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( Sylar squeezes and rubs his aching erection, wanting to come with Mohinder, but the scientist actually surprised him with his quickness (which he will absolutely accept the blame/compliment for!) He doesn't even mind the grip on his hair, nudging at those needy fingers with his head.

He works his throat around the other man's spasms, swallowing eagerly. Dark lashes will flutter and equally dark eyes glance up, briefly, to try and catch Mohinder's eyes as he drinks down everything he has to offer. It tastes strangely sweet, almost, tinged with whatever the fuck he injected into himself.

Really though... he'd been wanting this for so long, his desire could be clouding what was actually there.

When the crashing waves begin to ebb away, Sylar moves his mouth away, licking and moaning lewdly until he's leaning back on his haunches, with one hand still on Mohinder's hip. His other works himself, stroking the full hardness in his grip. )

Have you given a blowjob before, Mohinder?

( The question's as much curiosity as it is teasing. The pink of his tongue flashes at the corner of his lips, his hand grips Mohinder's hip more tightly. Those are the only warnings Mohinder would receive before he'd find himself on his knees once again, this time brought down by telekinetic force. The 'grip' fades as quick as it arrived and he watches him through eyes darkened with lust. )

[Mohinder is a bit too busy basking in this bliss to answer that question, thank you- but of course Sylar using that moment to turn the tables. It is interesting, how instead of fear Mohinder feels exhilaration at being moved forcibly with the telekinesis. Even he's a little surprised by it. But he is one of them now. Maybe that really was all he wanted, to be on the same level.

He lands gracefully, almost as if he'd intended to sink to the ground himself. The only indication it was a surprise is a delighted giggle as he stares directly into Sylar's eyes.]

I have- well, once. But you of all people know how quickly I pick up on things, hmm?

[He leans forward for a soft, plying kiss, one hand coming up to rest gently on the other man's neck as support. Or maybe he just couldn't go any longer without touching Sylar. He murmurs against Sylar's lips.]

Let me give it a try, would you?

i- i wasn't-

[ oh, but he was going to ask for help. maybe just, you know, not in those words. ]

it isn't help that i need, it's... more areas of expertise. i'm good at one thing, and that's infiltration. being quiet. i need someone with tech know-how, or someone who can be convincing. i'm a bad liar.

[ he stops to lean over his cup, getting in close with a small smirk playing on his lips. he doesn't trust this guy, but on the other hand, it's likely no one trusts him, either. ]

know anyone like that?

( Sylar gives him a look at that stammering, but said nothing. He simply waits. It wouldn't be long. 3...2....and there it is. Don't mind him grinning like the cat who just ate the canary. )

I knew a kid who could talk to machines. But, that's not something I possess. I do have some rules with what I do.

( Another drink, smaller and neater than the last. )

That said, I have a few tricks up my sleeves with machines. You need a good liar, I'm your guy. ( His gaze shifts pointedly to the barista, and he winks over at her, causing her to noticeably stammer with her current customer. Grinning, he turns back to the Ethan, his voice a low conspiratorial purr. ) I'd much rather kiss you than her.

[ ethan observes, knowing when it's best to just listen and when it's best to dive in. he isn't sure if this guy knows more than him, or if he's just being cocky and trying to show off, but either way, that sentiment isn't reassuring. ]

listen, i agree. i'd rather kiss you, by far. but you just told me you're a good liar, and you expect me to believe you?

[ a pause. green eyes scan sylar, searching for more giveaways. when there are none, he resigns. this is his man, unfortunately. he was hoping he wouldn't have to call in help. ]

my name is ethan. i guess we're in business, then, aren't we?

( Ethan gives too much of himself away and Sylar enjoys that far more than he should. )

Call me Gabriel. Be a good boy and I'll tell you my actual name. And, yes, yes we are.

( Sylar winks over the rim of his cup as he finishes off his drink. )

Tell me about the job. Details. Location, target, what is your end goal here?

