Famous Last Words

[splice_of_life]

"And the way I can feel you...its...I never want to lose that."

Mohinder wakes with a start and stares up at the ceiling. Those weird dreams again. They need to stop. They're starting to affect his ability to do his job. Well, not that he'd slept much these five years since Sylar blew up. The alarm goes off a moment later and he pulls himself to his feet.

Another day in the lab. Another report due. A meeting with the president that afternoon? He'd have to check his schedule.

He's in the shower when he gets the call. That meeting with the president? Moved up to a breakfast briefing. Mohinder groans and slips on a silver and lapis lazuli ring before he heads down to the waiting limo.

Comments

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

He hardly needs to say it. Mohinder can taste the confession and he understands. He does. Even if he hates Matt for it. Dismay and pity and loathing and desire to make it better mix in his blood and in his stomach. He wipes his mouth as if to rid himself of the bitterness of it all.

"And you love him." No point in making it passed tense. "And you love me. Well, you love someone that I could potentially be. All I do is hurt people, Matt. And I'm so very sorry."

[mentalmastery.livejournal.com]

Matt winces at the accusation or whatever it's meant to be and looks away. "I'm not trying to get between you and him, and I sure as hell wouldn't feel like this if I didn't have all these memories, but I just ... yeah. Yeah, I think I do and I have no idea how to deal with any of it."

He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself, and looks up, frowning at him. "And you're wrong, by the way. You don't hurt people. We just keep getting put in these lousy situations and that's not your fault."

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

Mohinder shakes his head. "I know everything there is to know, everything he knows. We've shared too much blood." He leads Matt back upstairs, ring firmly in place on his hand. John would be so proud to see him this way. Or perhaps he'd weep for him... "Mērē bhagavāna... A version of me destroyed his world by being careless. Trusted someone and was killed. It's been bad since. He's been wandering for years now. I am always to blame. Always. You don't need to sugar coat it."

[mentalmastery.livejournal.com]

Matt scrubs a hand over his face to hide the fact that he's rolling his eyes. "I wasn't trying to. I don't blame you, I don't blame Peter, and tell you the truth, I don't think I really even blame him anymore. Pointing fingers isn't gonna help anyone, we just have to -- to, I don't know, just deal with this. It's all we really can do right now."

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

On his toes, Mohinder leans against Matt's back, one hand on his shoulder. He's hungry. He's given away a lot of blood. And Matt's there-- If he gave it to Sylar, he might as well give it to him. Yes, of course Mohinder knows that they're suppose to be having a conversation right now, it's meant to be serious, but he really can't help himself.

"There's a very easy way to do this. We can talk without having to talk. Telepathy, only deeper. I can control myself. You're special. It should be fine--"

Unlike the other humans. Mohinder's frustration brought out the worst in him.

"It won't hurt. I can make sure of it. I don't want to have to hunt."

[mentalmastery.livejournal.com]

Matt's pulse quickens in something like fear, almost able to sense Mohinder's intent before he explains himself. He doesn't pull away, though -- he can't for more than any influence Mohinder may or may not have over him.

"It sure as hell hurt when Sylar did it ... "

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

Dark fingers move down the side of Matt's neck. Lips press close. Closer still. It's impossible to keep the danger and sex from this. It's part of the game and who he is now. Mussed up, frizzy curls tickle his earlobe. "It takes better when it hurts, when you're afraid. It doesn't have to."

[mentalmastery.livejournal.com]

He shivers, unable to help himself, and leans ever so slightly into Mohinder. He hopes Sylar doesn't come out while they're in the middle of this. Things are complicated enough without him catching them in the act for as sexually charged as this feels.

"Okay. Just ... okay."

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

Feeding is feeding. Of course, Mohinder had just been dreaming happily of torturing Matt like this. There's something dreadfully wrong about letting himself do this. The desire to hurt is still there, but so is the desire to reconcile it all between them.

The initial bit is ferocious. The rest is anything but as Mohinder catches the gasping, collapsing man in his arms and lowers them both to the floor. Matt's blood is savory where Sylar's is sweet. It reminds him a little of how John's had been when he was mortal. The tang against his tongue jolts pleasure through his nerves.

[mentalmastery.livejournal.com]

Matt stiffens as his teeth break skin and sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, making the effort to keep himself from trying to get away, even if he has no idea that's the part that leads to pain. He's immediately grateful, either way, pleasure knifing through him instead, and he moans softly, arching up into Mohinder, only half aware that they've somehow ended up on the floor. He can see how Sylar might have gotten addicted to this.

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

Mohinder's slow. He takes his time, controlling the flow of blood as he feels Matt yielding to him.

