[fanfic] Walk This Way
Aug. 12th, 2009 08:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tiptoe39Title: Walk This Way
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tiptoe39
Rating: PG-13 for mentions of sexual arousal (shocking!)
Pairing: Syluke
Summary: Luke wants to walk the way Sylar does.
Notes: Written fortakhallus's CEO day at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
heroes_exchange. Sorry it's in after deadline, boss ;_; And thanks to moorishflower for the beta!
Walk This Way
Luke liked the way Sylar walked. It wasn't a swagger, exactly, but it had a sort of confidence to it. His hands swung at his sides; his strides were long; his chin jutted insistently forward as his eyes stayed fixed on his destination. Luke decided, after pondering the right description, that Sylar walked like hero of an action flick. Like a man on a mission.
Luke practiced walking toward the mirror in the same way, but it looked stupid when he did it. The guy in the mirror wasn't anywhere near an action hero; he was just a pasty-faced kid who looked like he hadn't had enough sleep. He reminded himself of one of those late-night parodies of loser guys who went into clubs confident they could pick up women and were completely oblivious to the smackdowns they got, confidently declaring into the camera, "She wants me."
Luke was under no illusions that anyone wanted him. Maybe that's what his confident stride was missing: the confident part.
Sylar's shoulders had a twitch to them when they moved; they shifted back and forth almost with a will of their own, cutting through the air. Luke decided he'd start small and just practice that part. He was twitching his shoulders, looking purposefully into the mirror, when Sylar caught him.
He ignored him at first; despite Luke's persistence, that was the usual attitude. But after a moment Sylar did a double-take, leaning back to examine Luke's shifting shoulders in the mirror. Luke saw his gaze a moment too late and stopped, suddenly red-faced and blowing gusts of air from pursed lips.
"What are you doing?" Sylar said in a voice that balanced mild interest with disgust.
"Nothing," Luke lied. Sylar didn't even have to call him on it; he just gave him a look and the lie collapsed. "I'm practicing, OK? I'm just trying to look like you do when you walk."
Sylar's brows furrowed into a confused knot. "How do I look when I walk?"
Luke gulped. There was often a right answer when Sylar asked him a question; worse were the times when there was no right answer, just wrong ones. "You look...I don't know. You look cool," he said, shrugging. He was still facing the mirror, looking through it back at Sylar's reflection. It was too embarrassing to face him directly.
"I look cool." Sylar chewed on the answer a minute, then strode across the floor to stand behind Luke. Even in those few steps, the gait, the purpose was there.
"Y-yeah," Luke said, swallowing. "Just like that. Just like you just did." It was a lot of just for one sentence. God, Luke couldn't even talk straight, what the hell was he doing trying to walk like Sylar?
A half-smile snaked across Sylar's lips. He stepped a little closer, his bigger shoulders framing Luke's. With the black turtleneck Sylar was wearing, Luke thought it looked a bit like someone had taken a fat Sharpie marker and drawn an outline around him.
"Where are you going?" Sylar asked.
"What?"
"Where are you going? When you're walking."
Luke flushed. He hadn't thought to actually make up a destination in his practice. "Oh, you mean, like in my head? I hadn't-- I don't know. Where should I go?"
"You have to want to go somewhere," Sylar said with a look upward that fell just short of a roll of the eyes. "Or what's the point of walking?"
"OK." Luke nodded and closed his eyes. He wanted to go... Well, that was a problem. Except for when he was really hungry or had to go to the bathroom, he didn't tend to want to go anywhere in particular. Actually, he didn't really care where he went, so long as Sylar was there with him.
So pretend you're walking to him. His eyes flew open as the idea came, and he looked at his own dumbstruck face in the mirror. Sometimes he could be goddamn smart.
"Back up a little," he said to Sylar, "could you?" Sylar looked at him as though he'd requested a triple order of asbestos-flavored ice cream, but he obliged.
Facing the Sylar in the mirror, Luke fixed him with a determined glare. That, he thought, that looks almost right. He braced one shoulder forward. Was it too much? Too predatory? Damn it, now he was looking at himself again, not his destination. He shifted his gaze and instantly regretted it. The look on Sylar's face was dumbfounded, as though he were watching a small animal bang its head against the bars of its cage. What is this thing doing, that look said, and is it my fault?
A few halfhearted twitches of shoulder, and Luke slumped, dissatisfied. "Forget it," he said, "never mind." It was stupid, really. Sylar as his walking coach? The man barely tolerated him as it was. He began to turn to walk away from the dumb mirror. Dumb boy reflected in a dumb mirror. What a depressing image.