[ jesus christ did he just tell ethan to be a good boy god have mercy. ]

uh--

[ please stop stuttering. ]

i-i--

[ PLEASE. ]

yeah. the job-- uh. arc energy. you know, the douchebags who think it's cool to drain the mountainside of it's natural resources? the ones who hired me want to put that to a stop. so we're going to disable them from the inside.

[ he has ulterior motives, but this is what he was hired to do. if ethan can help it, they'll be in and out before they know it. gabriel, or whatever, might never even have to know what his motives are. ]

i'm breaking in tonight. [ a pause. ] please don't be a cop.

( The very second he hears that stammering, Ethan gets Sylar's complete attention. His sharp predatory gaze observes him, notes the flushed cheeks, the rapid pulse and darkened eyes.

Oh.

Oh he likes this one. )

Now, if I was a cop, would I tell you to give me road head on the drive over?

( The mission parameters were noted, filed away, to be examined later. Right now, Ethan was a shiny new toy, his flustering like catnip.

And he's all mine. )

[ and just like that, they're on the same page.

ethan holds gabriel's gaze, just for a moment. to challenge. to see if he's serious. he's met with no objections, nothing to say otherwise, so he glances down. the nervousness begins to set in. fuck, what is wrong with him? he's been dominated before, sure. it's always been for fun, and it excited him. but this is.. this is. wow. he's flustered. ]

alright. [ ethan picks up his mug and finishes it, quickly. he drops a twenty on the table, then rises to his feet. if gabriel is observant, he'll notice two blade hilts tucked into ethan's waistband, sheathed comfortably and out of sight. they flash for only a moment as he adjusts his jacket.

as nonchalantly as he can, ethan glances back at gabriel. ]

in that case. where are you parked?

( No objections at all. Nor would he even blink until Ethan looks away first. The flustering is one thing, but the sight of nervousness gives him a quarter-second's pause to wonder: is my new toy just a curious virgin? Such a thing wouldn't deter him, exactly, only make him decide on a correct approach.

It's a blink-and-you'd-miss-it sort of thought. No one has yet to turn him down. Well, except Claire. But she was the exception to the rule, given their unique circumstances.

Finished with his own coffee, he's content to simply watch his new partner for a moment. The blades do get noticed, simply as Sylar is watching for every new detail. At the question, there's a quirk to his lips, a tiny sneer. )

I'm not. Actually, there's a bit of a problem with my car...

( The sentence trails off and Sylar stands, motioning with his fingers for Ethan to follow him. The boy would likely follow him anywhere now, with or without being told, but something tells him, Ethan likes being told what to do.

just a little bit.

Once outside and away from the door and prying eyes, he'll finally finish that sentence. )

See, the problem is? There's not a car. Not yet.

( And that's when he'll grab Ethan, hold him close, and take off into the clouds. )

[ fortunately for them both, ethan is not the shy virgin type, usually. he hasn't met someone with such a commanding presence, is all. it's a lot for him; it's usually his role. he's no stranger to wooing and to seducing and playing the game, but. gabriel's just going in dry, huh?

ethan gets to his feet without thinking, and. uh. this is it. this is absolutely how stupid people die. this is the end of ethan's life, here, as he follows sylar out of the shop and to where he, presumably, will get murdered.

arms take him, pulling him in close. ethan's brain is running at a thousand miles a minute, trying to quickly piece together what could be happening. is it affection? getting handsy? is it dangerous; is gabriel whatever trying to hurt him? his guard is up, and it's conflicted.

what ends up happening, though, is the last thing he expects. he instinctually pulls close to sylar, holding his arms around his neck and burying his face into his shoulder. he's terrified of heights. so terrified, in fact, that he doesn't even scream, just clings to his new friend (?) for dear life. gods, please don't drop him. ]

( Sylar has no intentions of dropping his new toy. He intends to damage him, slowly, over time, not all at once. There's no fun or game in that.

So he holds on, winding his arms tightly around Ethan's waist and upper back. Thankfully for the both of them, whatever else this ability granted him, it gave him enhanced strength to carry someone with ease.

