peter/Nathan factory.
That idea has consumed my brain so badly I'll just have to write the Mohinder/Sylar instead. Bet you didn't see that one coming, did you?
Heroes
Sylar/Mohinder
Rated R (general spoilers through 1.18)
Laugh? I Nearly Died
Gabriel does not share well. Wait, that's not true. Gabriel has always shared. He has shared his clothing with his brothers, and shared his space with his father. Gabriel has shared his school lunches with bullies, because he was too small to defend himself, and his brothers said he had to learn how to fight his own fights. He has shared the entire world with people who don't appreciate him and don't like him. He has shared hot water with the entire building where he lives and joint walls that are too thin for apartments and fists and all kinds of things. Gabriel has always shared. Gabriel does nothing but share -- he shares with Sylar. He knows no other way.
*
Sylar is.
That's it. There is no great manifesto. No mind-blowing epiphanies. No Marx, no ubermench, no nothing to explain. Sylar does not explain. Sylar does not share. Sylar does not take seconds or accept defeat. Sylar is not the every man -- Sylar is the only man.
He is the pinnacle of everything.
There is nothing but him.
(Or there won't be if he has his way. Which he will.)
*
Zane is none of the above. Zane is the wolf in sheep's clothing. He is what Gabriel and Sylar make him out to be. Wait, that's not quite true. Sylar has nothing to do with Zane. He finds the whole business tiresome. Zane is Gabriel's invention.
The black tee shirts and white long sleeve shirts -- Gabriel picks eight monochromatic shirts from Zane's bureau while Mohinder is out making room in the trunk for Zane's suitcase –- are all what Gabriel likes. Zane has pictures of pale women with non-existent eyebrows and men with dark eyes on his walls. There are photographs. There are post-its on Zane's mirror to pick up salami and inflate the basketball before the game on Saturday. Zane has sticky magazines in his nightstand and a half-used bottle of Jergens by his lamp. Sylar is appalled. Gabriel observes curiously.
He picks up a faded photograph of a man and woman and sticks in it Zane's duffle bag, They are now Zane's parents. It doesn't matter who they used to be, only who they will be.
Zane can share. He is Gabriel's ubermench after all.
*
Mohinder is dark eyes and shiny hair. He smells -- not unpleasant. He prattles on and on about the weather, and where they are going, and what they are going to do when they get there. In the back of Gabriel's mind, Sylar is picking his teeth with a knife. In the back of Zane's mind, Gabriel is quiet, thoughtful. He smiles when Mohinder offers him half of a Powerbar. He offers money for gas when they stop on the side of the road.
Zane likes The Pixies. Zane likes tee shirts in binary. Zane likes AC/DC. Gabriel knows this because these are the shirts he packed. These are the traits Gabriel has chosen for him.
When The Ramones' 'I Wanna Be Sedated' comes on the radio, Zane looks significantly from Mohinder to the radio, twice. Mohinder smiles. "Be my guest," he says, "I know you like them."
Gabriel doesn't know the words to 'I Wanna Be Sedated'; apparently Zane does.
*
Sylar bides his time. Gabriel bites his bottom lip. Zane leans across the table at the diner and takes a couple of Mohinder's french fries while Mohinder is reading the newspaper. When Mohinder puts the paper down, Zane has three fries sticking out of his mouth. Mohinder just laughs and pushes the tray across the table. "All you had to do was ask."
Zane ducks his head and smiles into the table top. Gabriel takes more notes.
*
Zane is not expecting the separate hotel rooms. Gabriel is relieved at the chance to rest. Sylar flexes his muscles and takes control. He has been subservient for days; it has not been this way since his inception. He is cranky and unhappy. "Acquiring" Dale Smither's ability is like a feast after the famine.
When Sylar is done, he finds himself outside of Mohinder's hotel room, standing there, one hand raised to knock on the door.
Zane shifts from one foot to the other nervously; Gabriel sleeps; Sylar rages. Sylar is not going to lose control of this form to someone who doesn't even exist. He has no interest in Dr. Suresh beyond a basic need. Zane is not going to defile him with some carnal cravings. Absolutely not.
*
Two days later they are in another town. The victim, err, target's name is Matthew Swanson. According to Mohinder's notes, Mr. Swanson is fast. Very fast. Sylar is only marginally interested. This is a new power, yes, but speed would be nothing next to flying. Or teleporting. At this point it is almost like collecting stamps to him. It is nothing like hearing the fluttering of Mohinder's heartbeat when Sylar gets too close to him. Except Mohinder's heartbeat isn't for Sylar -- it's for Zane.
