A/N: This was written for the Heroes kinkmeme thread, after someone observed that there was lots of Petlar stories, but no Mylar. I was thinking I needed to try to branch out to another pairing (really, I have a ridiculous amount of Petlar written) and so I knocked together the below. This is set post Brave New World.

He waited patiently while Mohinder finished his lecture, the last of the day. Students filed out afterward, some quiet, some yakking about unrelated things. Gabriel looked like he was lost in thought, head down, shoulders hunched. It wasn't too far from the truth, but he wasn't lost in it – he was quite aware of his surroundings and he noticed immediately when the man he'd been waiting for walked out.


The other man turned quickly and stopped, but didn't look nearly as shocked as he'd expected.


"Actually," he looked down, still leaning against the wall and trying to look inoffensive and unthreatening, "I'm going by Gabriel now. Trying to, at least."

Mohinder breathed out heavily. "I'm going to my office." He turned and walked away.

Gabriel straightened and started after him hesitantly. "Can I come with you? I have something I want to say …"

"Yes, of course." Mohinder sounded tired. "Bennet told me."

"Noah?" Gabriel hurried his steps, pleased that Mohinder didn't react badly to him running up behind him. He'd worried about how he'd handle it if the Indian was still as jumpy and cautious as he had been years before. In fact, Mohinder didn't seem frightened by him at all. It was vaguely insulting, but he shoved that aside. He wasn't here as a salve to his ego.

"Yes, Noah Bennet. He told me you would be coming around." He reached his office, which was a tiny, narrow room with one wall taken up by two desks side by side with overflowing shelves above them, and the other mostly clear of necessity to leave a space to walk in behind the desks. Mohinder went to the far end and unloaded his lecture materials.

Gabriel walked in, not wanting to be left standing in the hall. At a loss as to what to do, he sat on the nearer desk. He twined his fingers together. One of Nathan's memories floated through his head: Never lace your fingers together in a self-defense situation. It takes only a fraction of a second longer to get them loose, but in a fight, that matters. Plus, if your opponent grabs your hands and puts pressure on them, you can't pull them apart easily. He frowned and inwardly told Nathan's memories to go fuck themselves. Gabriel had been running on survival instincts for so long though that it had become second nature. He left his fingers interlaced anyway.

"I'm sorry," Gabriel said quietly, soberly, but loudly enough to carry.

Mohinder finished putting away his materials and turned towards him, leaning against the far wall. He didn't say anything.

Gabriel went on, alternating between looking sincerely at Mohinder and looking down, saying, "I know it's not enough. I know it probably doesn't matter. But I needed to find you and tell you that, just in case it did … and to let you know that I … I regret what happened – all of it. I'm sorry, Mohinder. I did wrong. I did a lot of wrong things. And I'm sorry."

"I believe you."

Gabriel blinked and looked up at Mohinder, wondering what that meant.

Mohinder elaborated, "I know now something I didn't know … back then, which is that abilities nearly always have a psychological component and the stronger the ability, the stronger that component is. It can swallow someone's sanity and make them a puppet. In the grip of such a power, especially at first, if a person isn't expecting it, you can … become insane. You can hurt loved ones. You can do awful things." Mohinder looked to his left, at the masonry wall that had pictures of home and family taped to it. "Awful things."

Gabriel's eyes flitted between the man and the photos. His clever mind made links and drew parallels. "You have an ability."


And he wasn't the least bit afraid of Gabriel taking it. He smiled at that, relieved that someone other than Peter might relate to him like he was a person, rather than the bogey-man. "Do you need help?" Immediately after asking, he cursed himself for his impertinence. He was the last person Mohinder was likely to turn to for assistance.

The Indian smiled at him though. "No. Thank you for offering. I seem to have gotten my impulses under control." He looked at Gabriel intently. "How about you, though? It can't be easy."

"I'm … uh, I'm managing. Thank you, Mohinder." His voice softened. Of all things, he hadn't expected sympathy and understanding. "Peter's helping me." Peter, and Emma, were the only ones who had treated him like something other than a complete waste of skin these days. It meant more to him than he could express to be able to have a civil conversation with Mohinder. He'd come here expecting yet another scathing excoriation like he'd received from Claire, or the silent treatment like he'd received from Angela (which had been even worse, really).

"That's good to hear," Mohinder said with a strangely false smile, though his statement didn't register as a lie. He asked lightly, "Are you with Peter now? Noah implied as much."

Gabriel blinked at him. It took a moment for him to figure out what Mohinder was really asking. "No, no! Um … what did Noah tell you?" He cocked his head, but Mohinder just shrugged and reached over to fiddle with the strap of his bag. Gabriel said, "No, I'm not with … anyone." Why would he even ask?

Mohinder kept fussing with his bag, like he wanted to go somewhere, but wasn't quite worked up to it yet.

Gabriel blurted out, "Do you want to go out to eat? We could talk …" He stopped there, not sure why he'd offered. It was stupid. Mohinder probably didn't want to spend any more than the absolute minimum time with him. Surely the situation was that he'd been forewarned of Gabriel's visit and had merely resigned himself to letting Gabriel say his piece and then ushering him away so Mohinder could go on with his life.

"Are you asking me out on a date, Mr. Sylar?" Mohinder asked with the oddest lilt in his voice.

