A/N: [Written for Livejournal user, frogs_alive for the Xmas in July challenge on LJ's lukexsylar comm.] This is my first slash Heroes piece, so there's a lot to be proud of on my part, lol. Things will appear in parentheses as you go through the fic - those are Luke's sub-conscious thoughts (I'm was trying something new, hopefully they won't annoy anyone? Sorry in case they do. T-T).

Characters|Pairing: Luke, Sylar, random old guy | Luke/Sylar

Prompts: Suffocating / Lost and alone / Trying but failing

Spoilers: No real spoilers except for a minor one from 3x13 "Building 26" - This is a bit of an AU of the events that take place at the diner in that episode. The Hunters don't come for Sylar, but he for some reason still leaves Luke behind. He lets the teen wander off for a few hours before deciding to come back for him.

Warnings: AU, slash, smut, underage, angst, D/s, mild BDSM, hurt/comfort, language, maybe mild OOC (I'm not real sure, do let me know if there is any)

Disclaimer/Claimer: I own nothing belonging to related to Heroes or it's characters. Only the old guy is mine. o.O; And I don't want him all that much.

Word count: 2,235


What Was Lost Will Be Found Again

With a grunt, Luke continued walking along the side of the road. Several cars had stopped, offering him a ride to the next town, the next gas station, the next anything. The men were all the same in appearance - seedy, overweight, and hungry for a teenage boy to fuck. If there was one thing traveling with Sylar had taught him, much less commonsense shouted at him, was that he should just keep trudging up the road by himself. Sylar would probably have killed the men on sight and the thought played with Luke's mind one or twice before he shook it away, ashamed by it.

Fifteen miles he had walked and already he was exhausted. He hadn't really paid attention to which direction he had set off after leaving the diner, so now he was very lost (and alone, because after all, Sylar wasn't by his side) and wondering if he should check into the seedy motel he had stopped in front of. A small breeze kicked up dirt into his eyes, sending him into a coughing attack as he stumbled slightly and rubbed his eyes. Clearing an eye, he made a beeline for the check-in office, fumbling in his pockets with his free hand for some cash as walked. The owner, a tired looking man who was over seventy and far beyond his expiration date, held out a gnarled hand.

"Fifteen bucks for three hours. Forty-five for the whole night." He drawled, his voice raspy.

"Rip off." Luke grumbled, forking out fifteen dollars and slapping it onto the desk. He wasn't about to touch the old man's hand, which was yellowish and purple, almost like a bruised tree root.

Key in hand, he wandered off in search of his room, relieved to find it and get inside. Happy to see a bed, Luke flopped down on the mattress, which greeted him with a puff of dust, instantly suffocating him. Apparently it had been a long while since someone had used this room, but he tried not to pay too much mind to that slightly sickening thought. Standing and coughing to clear his nose and throat, he grabbed a pillow and dusted off the bed before plopping back down on it. Laying on his back and staring up at the ceiling his mind wandered to his mom (and not Sylar) and what she might be doing. Had she (he) forgiven him? Not that he done anything wrong (had he?) to garner forgiveness.

Pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes, Luke willed himself to sleep. Try as he might though, he couldn't and finally ceded to just lying there in silence. Except silence wasn't on the menu for the evening. The door slammed open, making him jump as sweat broke out over him as he momentarily wondered if it was the Hunters. Had they followed him somehow? Instead, Sylar, dark and dangerous, entered the room, closing the door behind him with a flick of his hand. Luke opened his mouth to speak, but another hand gesture and his jaw snapped shut.

"I leave you alone for a few minutes and you wander off into oblivion." Sylar's voice was icy. "I yell at you once and you sulk off like a child."

Tears filled Luke's eyes in anger as he recalled Sylar's words from that morning. The ones that basically told him to piss off and that he wasn't needed around anymore. It had been the older man to catch the tantrum and sulk off, not him. The teen knew though that even if had been able to say those words, it wouldn't have matter, because when Sylar believes he's right, there is no room for discussion. So he sat there, confused, angry, and slightly embarrassed that he was crying (why was he crying?). Despite all those emotions, Luke was relieved that the man had returned for him. It was a strange feeling, one that made his stomach flutter with excitement (that 'special' kind).

Sylar slung off his coat, draping it over a wooden chair and sat at the edge of the bed. The motion reached the teen, making him slide a little closer to the dangerous man. Inches away from each other, Luke was the one to suddenly wrap relieved arms around the man. For the first time in the last several hours, he realized how afraid he had been of being alone (without Sylar). He knew what the man was capable of and yet, he still felt a sense of safety in his presence. Inhaling deeply, the teen buried his face in the silent man's neck, finding the smell of sweat and aftershave oddly soothing.

"Stop clinging to me." Sylar said, pushing the teen away.

Hurt, Luke pouted and stared into his lap. Fingers grazed his face, making him look up in surprise. With an unreadable look on his face, Sylar pulled him into a kiss, using his powers to hold the teen against him. Instinct made him struggle and try to pull away, but with the dark haired man's power holding him, it was more of a squirming motion. Fairly benign and pathetic actually. The kiss, once he relaxed enough to enjoy it, wasn't exactly sweet and gentle, but it had hints of those traits. Specifically in the way Sylar sucked on his bottom lip and tongue, sending small chills through the teen's thin frame. Hands in his short hair, pulling his head back suddenly so Sylar could taste his neck, licking and biting at pale flesh.

