|Agent Fox Mulder (i_want_2) wrote in heroes_fiction,|
@ 2008-12-01 15:51:00
|Entry tags:||peter/sylar, rated: adult, slash|
Fic: Coming Home To Roses 1/1 Sylar/Peter
Title: Coming Home To Roses
Author: Lopaka Tanu
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes.
Characters: Peter, Angela, Sylar
Warnings: Language, Mention of Non-con, Dominance/Submission, Sexual Acts.
Summary: 6 Months Ago, Peter went missing, no one noticed. He's back now.
Author's Note: There is no bondage or physical restraining, it is all mental or in the past.
'You suffered so beautifully.'
Four words that haunted his thoughts every waking moment of the day. Like the phantom caress of chapped lips against his skin, they left their mark scorched in his psyche. There wasn't a place he ever felt safe any more.
Every time Peter turned around, he expected to be back in that prison. Paper had covered the walls, but the windows were reinforced and security locked shut. He had free access to most of the apartment, but the front room was off limits.
The one time he had been bold enough to try... Peter shivered.
His mother refused to talk about it. She pretended that nothing had ever happened. That if she ignored it long enough, he'd stop waking up, crying out for her in the middle of the night. After all, it wasn't her fault, so why should she care?
No one did, and that was the God's honest truth.
Shivering again, Peter pulled the hood of his sweater up to block out the wind from the ceiling fan. He was always cold here. The apartment had been a shade of warm just this side of hell. It was nice and sunny out, but he daren't open a curtain.
They were waiting outside, but it wasn't the reason he remained hidden. Sure, the snapping of their cameras, flashing of lights irritated his eyes. That's why he wore the sunglasses even inside. Well, that and he knew it made Nathan angry.
Then again, what didn't these days? The man seemed to be stuck in brood mode. His dentist had even given him a mouth guard to keep his perfect veneers intact during the grind cycle.
His snicker quickly petered out. It wasn't really funny, really kinda sad and pathetic really. Still, the fact he could still smile had to mean something. There were days he wasn't even sure he felt human any more.
Not like that mattered. There were so many unfeeling monsters out there in the world, what was one more?
He would have liked to enjoy being free, after six months of being locked away. There should have been a moment or two of relief at the very least, logic dictated. Yet, nothing had come to him. Shock and denial, the shrinks had called it.
Peter had another word for it. Reality.
That something like being held for six months by a deranged lunatic for his sexual gratification and no one notice it could happen, pretty much put the whole world in a new perspective.
Looking at his gloved hand, Peter wondered how much the leather had cost. Probably more than his captor had seen in a year. Nothing but the best for covering up their dirty little secret. Had to hide the fact that they never even bothered looking for him.
Before, he had been the one who spurned their offers of opportunity, at least as they saw it. Peter knew he had been tossing off the chains of his family's legacy before they could tie him down. And for it, they had punished him.
When he disappeared, it had been just another of his silly tangents, he would show up some day. A week had turned in to six months and before the knew it, scandal and disgrace had struck the Petrelli family yet again.
The press seemed to love the fact that not even a missing person's report had been filed. Peter secretly kept every article he could get his gloved fingers on. He thrived on the smearing of their good name, not that the fine people of New York needed much help to see the shit stains on the wall.
If that exterminator hadn't gotten a little carried away, then he probably never would have been discovered. Sitting there on the couch, his knees drawn up to his chest, Peter wasn't sure he was grateful to the man. But, he had been doing his job. It wasn't his fault the delusion Peter had been under about his family was so easily wiped away.
The clacking of expensive heels on marble floor signaled the arrival of the head of their disgusting little family. Her face carefully done, hair artfully arranged in a severe bun, Angela came around the couch. She stopped several feet away, her hands clutched, and stared at him.
Peter ignored her. She wasn't important. Staring off in to nothing, now that was worth his time.
Sighing, Angela glanced about the front living room. Her nose twitched with the distaste at the stale air. "You will be going out today."
"Fine." He still had an apartment. He could go there so he could sit and stare at nothing. At least he wouldn't be bothered by her. The heat could even be turned up to a decent temperature.
The more he thought about it, the more the idea appealed to Peter. Pushing off from the couch, he slowly stretched out the kinks from his muscles. He was a little taller than his mother, but he still felt short.
He had been taller than Peter. It didn't matter by how much, he just seemed to always be bigger. The fact Peter's eyes had always been down cast only added to that image.
After six months, it had become second nature. Funny, Peter never felt the need to continue that around his family. He wondered why.
Shaking the sleeves of his sweater down to cover his entire arms, Peter adjusted the hood so he could see where he was going. Pulling up the headphones from around his neck, he put them on his ears. He saw Angela open her mouth to speak, and turned on the mp3 player to drown her out.
She narrowed her eyes, not quite glaring at him. Mouth thinning out in to a severe line, she took a step towards him. There was something she wanted him to do.
That didn't matter. None of her bullshit did.
Shivering, he glared up at the ceiling fan. It was always too cold in this fucking mansion. Turning, he headed for the front door. He knew she would be trying to stop him, but he was faster.
The door was thrown open before she could reach it. Stomping his way down the steps, Peter ignored the sudden surge of media towards him. The guards on the front gates would keep them back until a cab could be called. Raising his hand, he whistled at the passing yellow cars.
One broke off from the pack and came towards the curb.
The press tried to block his path, but then the guards decided to get rough.
