Memories: Substitute Stalker
A/N: Hey guys. This installment in the Memories Series is post Questions and Answers, but pre Clean Slate. I have a few more school ones planned, so watch out for those.
Wanted you guys to know - the reason it's called the Memories Series!
I wrote Clean Slate first (the last installment) and, as I was writing, Sylar/Gabriel's memories are flashing before his eyes... And I thought I might as well write some of those memories. Kind of a lame name, but hey, who cares? Lol.
This is my first time writing intercourse in such... detail... actually, writing it at all. So I'm most likely going to suck... So forgive me for that...
R&R Pretty Please
I could feel him.
It was just an odd feeling at the back of my mind, like how prey is somehow able to sense a predator, but it was definitely there. Alarmed, I stood up and looked around me so abruptly that I accidently spilled the vial of acid on the table, burning my arm in the process. West jumped up with a small yelp so as not to get burned. As if we hadn't brought enough attention to us.
Clumsy should be a handicap.
'Damn,' I thought, quickly pushing up my shirt sleeves up so the teacher wouldn't notice the wet spot where the acid soaked through my shirt. Luckily the burns had already quickly healed, and if West noticed he didn't let on. I could almost sense Sylar's amusement and that quickly put me in a bad mood.
As the teacher made his way over to me, I couldn't help but mutter a curse directed at my adamant stalker, which I'm sure he heard. What was he doing here, anyway?
As my teacher scolded me for causing such a hazard I sighed, spurted out some lame explanation, and rolled my eyes at all the appropriate times. Even West was helpful, supporting my argument and telling the teacher neither of us were burned and that I'd be more careful next time - a favor I hoped I wouldn't have to repay later.
The professor eventually kicked me out of the class, after making sure all the other student's got an eye-full of his seemingly heroic deed of tossing me out. He seemed to be one of those teachers who got kicks out of making an example of a student, and I was certainly sick of it after a few minutes. Gratefully, I picked up my bags and walked out, slamming the door behind me.
Since my next period was lunch, I just went outside. I didn't want to be stalked all day, and I thought it better to face the creeper before I went to eat. So I sprawled out on a picnic table near the football field, not in sight of the school windows, and decided to get some sun while I waited. for him to seemingly magically appear, like he always seemed to.
As I assumed, he sat on he bench beside me after a little while, as if out of nowhere. I was about to snap at him for stalking me to school of all places, but then I actually looked at him.
"What are you wearing?" I asked him, my eyebrow raising as I propped myself up on my elbow. I pushed my sunglasses back up the bridge of my nose - a movement very similar to my father's, I noticed.
Looking him over, I begrudgingly admitted to myself that he looked good, probably posing as a substitute teacher or something. He was wearing a pair of thin-rimmed glasses that I did find rather endearing. But, instead of the usual black, collared shirt, he was wearing a small-stitched, plaid collared shirt and a tie.
The man before me, who seemed the opposite of a man capable of killing a person in a plethora of different ways, laughed. "What, you don't like?" Sylar asked me with his trademark smirk.
I didn't answer and, thank God, he wasn't looking for one.
"My serial killer uniform was dirty," he teased me.
"What are you doing here, anyway?" I asked, quickly getting back to what I really wanted to know.
He seemed to hesitate for a moment, so I butted in. "I mean, not that stalking people is a creepy thing or anything. Especially for you," I said sarcastically, giving him the most innocent look I could muster at that moment, laying back on the picnic table.
"Oh, very funny, Claire," he said with an eye-roll. I guess in all the time he had spent with me this last month or so caused some of my actions to rub off on him. For some reason, I was happy about this.
"Am I wrong?" I asked him, hiding a smile, and he seemed to smile in return, genuinely amused.
I looked around. No one was in sight, and wouldn't be for a good thirty minutes. I slipped off the top of the table and sat beside him, tempted to tease him by sitting on his lap, but didn't want to tempt fate. No one was with us - I could afford to be nice to him. I felt like such a bitch, like the teeny-bopper, popular cheerleader I used to be... but it was true, as horrible as my behavior was.