Mewing, and feeling stupid for making the noise, Luke squirmed against the man. His body beginning to tingle and heat up the further down his neck Sylar kissed and bit. Feeling a little foggy, things seeming too surreal to be real, Luke raised his arms when he felt his shirt being pulled up. Teeth at his collarbone and soft fingers at his nipples made him gasp loudly, only faintly registering the fact he could use his mouth again and thus move in general. A hand slipped down, undoing his jeans and reaching in, making Luke buck suddenly in surprise as he finally realized where things were going (he knew already, right?). His hands on Sylar's shoulder's for support as the man used both hands to slip his jeans and underwear down as far as his kneeling form allowed. Before he could even ready himself for the second touch, Sylar was already holding his harden member, stroking him with a light touch.

The teen's fingers dug into Sylar's still clothed shoulders, surprised by the hard muscles he felt beneath his fingers. A bite on his neck, hard and painful made Luke cry out as the dark haired man began stroking him with increasing pressure. Just when he was about to burst, Sylar stopped and pushed him back on to the bed, making him fall awkwardly with his legs slightly trapped beneath him and his pants making it difficult to stretch out his legs. Standing, the older man removed his clothing one bit at a time, taking the time to neatly fold each piece. About ready to burst, and still struggling to straighten his legs, the teen whimpered in mixed desire and annoyance. A small smile crept into the corner of Sylar's mouth as he watched with growing amusement the boy's reactions. Finally relenting, he helped the boy out of his jeans and underwear, tossing them hastily to the floor.

Without warning, he grabbed Luke's ankle, dragging him to the edge of the bed and flipped him over. Luke was about to protest when grating words made him close his mouth quickly.

"I'll kill you if say a word." It was clear Sylar was enjoying the silence the most of everything that was happening.

There was the sound of a bottle being squeezed behind him, followed by warm liquid against his anus. Then an intruding finger entered the wet entrance, probing and prodding. Luke wiggled against the finger wanting more, all the time aware of the fact that it was probably going to hurt. Another finger joined the first, then another and the teen was biting into his wrist to keep silent. So far it was beginning to hurt, as he had guessed, but Sylar was stretching him. While it hurted he understood he was getting him ready for the penetration that was going to happen any second now. When it came, Luke inhaled sharply, more tears rolled down his face as he felt his insides being stretched a bit more then Sylar had done. The sudden presence was gone after a moment, before it pushed in again, this time filling him more then it had down the first time. Who would have guessed Sylar could be gentle (loving)?

The gentleness ended after another pull out and push in - Sylar was digging into his hips now. His strong fingers, so oddly soft, gripped him as he pushed deeply into him and began fucking him like he was going to get a prize for popping the teen's cherry. Luke shouted obscenities, pain and pleasure combined as he gripped the bedsheets tightly. Having nothing compare this to, Luke figured this was as good as sex could get. Something Sylar proved him wrong two minutes later when he grabbed his penis and began to jerk him off as he continued to thrust into him. Young and inexperienced, Luke didn't last longer then several combined strokes and thrusts before he came, crying out for Sylar, something he had managed not to do the whole time.

Except he didn't say Sylar.

"GABRIEL!" Was what spilled out of the teen's mouth.

Instantly Sylar stopped his thrusting, even though he hadn't came yet. A hand came down hard on Luke's ass as the dark haired man pulled out, still hard and throbbing. Luke didn't know if he had said something wrong. He knew Sylar's real name, and he couldn't recall the man telling him not to use it, so what had been the harm?

"Get up."

"N-no." Why did his voice shake (fear)?

"Get up!" This time Sylar grabbed his still kneeling form by the hair and made the teen stand.

For a second Luke didn't dare meet Sylar's eyes, afraid of what he'd find there. Except, Sylar was kissing him, this time softly. It was kind of frightening but so hot, the teen decided he must have said something the man enjoyed. Sylar moved away, grabbing his hand as he sat on the bed, scooting up so he was a decent ways up it. Settled in, he motioned for Luke to crawl up to him. Confused but strangely willing, he did the best he could, coming to a stop above Sylar's lap, his legs on either side of the legs beneath him. He quickly realized what the position was for and without waiting for Sylar to show him (so eager to please), he grabbed Sylar's penis and lowered himself onto it. It was a new kind of pain at this angle and stretching his legs slightly only seemed to intensify the feeling of Sylar filling him.

Fingers dug into his ass, and together they rocked and thrust together, filling the room with grunts and cries. Like pieces to a puzzle. When they (Sylar) were finally sated a few minutes later, Luke collapsed from exhaustion with Sylar still in him. He feel asleep to the still rapidly beating sound of the dark haired man's heart.


Luke awoke to the sound of banging on the motel room's door. He stirred, stretching and rubbing his face as he realized he had fallen asleep at some point in the last three hours. Scratching at a small itch on his chest, Luke realized he was wearing clothes. With a start, he bolted upright in bed, touching his clothes as he did so and looking around the bedroom. All his clothes were on and there wasn't a sign of Sylar anywhere. The continuous banging at his door made him stand and stumble in confusion to the door, his eyes still sweeping the room for signs of the other man and still seeing none. Throwing open the door, he recognized the owner of the motel immediately scowling at him.

"Time's up. Either dish out fifteen more bucks or get the hell outta my motel." He drawled.

For a second the teen blinked at the old man, debating on what to do. A voice from behind snapped his head around so quickly, he almost caught whiplash. There Sylar stood at the entrance to the bathroom, drying his hands on a small towel.

"We're leaving." He said, forcing a smile at the old man.

The old man glared at Sylar then at Luke, a look of disgust flashing through his eyes as he realized what might have happened in the motel room. It was always some kind of sicko doing filthy stuff like that in his motel. Luke pushed past the old man while Sylar also began to exit. Stopping in front of the old man, he scowled darkly at the man.

"You're the only filth I see here." He said ignoring the man's surprised expression before joining Luke in his car.

In a different kind of silence, one that seemed softer then all the previous ones, the men drove off returning to the task at hand. Luke knew he wouldn't be left behind again (lost and found).