Peter caught sight of several people going down, their expensive equipment shattering when it hit, and he smiled. Some times, life was indeed good. See, he wasn't in shock!
The cab was filthy and smelled like a back alley, but it was his ticket to freedom as he climbed in. After yelling the instructions, Peter slipped a fifty between the plexi divider for the driver. Then he slammed the door and turned up the music until it made his ears vibrate.
Ah, the joys of having a tech on his family's payroll who could override the safeties on electronics.
He caught the cabbie eyeing him in the rear-view mirror, checking him out. Peter gave him a toothy grin, but kept it at that.
As the cab pulled away from the curb, the light above them started to grow dim. It took Peter a full minute to remember that there was supposed to be an eclipse today. Rolling his eyes, he decided to get in some practice before the apartment.
The cabbie's mouth was moving and he was glancing back in the mirror, but Peter didn't hear him.
Peter was surprised, the man should have been able to hear the lead singer of whatever band he was listening to. All he knew was that it had an awesome baseline and it was loud. After all, that is all that mattered in a good song any more.
After much stop and go, the cab eventually parked next to a curb in a decidedly less appealing block. Turning, the cabbie stared at Peter over his shoulder. He said something else, but again, Peter didn't hear.
He was home.
Smiling, Peter shrugged and reached for the door handle. The moment the door flew open, the fake smile slipped from his face. Climbing out, he found that there were reporters here too, though mainly of the paparazzi variety. There were two video cameras with station numbers on them, but the talking heads were no where to be seen.
Probably free lancing.
Just to be pissy, and stick it to his family one more time, he flipped them off. It made him feel better, so he did it a couple more times before he was in his building. Thankfully, his brother had talked the owners in to adding some security.
Ah, the joys of being related to the mob.
Walking on the elevator brought a sense of completion. His journey was almost over, then he could rest. Or at least stare off in peace.
The ding of the lift brought him back to himself, just in time for the doors to open.
Stepping off, he turned right and headed for his apartment. Even from that distance, he could make out a legal summons tacked to it. Yet another threat from his brother for not cooperating. Not that they would ever make good on it, the D.A. wanted to get reelected in six weeks.
Sighing, he ignored it and put the key in each lock. There were five of them, enough that used to make him feel safe. That was a thing of the past, much like his sense of civic duty and his belief in the good in humanity. Three things he could live without.
Pushing in the front door, he was hit with a wave of heat. The apartment had been made ready. He sighed with pleasure and closed the door behind him. Before it occurred to him to question how, a stillness drew his attention.
"Hello, Peter." The voice was low, a seductive purr with a hint of anger.
Peter's eyes dropped to the floor automatically. Spinning slowly, he found a familiar pair of black boots not five feet away. A shiver ran down his spine. "I didn't run."
"I know." Taking a single step forward, the boots made no noise. "You have no idea how disappointed I was to come home and find the place crawling with police. It took me almost a week to find out what happened." Raising a pale hand, he snapped his fingers.
Peter was at the man's side in two quick strides. Falling to his knees, he pressed his forehead to the man's buckle. Warmth, firm flesh pressed against his cheek through black material.
He exhaled in relief, relaxing tense muscles when a comforting hand stroke through his short hair. A part of his mind twisted in revulsion over his reaction, but he didn't care. This felt too right. "They forced me to cut it. I know how much you liked it long."
"I forgive you, Peter." He pressed his hips forward until his erection was rubbing fully along the kneeling man's face. "I apologize for taking so long, I know you were lost without me. It will not happen again, I have taken care of the problem."
"Thank you." It wasn't his problem, but Peter knew the other enjoyed being appreciated. Turning his face, he pressed a kiss to the head of the cock. "Would you like me to provide you with relief?"
"Not yet." His voice held an angry growl, more pronounced this time. "There are other matters that need attending." His hand stilled in Peter's hair. Slowly, he reached down to curl a finger under the kneeling man's chin, forcing him to look up. "I have a surprise for you."
A thrill of excitement shot down Peter's spine. "You got her?"
His smile was brilliant and breath taking, flashing white teeth through thick lips. "Get me an atlas."
Peter hurriedly stood up and jogged to a book case across the room. Grabbing a leather bound volume off the shelf, he turned and ran back to kneel at the man's side. He held it up, presenting it to him.
Opening the book to New York City, the man closed his eyes. "Nathan Petrelli." Almost instantly, his finger fell to a dead point on the map. Opening his eyes, he smiled down upon the map and Peter. "He is in his campaign office right now."
Sighing with pleasure, Peter followed the length of finger to the point he was pointing at. Sure enough, he was pointing to the Dexler Building. Peter couldn't hold back the giddy giggle.
Sucking in a deep breath, he returned his hand to Peter's hair. He scrubbed his fingers through the locks, massaging the kneeling man's scalp. The hard line of his cock strained against the confining material of his jeans. "I am ready now, Peter."
His eyes half closing, Peter turned to press another kiss to the bulging material. He closed the atlas and set it down the floor beside them. That taken care of, he quickly set to work on the buckle and buttons preventing him from carrying out his task.
Standing above Peter, the man's eyes half closed. He reached out to grasp Peter's head, hissing when those sinfully beautiful lips enveloped him. The pleasure caused his breath to hitch and he arched in to Peter's grip. "So good, just wonderful."
Peter hummed around the cock in his mouth. Hearing the man moan made him smile. Everything would be all right now. Sylar would protect and take care of him once more.
He was finally safe.