"Well, who would have known that bad ass Sylar was a geek in high school," I said teasingly, pulling at his tie playfully and he laughed.
"Not so much in high school, actually," His deep, brown eyes seemed to darken and he became lost in a memory. "This is what I used to wear. Before I became... Well, before everything went to Hell," he admitted softly, his hand covering mine.
"And don't call me that, Claire, please," he told me and I ignored him, pulling my hand back from his grasp and crawling back onto the picnic table to distance myself from him once more.
"Oh, well, I pretty much wear the same thing I always did," I responded, trying to bring the cheerfulness back to the conversation. This was one of the most normal conversations we'd ever had, something I appreciated. I wanted to be as normal as I could.
"Not really," he said, a familiar predatory look clouding his eyes and I gave him a questioning look.
"What do you mean?" I asked him, turning my head to look at him. A splinter dug into my ear, but it didn't hurt. Even if I could feel it, my attention was now on him.
"I mean..." he said, straddling me on the table, his knees parallel with mine and his hands on either side of my head, causing me to look back up at him, "I think I like this uniform better." He said, one of his hands reaching down to trace his fingers along my leg.
"You're blocking my sun," I pointed out cynically, trying to get myself off the high I was starting to feel from my hormones going into overload. I felt both pleased and disappointed that I decided to wear my revealing uniform today - I loved getting his attention, I couldn't deny that. But if we were caught... We would be in deep shit. Of course I had heard of teenagers fucking each other senseless behind the bleachers after school hours, but it was the middle of the day, in a place students would be flocking to very soon. Lunch would be starting in less than half an hour, and if someone saw us, or heard us... Everyone would know about us, and Dad would torture him until his immortality gave way to his demise - if that could happen.
"Don't care," he said, lowering his face down to scrape his nose across my collar bone. I shivered.
"Why do you like this uniform better than my old one?" I asked him, trying to hold onto reality.
"Don't get me wrong, I love you in red... But this skirt is much less... restraining," he said, searching for the right words as the neatly divided pleats moved aside under his gentle touch. His lips brushed against my ear and I shivered again even though the sun shown down on us.
Sylar captured my lips in a heated kiss, and I replied with the same amount of hunger.
"You're so beautiful," he cooed when he finally released my lips, kissing down my collarbone to my shirt as I gasped for breath. A strong wave of guilt hit me once more - he was praising me again, showering me with compliments I knew I did not deserve.
I gasped when he brushed his fingers against the thin fabric of my panties, the gentle caress seeming to burn against my skin. It was the magic he worked with his fingers that made me forget that I was numb - it was almost comical how benign a lover he was compared to the violent man I used to take him for.
He seemed more gentle now - something had changed in him, and I didn't know what. This tenderness was just so different from the passionate, angry, violent fucking that I was so used to with him. Maybe it was because he was finally in control - something I never allowed him to be.
Turning my head to his, I captured Sylar's lips once more and my tongue battled for dominance. Lunch was going to start soon, and we didn't have the time for the gentle lovemaking he seemed to crave suddenly.
"What are we doing, Claire?" he asked me.
I looked up at him, like a dear caught in headlights. "What do you mean?" I asked him, sliding my body against his like a complete ho. I knew how much he wanted me, and the feeling was mutual - why waste our time with emotions that would probably lead to our destruction.
He slid off of me, sitting on the bench. He reached into his pocket as if to see if he still had something, although I had no idea what.
"Sylar - "
"Don't call me that, Claire," he snapped and I sat up, straightening my clothes in the process.
"We have forever, why do we have to know all the answers right now? Why does this have to be anything?" I snapped back at him and that seemed to shut him up.
"No one has forever, Claire," he told me before walking off in a huff. I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around my knees, only vaguely catching his parting words.
"See you in Math - don't forget your calculator."
That. was. hard. My first time EVER writing a sexual scene. I mean, they technically didn't do it, but it was hard anyway.
I must have rewritten this scene 5 times, and the end result was so different than what I would have originally thought. But I'm pleased with it.
There will definitely be at least two more school ones related to this one in the Memories series.... So keep an eye out!