Warmth touched his shoulder briefly, and then he was swung back to face the mirror again. A cry fell from his lips. Sylar had braced his shoulders with both hands and was now holding him in place. Luke tried to twist away, frustrated with having to face himself helpless in addition to dumb. "Wh-what?"
"What are you thinking about?" Sylar asked, in an even, calm tone that scared the heck out of Luke.
"I'm... I'm not thinking of anything."
"Yes, you are. You're thinking about getting to me. While you're walking."
Oh, holy crap. Sylar was still trying to coach him? "Look, I said forget it, so just--"
"You shouldn't think about getting to me."
Luke dreaded where this was going. "I know! I'm sorry, all right?"
"You should be thinking about what happens after you get to me."
The struggles ceased. Luke blinked at Sylar's reflection. "What do you mean?"
Sylar's hands eased on his shoulders; they even gave a brief squeeze, an almost encouraging motion. "Don't just think about getting to your destination," he said, his voice taking on an intimate tone that Luke had never heard from him before. "Think about what you're going to do when you get there."
What you're going to do. What did he ever do with Sylar? Try to be just like him. Try to get him to look in Luke's direction. Hang on him like a goddamn puppy. That wasn't going to make him look more confident. But maybe that's...
"What I'm going to do?" he asked. "Or what I want to do?"
Sylar gave a full, wide smile.
The warmth that had alit on his shoulders moved southward, and suddenly Sylar was hanging over him, arms crossed over his chest possessively. He buried his chin in the tuft of Luke's hair, then bent it forward to press his mouth to the crown of Luke's head. Hot breath was diffusing into his scalp. Luke shuddered, and he felt himself get hard. Oh, God, there was no way Sylar wouldn't see that. He would be ditched now for sure, revealed for the perv he was. But why was Sylar kissing his head, then? His brain was jittering furiously.
"What are you seeing?" Sylar's voice against his skin sent warm streams of feeling down through him. "Are you seeing what you want to do?"
Hard became rock-solid, and a wave of dizziness washed through Luke. "Y-yes," he said shakily.
He thought he heard Sylar mutter Thank God. But that couldn't possibly have been real. His ears were throbbing along with the rest of him, and he was probably just hearing the rush of his own blood.
He watched in petrified fascination as Sylar's arms ventured lower, as Sylar bent to kiss the shell of his ear (red as it was-- he could feel every indentation in Sylar's lips and every single prickly hair against it) and slip a wet tongue around his earlobe. "Keep practicing," said that husky rumble of voice. "You're seeing what you want. Keep seeing it as you go."
Almost mechanically, Luke tried to obey. His shoulders shifted forward and back again, and as he watched Sylar dropped his mouth to Luke's neck, making him erupt in shivers.
Sylar's downturned eyes abruptly raised to catch Luke's in the mirror. "That's it," he whispered into the gooseflesh at Luke's neck. "That's the look you should have." Luke froze, his gaze shifting to his own face. He'd thought his expression must be slack-jawed, stupidly blank. But his lips were shut tight, his jaw set, and his head craning forward as though to get a little closer, get a better view. He looked, he realized, like a man on a mission.
Like Sylar.
He grinned, and a smile against his neck answered him. "Keep seeing it," Sylar coached, "and then walk over and make it happen." Three words, four hissed syllables, and then Sylar was tilting his chin toward him, kissing his mouth with wet, slippery lips.
Luke literally flailed. His arms were everywhere all of a sudden as his balance went to shit and he ended up grabbing Sylar's shirtsleeves to hold him up. He made a sound against Sylar's lips that wasn't even graceful enough to be called an mmph, but there was need in that sound, and surprise and gratitude, too. Sylar didn't make a sound, but he did kiss Luke more fiercely, with a red-hot flicker of tongue searing Luke's lips and burning its way inside.
The kiss was over too abruptly and too soon, and Luke wailed a little at its end. But Sylar was still staring at him through the mirror, devilish tongue licking his own lips. The look of purpose was there on Sylar's face now too, and Luke took in a breath, flustered but suddenly aware of the lesson behind it all.
"If I see it in my mind," he said, "I can make it happen."
Sylar grinned. "And isn't that better than just looking cool."
Luke broke into a grin of his own. He folded a hand around the nape of Sylar's neck and yanked him closer. "Guess what I'm seeing now," he said, inches from Sylar's face.
Sylar didn't jerk away from his grasp. "You think you can make that happen, too?"
Luke did.
END
Author:
tiptoe39Rating: PG-13 for mentions of sexual arousal (shocking!)