This man tried to kill me hours ago. This man slept with my lover. This man has been kind to me through his pain. This man loves me.

The emotions are complicated as Mohinder wraps himself around the human, purring quietly against his soft neck.

[mentalmastery.livejournal.com]

Matt's own emotions are just as conflicting, vaguely tangible if only to Mohinder and beneath the pleasure rolling off of him. He doesn't seem to realize that he's an open book, though, or doesn't care, slipping trembling fingers up into Mohinder's hair in favor of thinking. And when Mohinder pulls away, he makes a small, discontent noise at the back of his throat, his skin hot and flushed despite the blood loss. If this is all he ever gets from Mohinder, it's enough.

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

Nose settled under Matt's earlobe, Mohinder runs a cat's tongue up his neck. His eyes close to slits in pleasure and he gently rocks Matt until the pleasure swimming from his mind disappears. Sylar ought to have felt most of it, and Mohinder reaches out to see if he's awake, to probe his mind for emotions. He's felt him feed before, but never on another person he truly cares about.

[heroslayer]

Sylar's more than simply awake -- he's standing in the doorway like some sick Peeping Tom, his eyes a bit darker than is human. He felt both Matt and Mohinder's pleasure, and it's left him just as wound up as they both are and just as conflicted, the black in his eyes not entirely from lust.

Part of him wants to rip Matt's throat out for touching what belongs to him, body and soul, the instinct to defend his mate entirely powerful. Another part is jealous of Mohinder for taking what once belonged to him, even if his relationship with Matt was forced on the both of them. Still another wants to join in, to bite Matt, too, if only to take enough blood to reopen their connection, to touch him, to touch both of them, to help relieve the needy tension left in pleasure's wake. Another is tempted to give Matt some of his blood, for both him and Mohinder to, to draw Parkman into their little pack as a pet to be shared. And final part of him is simply starving, the smell of blood already in the air sultry and tempting, and all that part of him wants is more of Matt's blood, no malice or affection behind it.

To say he's torn is an understatement and he wets his lips, not moving from the door.

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

The hand lightly stroking Matt's neck lifts towards Sylar. An invitation. And also a warning. Don't kill him. Mohinder is not that much older than Sylar, a matter of actual months, really, as he hadn't come into himself here until a few days ago. It doesn't matter in the slightest. The bond's there, their relationship progression is there and it's Mohinder that holds the cards.

Fixing this would be easy, he'd known it the moment he felt Sylar step into the doorway. He licks his lips invitingly.

[heroslayer]

Sylar hums, accepting Mohinder's singular condition, and is on the floor next to them in the blink of an eye. He rests a hand low on his stomach, dangerously close to his groin, and Matt groans, the touch too what and where he wants it to be anything less than torture and able to sense Sylar's intent. He arches up into his fingers and Sylar smiles just a touch cruelly, leaning down to meet him halfway, pressing his chest against his as he leans in to nuzzle at the other, unbroken side of his former chief of security's throat.

When he bites him, while it feels no less amazing than what Mohinder did to him, he's not quitenas lazy about it, his self-control leaving much to be desired even before he was a vampire. He drinks greedily, hurriedly, pulling back only once he feels Matt's heart start to flicker. The other man's breathlessness seems to have less to do with the blood loss and more to do with the fact that he's just been fed on by not one but two vampires and both men he loves, however.

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

It won't be the same again with Sylar, his blood is no longer human and can't provide him the nourishment he needs. Having Matt here, a strong, protective, caring man, is just the sort of security that Mohinder needs for both himself and Sylar. He doesn't love Matt. And yet, as he had said not all that long ago in the grand scheme of things, he could easily have loved him. And he understood why another version of him had.

Mohinder's hand lightly rests on Sylar's chest as he listens to Matt breathing. Sylar will need another person to feed on a little while later, but it's enough for now.

"Are we all right?" he asks, softly, already knowing the answer.

[heroslayer]

Sylar pauses in licking the blood from his lips long enough to nod.

Matt, on the other hand, while willing not to worry too much about what they have or had or will have, is a little confused. What was all that about? Was it a one time deal or is this something he can expect regularly now? Does it mean anything if it's the latter and, if so, what? He kind of wants to know if this is the start on some weird vampire three-way -- and he's pretty sure he won't be complaining if it is -- or if he's going to be spending as much time in a bathroom as he will under their mouths if this continues.