They would not be in the air for long, nor would they even travel a great distance. Just to a park one town over. Once hidden by trees, he slows until they're drifting and floating in the air at a reasonable pace, slowly descending. )

Relax, I've got you. You can look around, enjoy the view. It's like dancing in the clouds.. just at supersonic speeds.

(((continued from here.)))

The finer points of mortality vs immortality isn't something he's ever really thought about. He's well aware that he isn't 'immortal' but introspection is very much not a strong suit. Billy is a very 'in the moment' thinker. If that moment doesn't include fucking, fighting or the 'telly it doesn't tend to really hold his attention for long.

Right now, Syler has his full attention.

Black eyes move from the outstretched finger to watch as one button after another goes skittering off. The other man's powers are endlessly fascinating to him and he openly admires this particularly creative way he's putting it to use. Naughty and flirty... very nice.

But the question draws him back to serious things and he looks up to actually consider the answer. Other than what they'd already talked about, does he have any? He's done things he's found didn't particularly do much for him. Usually, when he truly doesn't like something it's situational rather than the thing itself.

"I don't like being restrained." He says it with a simple honesty. He had been surprised that Syler was willing to simply accept his word on respecting boundaries. He wouldn't have trusted himself without some sort of solid assurance. Somehow it seems only fair to return the favor.

Yes, he'd been able to break free so far... but Billy knows that if he tried hard enough Syler could probably do it. The difference between the times Syler had tried already were a definite learning curve. And his strength isn't boundless.

(((Hope you don't mind the format change. This is just easier for long tags on a phone. And new years tags are... very slightly inebriated.)))

Edited (Booze fingers) 2021-01-01 07:07 (UTC)

((format change is perfectly fine! ))

There's a delay between one button popping off and the next once Billy answers him. No restraints... physical, or telekinetic? The question is there to ask, he knows, and he might even get an honest answer. After a second of consideration, he decides that ultimately, either/or were off the table.

Something of a scary thought, actually. Since gaining the ability from such a weak, pathetic man, he'd relied on telekinesis as much as he consumed air. It was a reflex, a literal flick of the wrist and he had the world at his fingertips. Was one night (hopefully more) with this man worth it enough to give up his favorite ability?

Yes, he decides almost immediately, yes it damn well was.

"Done." Sylar replies, punctuating the word with one final button destruction. "No restraints from me. Physical or psychic. Now, my other abilities..." Sylar stands, casually tosses off his outer shirt, and walks leisurely over to Billy. As he does, he points, from the top of Billy's belt to where the shirt(s) end, straight up the center. The layers are sliced cleanly through by this invisible scalpel.

"Well. We'll just have to get creative, won't we?"

( It's as daunting as it is exhilarating, having Mohinder moving with his power, instead of against it. Something to remember for later, when they inevitably argue again. Would Mohinder be so willing then?

Thoughts that dissipate when their lips meet, with Sylar all too happily giving in to that request. He grins, almost laughing, hormone-drunk, and the kiss is more soft and playful than it is passionate. )

How could I refuse such a request? It's not as if I could ever deny you anything...

( That last is a whispered oath between breaths, hardly aware he's saying it. Once its out, it's there, and he doesn't shy away from the truth.

But other pressing matters need attending to, and it's his turn to move swiftly to his feet. His knees and muscles ache after being on his haunches for so long. Thankfully, there's a tuft or dark curls to bury his hand into and keep himself steady.

Sylar shoves down his pants and underwear with his hand, using some psychic persuasion too, and tugs, gently but with some insistence, on Mohinder's hair urging him forward. )

I'm happy to be your new science project, Mohinder...

A bit of rough and tumble is one thing, he can enjoy that. It might even be exciting with someone who can match him, telekinetically or otherwise. But nothing that reminds him being chained, or worse... that bloody chair.

OH hello.. such finely honed control of that power was not only enviable but more than a little titilating. Especially as it tickled, ever so gently brushing the hair trailing the journey from navel to chest. It makes him keenly aware of how much better Syler is at healing. The excitement has him moving closer... all but eliminating the distance between them. Taking the liberty of removing his shirt in the process. Though he does stop just shy enough so Syler has plenty of opportunity to stop and keep them from colliding. Crashing into each other at this point wouldn't exactly be sexy, would it.

