for notaballad

[spongetastic]

He stood in the stange spa, his lips pulling into a frown. This was where Petrelli had been hiding all this time? It made his blood boil thinking that the man who nearly blew up New York would be pampered, while Sylar was treated like an animal. Yet this was where the black van that carried Peter led him.

Sticking his hands in his pockets, Sylar stalked through the spa searching for his empathic enemy. The people he passed by barely gave him a passing glance. To his surprise he found an open shower in the spa. Someone was currently using it: a man, and when his curiosity nudged him to look closer Sylar noticed it was Peter.

Sylar couldn’t see all of the empath, but he saw enough. His initial anger dissolved into something else as he watched Peter. The young man’s taunt muscles flexed as they moved over his slick, wet body. Finally Peter shut off the water and turned. Sylar got a complete view of Peter’s front. A very nice view, he was forced to admit.

Strangely when their eyes met, Peter didn’t get angry or afraid or even shy. He did the very last thing Sylar ever expected: he smiled.

“Good day,” Peter greeted him.

Something wasn’t right. Peter wasn’t broken, exactly; the pieces just weren’t working the same way anymore. It was difficult for Sylar to figure out with the empath’s naked form distracting him.

“Put some clothes on already,” Sylar growled out impatiently. To his surprise Peter obeyed immediately, pulling on a T-shirt and a pair of sweats. His hair was still dripping wet but at least he was decent. “What the hell is wrong with you, Petrelli?” Sylar demanded. “Aren’t you going to fight me?”

“My name is Kilo,” Peter corrected him. But Sylar knew better; he could tell this was Peter. Something had changed about him but he was essentially the same. “Shall I go now?” Peter asked, tilting his head to the side.

“You’re asking my permission.” Sylar couldn’t believe this. Not only was Peter not trying to kill him, but he was also acting completely submissive. He couldn’t understand, and Sylar hated not understanding things. “I’ll come with you,” he said.

“I like making new friends,” Peter responded pleasantly. He padded barefoot down the hall and into a large sitting area.

Sylar followed, noticing that the other people in the spa were dressed like Peter and had the same blank looks on their faces. They were all wired in the same odd way as Peter. Not broken, but not quite… right. They finally stopped in front of a plush sofa. Peter took a seat and Sylar sat down beside him.

“Well?” the killer demanded when he saw nothing special about this place.

“I’m waiting for Quebec,” Peter explained. “He’s getting a treatment.” Sylar was going to ask who Quebec was when Peter jumped to his feet again. A handsome young man with dark hair was coming down the stairs. The pair met at the bottom, hands linking together.

“Good day,” Quebec greeted the killer mildly. His eyes looked around before he leaned forward and gave Peter an affectionate nuzzle. “I want to go to the fort, Kilo,” Quebec announced.

“Okay,” Peter agreed. “Good day.” He nodded politely to Sylar but before they could go, the killer blocked them.

“Can I come?” he asked. Quebec gave a disapproving frown and tightened his grip on Peter’s hand but Peter just smiled and nodded.

“If you like.” It was almost too easy. Sylar wondered what else he could make Peter do. The pair led Sylar to a certain corner of the spa. They had a blanket draped over chairs, and more blankets and pillows were strewn on the floor. Sylar also noticed there were no cameras here.

“My, my,” he murmured. “What dirty things are you two getting up to here?”

“We’re safe here,” Quebec explained.

“I see.” Sylar turned on Peter, cupping the empath’s face in his hands. He kissed Peter, fully expecting the younger man to freak out or attach him. Instead Peter stood placidly without responding at all. Sylar pulled back with a snort.

“Your mouth is warm,” Peter observed. “I like kissing Quebec better, though,” he added, and proceeded to do just that. Sylar noticed with a growl that both parties were responsive that time. But it was still very sweet and innocent.

“You fucked him yet?” Sylar asked, his lip twitching. Peter tilted his head, a puzzled expression on his face. “Fucked,” Sylar repeated. He had the irritating feeling he was talking to a child. “Had sex. Screwed around.” He still got no comprehensive response from either of the men. “What do you do here?” Sylar demanded.

“We kiss,” Quebec answered. “And we get inside the fort and hold each other.”

“That’s it?” Sylar let out a snort. “I’ll show you a better use for this place. Get naked.” To his great delight, both men obeyed him without question. He was starting to enjoy this place. He didn’t even need his powers to be powerful.

Once they were naked Sylar reached out and pulled Peter forward. The empath was docile as Sylar’s hands wandered over his exposed body. Sylar claimed his mouth again, running his fingers down Peter’s back and over his chest. There was still no response from Peter but Sylar could tell Quebec was watching so he dipped his hand lower, squeezing Peter’s cock.

“Like that?” Sylar asked in a purr. He turned to look at Quebec tauntingly. The man looked very upset but didn’t do anything about his anger. Sylar just smiled, kneading Peter’s ass in his hands. Peter shuddered under his touch, letting out a low moan.

“Quebec…”

“You want Quebec, you get down on your knees and beg,” Sylar snarled. Peter dropped immediately though the art of begging seemed lost to him. “Put your hands here,” Sylar instructed impatiently, placing his hands on Peter’s hips as a demonstration. “And your lips here.” He squeezed Peter’s cock.

It was very arousing to watch Peter follow his instructions perfectly. In moments he hand Quebec’s cock in his mouth. Quebec let out a gasp and Sylar undid his pants to stroke his own cock while he watched. Whatever they did to Peter, they didn’t erase his skills. He just didn’t know how to access them. That was where Sylar came in, whispering what Peter should do while he put his fingers inside the empath’s tight entrance.

Peter could heal so once Sylar stretched him with fingers, he shoved his cock inside. And all the while Peter was sucking on Quebec like the man was a tasty lollipop. The man had his eyes closed as he subtly rocked against Peter’s mouth, so he missed Sylar thrusting in and out of Peter’s body. He then wrapped his hand around Peter and started stroking him roughly.

Peter came first. It wasn’t a big surprise: he was an empath, and feeding off the lust from both Sylar and Quebec had to have tipped him over the edge faster. Quebec was next and Sylar forced Peter to stay there and swallow. Then it was the killer’s turn, and when he was done he pulled back to admire his work. Peter and Quebec were both trembling, flushed in arousal.

“That, children, is fucking,” Sylar concluded.

“I liked it,” Peter nodded. “I would like to fuck Quebec again.”

“I’ll show you how,” Sylar offered. They both seemed very eager to learn, after all. Sylar was definitely going to like this place.