A/N: This takes place in the 5 years later setting, but with a few changes. You'll see what happened to everyone else as the chapters progress.
Disclaimer: Tim and NBC own this, but not my imagination!
"What if I told you that I knew from the first moment I saw you that—" Mohinder was cut off when the other male's voice interrupted him.
"That you fell madly and deeply in love with me?" His voice was low and deep but had a playful sound to it.
"No." The shorter of the two men rolled his eyes and shifted in bed so he could look at the one he was speaking with. "I knew who you were from the first time I saw you."
"How is that possible? You thought I was Zane Taylor and allowed me to follow you on your little adventures." The voice responded, still containing a hint of playfulness.
"No. I knew. I wasn't certain, but I knew." Though it was dark, Mohinder could feel Sylar smiling. Not Zane, not Gabriel. Not Nathan. Just. Sylar.
"Do you have a special ability that you're not telling me about, Mohinder?" He reached out and traced a line across Mohinder's forehead teasingly before burying his fingers in the curls of black hair. The only reason why Mohinder was still alive now was because there was nothing that could be gained by his death. Killing him would give Sylar no power. That ...and the fact that Sylar seemed to have a growing attachment to this man. That is what kept Mohinder alive and by Sylar's side. Well as far as the Indian was concerned.
Strange though. All his life, Sylar had never considered himself a homosexual. Nor heterosexual for that matter. Love and lust weren't feelings that occurred naturally to him like it did other normal people. Not until he met Mohinder.
"If I did, would you kill me?"
"…." Sylar hesitated. He could tell the truth, or he could lie. "I don't think it would be as fun to run the country without you by my side." But the temptation of acquiring a new gift would be overwhelming…
"Fun? Is that all I am to you?" Mohinder shifted again, this time turning away from Sylar.
"Mohinder…" Sylar sighed, sitting up in the bed before sliding out from beneath the covers. He walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.
Mohinder took this time to spread out on the king sized bed, sinking into the mattress in deep thought as he glared up at the ceiling wondering how the hell he'd managed to get himself into a situation like this. He was basically an assistant murderer. And the lover…no. Play thing of the man responsible for killing thousands of people. And this man was probably the man that killed his father, though Sylar swore over and over again that it wasn't him. It was so easy to be deceived by those penetrating brown eyes. No matter how hard he tried, he could never read Sylar based on his expression. Sylar was too smart to not be aware of his facial gestures, and he let people see only what he wanted. Because of this, Mohinder always questioned if the feelings Sylar had for him were genuine or not.
Moments later, Sylar emerged from the bathroom. "If you knew I wasn't Zane Taylor then why didn't you say anything?" He questioned before he made his way back to the bed.
Mohinder could feel the weight press down on the other side of the mattress and thought he would just pretend he was asleep because he couldn't bother with Sylar's persistent questions tonight. He always wanted to figure everything out, but sometimes logic can't give you the answers you want.
"I know you aren't sleeping."
Mohinder made a frustrated noise. "I don't know. I liked you I guess…." His voice trailed off as he realized he didn't really have a logical answer to the question.
"Enough to poison me and threaten to kill me?"
"But I didn't kill you, did I?"
"…." Again there was silence on Sylar's side. Mohinder knew he was thinking. Processing. Figuring out what his next move would be. Whatever it took to win. Sylar could not tolerate losing.
"I could say the same thing about you. You tried to kill me." Mohinder took the opportunity to speak since it seemed Sylar wasn't going to.
"No. I just beat you around a little. I wouldn't kill you. You were useful to me then, and you're useful to me now…." His voice trailed off and his arm moved to wrap around Mohinder's waist, and his hand rested on the other's abdomen.
The geneticist shifted slightly, but didn't turn to face Sylar. "What use am I now? You have the list, and you've killed just about everyone on it. Not to mention you're the president. There's nothing you cannot do…."
Sylar pulled Mohinder towards him, until the other male was pressed against his body. Still there was no response.
The silence annoyed Mohinder so he decided to change the subject. "You didn't go to jack-off in the bathroom did you?"
There was even more silence before Sylar spoke. "I figured since you were upset I wasn't getting any tonight."