"Hmmmn Show me the electricity trick again." He looks him, eyes gleaming with that excitement and hunger. He wants to feel it, taste it just a little. Just enough to know it without risking wakeing Daddy up. Don't want to end things prematurely, not now when it's just getting to the good bits.

Edited 2021-01-02 06:23 (UTC)

[Mohinder raises an eyebrow at the admission, and don't worry- he will be remembering that for later. It seems inane to think that perhaps, through all this, they both just needed to get laid. But so much effort had been put into denying this connection, and Mohinder can finally see that now.

He serves as a steady point to lean on, as Sylar stands, and he helps the other man with his pants. It's more of an excuse to run his hands over Sylar's bare thighs. He follows the tug on his hair, just like he did with the telekinesis. He takes Sylar's erection in hand, stroking it experimentally as he licks at the tip. And he smiles.]

Observation number one- you taste amazing. Now to move on to finding stimulus points...

[Mohinder almost brings up that his own hormones- perhaps even pheromones- are certainly altered and perhaps that's having an effect on the both of them. But...well, they'll get to that later. Sylar's sure to have noticed it already. For now, Mohinder is learning. And he loves learning.

He leans back in and takes Sylar in his mouth, slowly moving down until it starts to become difficult. His tongue then swirls around the underside of Sylar's cock, and he pulls out to lick the whole thing in long swipes, then taking it back in hand again and stroking with slightly tighter force as he licks around the tip. Into his mouth it goes again, slightly deeper now, and the whole time he's listening for any cues Sylar may give him. Mohinder is a very attentive partner, as it turns out, for anyone who managed to handle his abrasive personality.]

Just to be fair and even, Sylar removes his undershirt as well and, compared to Billy, he's more skin and muscle than hair. At the request, he grins, holds out his hands to his sides, and summons tiny jolts of electricity. As before, they dance across his fingertips like tiny spiked worms, threading into and through his skin.

"Are you sure you're not related to Dr. Frankenstein?" Sylar asks playfully. He moves one of those hands to the tuft of hair adorning Billy's stomach, unable to resist that furry allure. The electricity is low, crackling like static upon the skin, with a slightly stronger jolt now and then sneaking in.

His other hand he leaves by his side, waving coquettishly, knowing Billy would direct it where he wanted.

A lascivious gaze roves over Syler before being drawn inevitably to his hands.

"Funny you should say that." Billy gives a cheshire grin. He really wouldn't be surprised if the guy was real. But he doesn't elaborate before Syler is giving him a more practical demonstration. The feel of that first teasing tingle makes him close his eyes and hum. It's subtly different from what flows through the wires. More fluid. Or like red vs white wine.
When the sharper jolt first pricks him, he inhales sharply... but it's not pain. "Hmmm... tickles."

His eyes open and lock onto Syler's. He wants more than a few sparks. Billy reaches out to the hand at his side, fingers almost brushing together... then he pulls the electricity to himself. As much as he wants to just take it all in, he holds back and lets it dance across his skin until it flickers and fades instead. "Ooh, that's so nice!"

That's earned Syler a good hard kiss. So he'll just grab him and pull him in for a quick snog.

Sylar delights in showing off, even more so when it's so well received. Electricity wasn't usually one of his kinks but he's discovering, quite quickly, that it very much was... at least, with the right person. And while he expected something to happen, Billy taking the electricity into himself wasn't one of the ideas.

He controls the current, manipulates it to move across the other's hands, mostly without incident. It makes for a strangely adorable image but he, wisely, keeps that thought to himself.

He moves willingly into that hold, chuckling wickedly. One of his hands, now without the sparks, grasps the side of Billy's neck to hold him closer. It's out of habit, a light hold that only becomes tighter when the kiss deepens. Just like last time, all tongue and hints of teeth but unlike before, he doesn't wait for the other to shove him away. A tiny jolt forms at the tip of his tongue, soon arching along Billy's just to see how much he really enjoyed the lightning.