Pairing: Syluke
Summary: Luke wants to walk the way Sylar does.
Notes: Written for
takhallus's CEO day at heroes_exchange. Sorry it's in after deadline, boss ;_; And thanks to moorishflower for the beta!Walk This Way
Luke liked the way Sylar walked. It wasn't a swagger, exactly, but it had a sort of confidence to it. His hands swung at his sides; his strides were long; his chin jutted insistently forward as his eyes stayed fixed on his destination. Luke decided, after pondering the right description, that Sylar walked like hero of an action flick. Like a man on a mission.
Luke practiced walking toward the mirror in the same way, but it looked stupid when he did it. The guy in the mirror wasn't anywhere near an action hero; he was just a pasty-faced kid who looked like he hadn't had enough sleep. He reminded himself of one of those late-night parodies of loser guys who went into clubs confident they could pick up women and were completely oblivious to the smackdowns they got, confidently declaring into the camera, "She wants me."
Luke was under no illusions that anyone wanted him. Maybe that's what his confident stride was missing: the confident part.
Sylar's shoulders had a twitch to them when they moved; they shifted back and forth almost with a will of their own, cutting through the air. Luke decided he'd start small and just practice that part. He was twitching his shoulders, looking purposefully into the mirror, when Sylar caught him.
He ignored him at first; despite Luke's persistence, that was the usual attitude. But after a moment Sylar did a double-take, leaning back to examine Luke's shifting shoulders in the mirror. Luke saw his gaze a moment too late and stopped, suddenly red-faced and blowing gusts of air from pursed lips.
"What are you doing?" Sylar said in a voice that balanced mild interest with disgust.
"Nothing," Luke lied. Sylar didn't even have to call him on it; he just gave him a look and the lie collapsed. "I'm practicing, OK? I'm just trying to look like you do when you walk."
Sylar's brows furrowed into a confused knot. "How do I look when I walk?"
Luke gulped. There was often a right answer when Sylar asked him a question; worse were the times when there was no right answer, just wrong ones. "You look...I don't know. You look cool," he said, shrugging. He was still facing the mirror, looking through it back at Sylar's reflection. It was too embarrassing to face him directly.
"I look cool." Sylar chewed on the answer a minute, then strode across the floor to stand behind Luke. Even in those few steps, the gait, the purpose was there.
"Y-yeah," Luke said, swallowing. "Just like that. Just like you just did." It was a lot of just for one sentence. God, Luke couldn't even talk straight, what the hell was he doing trying to walk like Sylar?
A half-smile snaked across Sylar's lips. He stepped a little closer, his bigger shoulders framing Luke's. With the black turtleneck Sylar was wearing, Luke thought it looked a bit like someone had taken a fat Sharpie marker and drawn an outline around him.
"Where are you going?" Sylar asked.
"What?"
"Where are you going? When you're walking."
Luke flushed. He hadn't thought to actually make up a destination in his practice. "Oh, you mean, like in my head? I hadn't-- I don't know. Where should I go?"
"You have to want to go somewhere," Sylar said with a look upward that fell just short of a roll of the eyes. "Or what's the point of walking?"
"OK." Luke nodded and closed his eyes. He wanted to go... Well, that was a problem. Except for when he was really hungry or had to go to the bathroom, he didn't tend to want to go anywhere in particular. Actually, he didn't really care where he went, so long as Sylar was there with him.
So pretend you're walking to him. His eyes flew open as the idea came, and he looked at his own dumbstruck face in the mirror. Sometimes he could be goddamn smart.
"Back up a little," he said to Sylar, "could you?" Sylar looked at him as though he'd requested a triple order of asbestos-flavored ice cream, but he obliged.
Facing the Sylar in the mirror, Luke fixed him with a determined glare. That, he thought, that looks almost right. He braced one shoulder forward. Was it too much? Too predatory? Damn it, now he was looking at himself again, not his destination. He shifted his gaze and instantly regretted it. The look on Sylar's face was dumbfounded, as though he were watching a small animal bang its head against the bars of its cage. What is this thing doing, that look said, and is it my fault?
A few halfhearted twitches of shoulder, and Luke slumped, dissatisfied. "Forget it," he said, "never mind." It was stupid, really. Sylar as his walking coach? The man barely tolerated him as it was. He began to turn to walk away from the dumb mirror. Dumb boy reflected in a dumb mirror. What a depressing image.
Warmth touched his shoulder briefly, and then he was swung back to face the mirror again. A cry fell from his lips. Sylar had braced his shoulders with both hands and was now holding him in place. Luke tried to twist away, frustrated with having to face himself helpless in addition to dumb. "Wh-what?"