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

It's cruel to let him wonder, but Mohinder enjoys it. He's never been entirely able to stomach causing his victims fear and pain, but he is a killer. He has those instincts. And a little bit of that gets translated into leaving Matt on the hook. For now, he lets the larger man roll onto his back and, compact that he is, squirms easily under one arm. He sets his head on Matt's shoulder while his hand creeps under his shirt to slide against his chest and feel the slight beat of his heart. All eyes are on Sylar. No need for a silent go ahead. He and his lover ought to be on the same page.

[heroslayer]

It's terrible of Mohinder to keep Matt guessing … and Sylar loves it. He allows them both a cruel, crooked smile and then sobers, his expression turning mock-thoughtful as he pretemds to consider how he feels about Matt's involvement, and when he decides, the smile returns and he stretches out on his other side. He slings one arm over him, reaching for Mohinder beyond him and slips his other hand under the waist of his pants, fingers curling again his skin, and drags the backs of his nails back and forth over skin he's exposed, touching him but not enough to provide any relief.

Thoughts about what cruel pricks they are run through Matt's head, even as he squirms, trying to get their hands to go where he wants them. Thoughts about how he hopes Peter comes back to find them like this and is jealous -- retribution for his brother trying to ignore the three of them's existence twice now, not out of any bizarre desire to have his brother in bed -- float through Sylar's.

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

They're horrible, predatory creatures, moving close to touch noses and lips to warm, soft skin that smells nearly as good as the blood just beneath the surface tastes. Mohinder has an urge to bite him again and remembers John's way of waiting ten or so days in between feedings to give him time to recover. To have to wait ten days is going to be a lesson in futility.

Thank God you can heal.

Naughty, wicked hands join Sylar's. Mohinder's skin is so much softer, without the faint callouses developed through using a watchmaker's specialized tools for half of his life. They are far more delicate as well. And they know where to go. What to do.

There's a cruelty in this as well because Mohinder can pluck what Matt's lover, what his Mohinder, use to do and replicate it perfectly.

And Matt eats it up. How can he not? Here he is, over ten years older than the other two, a bit flabby, going grey, and still the focal point of two beautiful men?

[heroslayer]

Sylar's hands may be rougher, his touches firmer, but he still know exactly how to ge Matt to react exactly how he wants him to bodily, and he doesn't even have to go looking for it. There are, it seems, perks to having spent the last few years doing this sort of thing every night or near to it, and between his hands and mouth and teeth and Mohinder's, Matt's been begging steadily for a good five minutes by the time they push him over.

He traces his tongue over Matt's skin cruelly in the aftermath, wanting to make him work to catch his breath. He manages, however, despite Sylar's bes efforts, and when he does, he shifts against them, the movement almost cruel in its own right, and glances between the two of them, trying to decide who to reach for first to return the favor.

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

Mohinder's curious. Matt's lips are unlike Sylar's. They aren't exactly voluptuous, or kittenish on top, but the lower of the set looks so very good for nibbling and sucking on. Mohinder's not so good at denying himself. He gets and idea and latches on. He's always been that way. And generally, that includes a literal translation of the rule too.

While Sylar kisses Matt's throat, Mohinder goes for his mouth, hands slipping up into his hair. Different from Sylar, but not at all unpleasant. It's ends it quickly, however, pulling himself to his feet to remove his clothing.

If one set of pale hands on his caramel skin is appealing, imagine what two sets would be like?

He heads up to the President's bedroom, completely naked. They'll follow without even a mental beckoning.

[heroslayer]

And follow they do, Sylar stripping out of his clothes as they move up the two flights of stairs from the wine cellar to the upstairs bedroom. Matt's a touch more reluctant, once again worried about his body in comparison to Sylar and Mohinder, but he's still naked, too, by the time they reach the bed and he's more than happy to fall onto the matress alongside the Indian. He immediately catches Mohinder's mouth with his, his kisses soft and sweet where Sylar's are generally hungry and passionate, while the other man attaches his lips lazily to the geneticist's collarbone, nibbling at it, tempted to break skin and take blood, even if it will do nothing for him now. He still smells amazing, after all, if not like food.

And speaking of blood, he sends Mohinder an idle thought about offering Matt some of theirs, the need to repeat the cycle, to have a human pet, winning out over whatever else he was worried about the last time the idea came to mind.

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

He isn't expecting the care of Matt's kiss. It actually takes him a few moments to sink into it, to reposition himself according to the way Matt views him. Mohinder hooks an arm around his head and in the great big plush silk bed, he opens his mouth to Matt's tongue.

Mohinder purrs again, contentment rumbling in the back of his through before he catches Sylar's intention. He pulls his mouth away to gaze at Sylar's head, hair tickling his chin.

Bite me then and let him have a taste of it.

Mohinder's exotically hedonistic. Being fed on is still intoxicating.