Wasn't usually and not what he expected pretty much sum up the whole thing on Billy's end. He was really just taking the piss out of him at first. Consequence free casual violence was like getting a christmas and birthday present all rolled in one. And then Syler tossed in a hint of sex on top of it all...

As for the current that Syler is measuring out to him, he only sips at the potential there. But what he does take, he does so greedily. It's like having your own personal battery, or pet electric eel. Only better and way more fun.

The new jolt takes him by surprise and he breaks the kiss, eyes ragged and a wild, manic grin plastered to his face. Now that is a surprise he can get into. He lifts Syler just enough off his feet that he can get him to the closest wall, not holding back as he slams him up against it. No fangs yet but he doesn't care if his already sharp teeth draw blood with the next feral kiss.

He's still not fucking you Syler... Probably... Maybe... damn if it didn't just get a hell of a lot more tempting.

Edited 2021-01-04 05:57 (UTC)

Tea with milk? You mean you don't just heat up water in a microwave and dip the tea bag into the cup right after?

I'll be right over.

( Sylar likes nothing more than to push buttons and tea certainly seemed a sensitive issue here. He hadn't expected today to end, or rather begin as the case might be, with possibly investigating someone else's crime work, but he had to admit, the entire idea intrigued him greatly.

And the address was surprisingly close; walking-distance close, in fact, and while that might've concerned him, he pays it little mind. He simply jogs right over and within fifteen minutes he's there and ringing the buzzer. )

( He hasn't bothered responding to the man's last text - really, apart from implying a completely abhorrent treatment of tea (microwave? teabag in boiling water?? utter nightmare fuel), there's little he can add that won't be a waste of energy. He's on his way. To tell him more about his mind... flashing.

Under normal circumstances, Sherlock would deem this firmly outside his area of expertise and therefor, irrelevant. But on the other hand... Well. If the man's actually, what was it, technically a serial killer, he's interesting more or less by default. Sherlock turns the candle between his fingers. Waits for Mrs. Hudson to let in the stranger by the door (she does, eventually, after a couple of rings) and stays in his chair, the one opposite him empty because John's... not in.

Can't remember where he went, really. )

((link to prior tfln which I should've put in the last post but had a derp.))

( Dressed in various grays, Sylar had been slouching against the doorframe, expecting a cop of some sort; when it was the kindly Mrs. Hudson who greeted him, he'd immediately straightened, putting on a respectable face. There were very few types of people Sylar would do that for, but motherly sorts were definitely still one of them. Lots of 'thank you's' and small talk as she walks with him upstairs.

In no small time, he's alone with his unexpected texting partner. Rather than address the candle at all, he looks the other man over with a curious glint in his eye. )

You are hardly what I expected a cop to look like.

(( ooc: if relevant, please just run with whatever you like for any further case details - the details below are loosely based on the veiled lodger. ))

( He can hear the stranger small-talking with Mrs. Hudson all the way up the stairs - makes her day, doesn't it, that someone's taken an active interest in her, dear God. Face mostly impassive, he looks up. Takes in the other man's appearance (clothes; gray, relatively neutral, clever choice, be it conscious or not) and files it away, mentally, along with what he's gathered thus far.

So, he might kill people and boast flashy powers but you certainly wouldn't know by looking at him. He also isn't looking at the candle in question and that's wise, considering the many more important details he could be taking in as he stands there, newly arrived. Careful, he thinks and files this away too, though such new, un-tested data might very well soon be altered or replaced. )

You certainly don't much look like a serial killer but then again - who does? ( He balances the candle on the arm rest, narrowing his eyes a fraction. ) The old lady came to me for advice yesterday because her newest tenant baffles and worries her in equal measures. It's a woman in her late-thirties who takes to wearing Venetian masks indoors and out, collecting and creating hundreds of candles like this - (A nod. ) - only to store them in her room. Two nights ago, apparently, a threatening message appeared on the kitchen floor - burn, it said, and be burned.

( Sherlock looks up at the other man, then gives a light shrug. )

Hardly a murder inquiry but a little odd, perhaps, if we're honest.

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