"What are you thinking about?" Sylar asked, in an even, calm tone that scared the heck out of Luke.
"I'm... I'm not thinking of anything."
"Yes, you are. You're thinking about getting to me. While you're walking."
Oh, holy crap. Sylar was still trying to coach him? "Look, I said forget it, so just--"
"You shouldn't think about getting to me."
Luke dreaded where this was going. "I know! I'm sorry, all right?"
"You should be thinking about what happens after you get to me."
The struggles ceased. Luke blinked at Sylar's reflection. "What do you mean?"
Sylar's hands eased on his shoulders; they even gave a brief squeeze, an almost encouraging motion. "Don't just think about getting to your destination," he said, his voice taking on an intimate tone that Luke had never heard from him before. "Think about what you're going to do when you get there."
What you're going to do. What did he ever do with Sylar? Try to be just like him. Try to get him to look in Luke's direction. Hang on him like a goddamn puppy. That wasn't going to make him look more confident. But maybe that's...
"What I'm going to do?" he asked. "Or what I want to do?"
Sylar gave a full, wide smile.
The warmth that had alit on his shoulders moved southward, and suddenly Sylar was hanging over him, arms crossed over his chest possessively. He buried his chin in the tuft of Luke's hair, then bent it forward to press his mouth to the crown of Luke's head. Hot breath was diffusing into his scalp. Luke shuddered, and he felt himself get hard. Oh, God, there was no way Sylar wouldn't see that. He would be ditched now for sure, revealed for the perv he was. But why was Sylar kissing his head, then? His brain was jittering furiously.
"What are you seeing?" Sylar's voice against his skin sent warm streams of feeling down through him. "Are you seeing what you want to do?"
Hard became rock-solid, and a wave of dizziness washed through Luke. "Y-yes," he said shakily.
He thought he heard Sylar mutter Thank God. But that couldn't possibly have been real. His ears were throbbing along with the rest of him, and he was probably just hearing the rush of his own blood.
He watched in petrified fascination as Sylar's arms ventured lower, as Sylar bent to kiss the shell of his ear (red as it was-- he could feel every indentation in Sylar's lips and every single prickly hair against it) and slip a wet tongue around his earlobe. "Keep practicing," said that husky rumble of voice. "You're seeing what you want. Keep seeing it as you go."
Almost mechanically, Luke tried to obey. His shoulders shifted forward and back again, and as he watched Sylar dropped his mouth to Luke's neck, making him erupt in shivers.
Sylar's downturned eyes abruptly raised to catch Luke's in the mirror. "That's it," he whispered into the gooseflesh at Luke's neck. "That's the look you should have." Luke froze, his gaze shifting to his own face. He'd thought his expression must be slack-jawed, stupidly blank. But his lips were shut tight, his jaw set, and his head craning forward as though to get a little closer, get a better view. He looked, he realized, like a man on a mission.
Like Sylar.
He grinned, and a smile against his neck answered him. "Keep seeing it," Sylar coached, "and then walk over and make it happen." Three words, four hissed syllables, and then Sylar was tilting his chin toward him, kissing his mouth with wet, slippery lips.
Luke literally flailed. His arms were everywhere all of a sudden as his balance went to shit and he ended up grabbing Sylar's shirtsleeves to hold him up. He made a sound against Sylar's lips that wasn't even graceful enough to be called an mmph, but there was need in that sound, and surprise and gratitude, too. Sylar didn't make a sound, but he did kiss Luke more fiercely, with a red-hot flicker of tongue searing Luke's lips and burning its way inside.
The kiss was over too abruptly and too soon, and Luke wailed a little at its end. But Sylar was still staring at him through the mirror, devilish tongue licking his own lips. The look of purpose was there on Sylar's face now too, and Luke took in a breath, flustered but suddenly aware of the lesson behind it all.
"If I see it in my mind," he said, "I can make it happen."
Sylar grinned. "And isn't that better than just looking cool."
Luke broke into a grin of his own. He folded a hand around the nape of Sylar's neck and yanked him closer. "Guess what I'm seeing now," he said, inches from Sylar's face.
Sylar didn't jerk away from his grasp. "You think you can make that happen, too?"
Luke did.
END
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-13 01:19 am (UTC)It is such an awesome idea and I like the way Sylar is kind of submissive in his dominance, just basically saying "Well then, come and get me!"
Excellent job x
(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-14 06:17 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-13 08:18 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-14 06:17 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-16 06:20 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-16 06:21 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-20 04:37 pm (UTC)