*
That night Mohinder and Zane watch Deal or No Deal on Mohinder's scrambled TV. The picture is awful. One of the color tubes in the TV has to be broken since all the women have blue faces, but Zane is fascinated.
Mohinder sits beside him on the full bed, tapping at his laptop, while Sylar grits his teeth and tries not to think about going deaf. Sylar has no idea when Mohinder starts petting his hair, judging by the boneless quality of his body though, he presumes it's been some time and he was simply unaware. He blames Gabriel. He blames Zane. He's losing control.
Zane will have to go soon. Very soon.
*
Sylar wakes up hot and sweaty. The sheets are stuck to him in odd places, and he feels filthy in a very particular way. He's sore and cramped; he's not wearing a shirt or pants. When warm air brushes against the back of his neck, every hair on his body stands up. There's an arm slung across his waist and a proprietary hand curled around his dick that is very much not his own.
A picture on the wall crashes to the floor next door. And in the room next door to that one. And so on and so forth. Mohinder stirs next to him. "What's that?" he asks sleepily.
Someone who is not Sylar answers. "Probably just the wind."
Mohinder sniffles and his grip tightens a bit on Zane. "Uh huh," he says, as Zane rocks back against him fitfully. "You're incorrigible."
Zane snickers. "I try."
*
Matthew Swanson is gone the next day. Zane is relieved. Mohinder is awkward. "We should probably head back to New York," Mohinder says in the car. A tape of bad 80s music that they picked up in a rest stop is playing.
Zane just shrugs his shoulders and smiles. His legs are folded up on the seat, the heels of his Chuck Taylors digging into the upholstery. "Whatever you want."
When Mohinder smiles, his eyes crinkle at the corners, and his cheeks color slightly. Also, his teeth are blinding. Too blinding. Too distracting.
Sylar thinks that before he kills Mohinder, he will remove his teeth one by one, and then maybe Gabriel and Zane will stop being distracted by the superficial, by such tricks of the trade as manners and graciousness and plain human feeling.
They can't fall for every man with a smile and nice stubble -- it would never do to succumb to the very illusion that they're selling.
-end-
Beta byantheia. Remaining fuck-ups by me. Title from the song by The Rolling Stones.
them0rgue this morning and she's all Mo'hotass/Sylar dirty hotel sex... Nathan/Peter... *sighs and sparkly hearts*...what if Peter goes EVIL? And my brain spun around in my skull. The idea of evol!Peter is just too hot to be believed. I would buy that tee shirt. I would fly the flag. I'm not a huge Peter fan, but he's been growing on me, and if he goes evil, I will turn into an evol!Peter/Nathan factory. That idea has consumed my brain so badly I'll just have to write the Mohinder/Sylar instead. Bet you didn't see that one coming, did you?
Heroes
Sylar/Mohinder
Rated R (general spoilers through 1.18)
Gabriel does not share well. Wait, that's not true. Gabriel has always shared. He has shared his clothing with his brothers, and shared his space with his father. Gabriel has shared his school lunches with bullies, because he was too small to defend himself, and his brothers said he had to learn how to fight his own fights. He has shared the entire world with people who don't appreciate him and don't like him. He has shared hot water with the entire building where he lives and joint walls that are too thin for apartments and fists and all kinds of things. Gabriel has always shared. Gabriel does nothing but share -- he shares with Sylar. He knows no other way.
Sylar is.
That's it. There is no great manifesto. No mind-blowing epiphanies. No Marx, no ubermench, no nothing to explain. Sylar does not explain. Sylar does not share. Sylar does not take seconds or accept defeat. Sylar is not the every man -- Sylar is the only man.
He is the pinnacle of everything.
There is nothing but him.
(Or there won't be if he has his way. Which he will.)
Zane is none of the above. Zane is the wolf in sheep's clothing. He is what Gabriel and Sylar make him out to be. Wait, that's not quite true. Sylar has nothing to do with Zane. He finds the whole business tiresome. Zane is Gabriel's invention.
The black tee shirts and white long sleeve shirts -- Gabriel picks eight monochromatic shirts from Zane's bureau while Mohinder is out making room in the trunk for Zane's suitcase –- are all what Gabriel likes. Zane has pictures of pale women with non-existent eyebrows and men with dark eyes on his walls. There are photographs. There are post-its on Zane's mirror to pick up salami and inflate the basketball before the game on Saturday. Zane has sticky magazines in his nightstand and a half-used bottle of Jergens by his lamp. Sylar is appalled. Gabriel observes curiously.
He picks up a faded photograph of a man and woman and sticks in it Zane's duffle bag, They are now Zane's parents. It doesn't matter who they used to be, only who they will be.