Mohinder had to laugh. He didn't know if Sylar was being serious or not, but the answer itself was amusing. Sylar didn't laugh, so Mohinder quieted down after figuring he'd guessed right and Sylar did just get off in the bathroom. "Oh. Sorry…I didn't mean to…" He turned around to face the paler male to find him sound asleep. A part of Mohinder felt saddened by the fact Sylar was asleep, and another part thought Sylar was better that way. More obedient.
Slowly, Mohinder closed the space between them and lowered his lips onto Sylar's when his eyes opened. "My God, you're so gullible." Sylar whispered against Mohinder's lips.
Mohinder's face flushed, and if his skin wasn't so dark there would be a pink tint over his cheeks and nose. Before he could protest, he was pinned down on his back with both hands covered by Sylar's, fingers laced together romantically though Mohinder's wrists were pinned painfully. "Sylar…stop it…"
Sylar had power over Mohinder in more ways than one, and he liked to show it. "Ask nicely." He demanded, wetting his lips.
"Please stop." Mohinder said plainly, pushing against the pressure on his wrists.
"You're no fun." Sylar sighed, releasing Mohinder's hands. "I might as well kill you now."
"You always say that, yet here I am." Mohinder mumbled quietly under his breath.
"I heard that…"
"Good. Go to bed. I have a nation-wide address tomorrow. I need you to be there with me." Sylar stated, settling back into the bed.
"What? Why? I'm not even sche—" He was cut off again, this time by Sylar's lips. Mohinder didn't complain though. Instead, his body melted into the kiss and he parted his lips allowing Sylar's tongue to move further and enter his mouth. Mohinder tried to let out what would be a soft mixture of a cry and a moan when he felt a hand brush past his inner thigh and stop at his crotch, gently rubbing at his dick through the fabric of his boxers.
Sylar smirked, feeling Mohinder's hips buck against his touch. He felt blood rush down between his legs.
"Why do you fight it when you know I know you want it?"
"Because I shouldn't want it."
Sylar laughed. "That has never stopped me from giving it to you though…"
"Sylar, I'm not in the mood." Mohinder said firmly, though it was a lie, turning to look anywhere but into Sylar's deep brown eyes that seemed to shine through the darkness of the room.
There was a tingling in the molecules of light around them, and when Mohinder looked back Sylar was no longer the one above him. It was Nathan Petrelli. Or rather, an image of Nathan Petrelli. "Is this what you'd prefer?" The president's voice spoke gently but hand's held him roughly. "A real politician?"
Mohinder pried his hands from Sylar's grasp and he pushed him nearly to the other side of the bed. "Get away from me!"
Sylar shape-shifted back to his original form then sighed. What now? He didn't want Mohinder to be upset. Because upset Mohindy meant no happy times in bed. And no happy times in bed meant he'd have to speak in front of millions of citizens in the morning with is mind on sex. Which would be hell for himself as well as everyone listening.
He looked at Mohinder who was still on the opposite side of the bed, glaring at him like he was some sort of criminal. It was kind of true, but still, it provoked the hell out of Sylar. Normally he wouldn't do this, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and Sylar was forced to read Mohinder's thoughts. They'd made an agreement some time ago that Sylar wouldn't listen to his thoughts, because sometimes Mohinder's imagination was enough to make even the most perverted old man blush.
"I know you have trouble believing me sometimes…" Sylar spoke after a long moment of silence.
Mohinder suddenly looked defensive and waves of angry thoughts filled his mind. "Why are you reading my mind!?!" He spoke angrily, hopping out of the bed.
"Mohinder, wait!" He physically used his telekinesis to stop Mohinder and pull him back onto the bed. "I know you question my feelings for you, but you shouldn't…."
"Look. If you want to fuck me, then fuck me. Because clearly it doesn't matter what I think anyway."
As tempted as Sylar was to take him up on that offer, he didn't. He sat in silence for a while and when he was done being silent, Mohinder had managed to get back under the covers and fall asleep facing away from Sylar, but not before getting something from Mohinder's sleeping mind. I just want him to tell me he loves me…. Sylar watched Mohinder sleep for a while, and then went to sleep himself, wrapping his arms around the shorter man whether he'd approve when he woke up or not. He could give Mohinder anything he wanted. Anything but that. Sylar didn't know the first thing about love, or how to go about expressing it in words.