Zane can share. He is Gabriel's ubermench after all.
Mohinder is dark eyes and shiny hair. He smells -- not unpleasant. He prattles on and on about the weather, and where they are going, and what they are going to do when they get there. In the back of Gabriel's mind, Sylar is picking his teeth with a knife. In the back of Zane's mind, Gabriel is quiet, thoughtful. He smiles when Mohinder offers him half of a Powerbar. He offers money for gas when they stop on the side of the road.
Zane likes The Pixies. Zane likes tee shirts in binary. Zane likes AC/DC. Gabriel knows this because these are the shirts he packed. These are the traits Gabriel has chosen for him.
When The Ramones' 'I Wanna Be Sedated' comes on the radio, Zane looks significantly from Mohinder to the radio, twice. Mohinder smiles. "Be my guest," he says, "I know you like them."
Gabriel doesn't know the words to 'I Wanna Be Sedated'; apparently Zane does.
Sylar bides his time. Gabriel bites his bottom lip. Zane leans across the table at the diner and takes a couple of Mohinder's french fries while Mohinder is reading the newspaper. When Mohinder puts the paper down, Zane has three fries sticking out of his mouth. Mohinder just laughs and pushes the tray across the table. "All you had to do was ask."
Zane ducks his head and smiles into the table top. Gabriel takes more notes.
Zane is not expecting the separate hotel rooms. Gabriel is relieved at the chance to rest. Sylar flexes his muscles and takes control. He has been subservient for days; it has not been this way since his inception. He is cranky and unhappy. "Acquiring" Dale Smither's ability is like a feast after the famine.
When Sylar is done, he finds himself outside of Mohinder's hotel room, standing there, one hand raised to knock on the door.
Zane shifts from one foot to the other nervously; Gabriel sleeps; Sylar rages. Sylar is not going to lose control of this form to someone who doesn't even exist. He has no interest in Dr. Suresh beyond a basic need. Zane is not going to defile him with some carnal cravings. Absolutely not.
Two days later they are in another town. The victim, err, target's name is Matthew Swanson. According to Mohinder's notes, Mr. Swanson is fast. Very fast. Sylar is only marginally interested. This is a new power, yes, but speed would be nothing next to flying. Or teleporting. At this point it is almost like collecting stamps to him. It is nothing like hearing the fluttering of Mohinder's heartbeat when Sylar gets too close to him. Except Mohinder's heartbeat isn't for Sylar -- it's for Zane.
That night Mohinder and Zane watch Deal or No Deal on Mohinder's scrambled TV. The picture is awful. One of the color tubes in the TV has to be broken since all the women have blue faces, but Zane is fascinated.
Mohinder sits beside him on the full bed, tapping at his laptop, while Sylar grits his teeth and tries not to think about going deaf. Sylar has no idea when Mohinder starts petting his hair, judging by the boneless quality of his body though, he presumes it's been some time and he was simply unaware. He blames Gabriel. He blames Zane. He's losing control.
Zane will have to go soon. Very soon.
Sylar wakes up hot and sweaty. The sheets are stuck to him in odd places, and he feels filthy in a very particular way. He's sore and cramped; he's not wearing a shirt or pants. When warm air brushes against the back of his neck, every hair on his body stands up. There's an arm slung across his waist and a proprietary hand curled around his dick that is very much not his own.
A picture on the wall crashes to the floor next door. And in the room next door to that one. And so on and so forth. Mohinder stirs next to him. "What's that?" he asks sleepily.
Someone who is not Sylar answers. "Probably just the wind."
Mohinder sniffles and his grip tightens a bit on Zane. "Uh huh," he says, as Zane rocks back against him fitfully. "You're incorrigible."
Zane snickers. "I try."
Matthew Swanson is gone the next day. Zane is relieved. Mohinder is awkward. "We should probably head back to New York," Mohinder says in the car. A tape of bad 80s music that they picked up in a rest stop is playing.
Zane just shrugs his shoulders and smiles. His legs are folded up on the seat, the heels of his Chuck Taylors digging into the upholstery. "Whatever you want."
When Mohinder smiles, his eyes crinkle at the corners, and his cheeks color slightly. Also, his teeth are blinding. Too blinding. Too distracting.
Sylar thinks that before he kills Mohinder, he will remove his teeth one by one, and then maybe Gabriel and Zane will stop being distracted by the superficial, by such tricks of the trade as manners and graciousness and plain human feeling.
They can't fall for every man with a smile and nice stubble -- it would never do to succumb to the very illusion that they're selling.
-end-
Beta by
antheia. Remaining fuck-ups by me. Title from the song by The Rolling Stones.
no subject