That couldn't possibly be flirty, but Gabriel felt butterflies anyway. It was just the idea of someone taking that sort of interest in him, he told himself. He was seeing things where they weren't, where they couldn't be. "Oh … no. No. I wasn't … I just meant … it's getting late and I thought you might want to … I can just leave." He stood up from the desk, flustered by his inability to read what was going on here. What he was sensing wasn't possible. "I should go. Thank you."

Mohinder acted like he hadn't said much of anything and looked directly at him, somehow preventing Gabriel's departure with his gaze alone. He said, "Because if you were, Mr. Sylar, I know a place I wouldn't mind going."

Gabriel stood there in the doorway, utterly gob smacked. The man WAS flirting with him. "Okay," he said weakly.

They went to a Greek restaurant just off campus where the food was that very rare combination of outstanding and cheap. Mohinder had several glasses of some alcoholic liquor they carried. Gabriel really didn't pay attention, as he wasn't drinking. At the end of the meal, he'd thought they might sit and talk, but Mohinder had other ideas. He drunkenly pulled on Gabe's arm, alternately calling him 'Gabby' or "Mr. Sylar' - neither of which Gabriel really appreciated.

"You must take me home, Mr. Sylar!" Mohinder slurred, putting rather a lot more of himself in contact with Gabriel than was necessary. "I am not safe to drive."

Gabriel smiled thinly at the blatant pass and mumbled an agreement. Fortunately, the Indian lived on campus, so it was not a long trek. He seemed to get more and more inebriated though as they approached his door, hanging onto Gabriel for support and telling him repeatedly how he was just going to pass out.

"It's very dangerous to pass out near you, I'm sure. I'd be helpless, unable to resist anything you wanted to do to me…"

"Right," Gabriel said, with a complete lack of enthusiasm. He had been considering how many drinks Mohinder had consumed and it just wasn't enough to explain this, even if he was a featherweight. As they drew up behind Mohinder's door, and he staggered a bit, which necessitated him catching himself by looping his hands around Gabriel's neck (of course, Gabriel thought), the former killer felt a need to explain a few things. "Mohinder, I don't think you're nearly as drunk as you're acting. And even if you are, then please realize I have absolutely no interest in people who are so out of it they can't really consent. Go sleep it off and maybe we'll talk some other time."

As he'd suspected, Mohinder stood straight and tall immediately, not the least bit drunk (okay … well, maybe he was still a little tipsy, but not much). "Fine. I'm not as drunk as you think. There won't be another time, because this is the only time I'll be able to work up the courage to do this." And with that, he plastered a kiss directly on Gabriel's startled face.

Gabriel stiffened at first and for a very long few seconds. Mohinder was not deterred though, and Gabriel didn't actually pull away. It wasn't like Mohinder hadn't been flirting with him all through dinner … and before that. Did he want this? Did he not want it? Should he politely decline given their twisted, messed-up past? Should he seize the opportunity while he had it, as he hadn't all those years ago when he'd been Zane? He inhaled a bit and kissed back, softening his lips and working them slightly against Mo's.

Mohinder gave him a low moan and brought his hands up to caress over his face with a delicate, exploring touch. Gabriel pulled back and swallowed, not sure how he felt about having his face touched. This was all going so fast and he was terribly conflicted about it. Mohinder smirked at him, at Gabriel's reddened lips and the slight blush on his features, then pulled out his key and inserted it smoothly in the lock - no, not drunk at all.

Gabriel followed him inside, wondering what he was getting into. He felt skittish and uneasy, but the bulge in his pants spoke to other things he was feeling as well. He certainly wasn't going to be drinking any tea here. Mohinder shut the door behind him and leaned against it, blocking his escape. He was having second thoughts already.

"I … I … Um, Mohinder, I'm thinking maybe I should leave …"

"No, you don't get to leave. You have been the subject of my darkest fantasies for years, Mr. Sylar, and if you happen to be feeling sorry for all you've robbed me of, then at least I might get out of the situation a little satisfaction. And then perhaps these delusions of interest in you might leave my brain and I can have peace at last."

Gabriel opened his mouth and shut it, not sure whether to be complimented that he'd featured in Mohinder's fantasy life for so long, or insulted that the man wanted to purge those thoughts. Before he could figure out how he felt about that, the Indian pushed off the door and slid one arm around him while the other cupped his groin.

"How guilty do you feel, Mr. Sylar?"

"Err." How the hell am I supposed to answer that?

Mohinder tugged him down for another kiss, this time sliding his tongue within him. Gabriel shuddered, wondering why he'd allowed that, why he'd opened his mouth, why he was still allowing it, why he was starting to grind himself against Mohinder's hand as it massaged him. He groaned and slid his arms around the other man. This is a massively bad idea. But there was no way he was stopping now. Eagerness was quickly outstripping caution as things progressed.

Mohinder wrapped his hand into Gabriel's shirt and pulled him into the bedroom, pushing him on the bed. Gabe grinned. This is really happening. Oh my … it's been so long since I've been laid - even longer since I've been with a man. He watched as Mohinder stripped off his shirt, revealing a glorious form, sinewy and lean. The Indian noticed he was the subject of observation and demanded, "You - strip." He pointed.

Gabriel's grin broadened to show teeth and he set about to obeying orders. Bossy Mohinder was sexy! He asked, "What sort of dark fantasies have you been harboring about me?" as Gabriel lifted his own shirt over his head and unfastened his pants.

He started to push them down, but Mohinder walked over to him. He put his hand in the center of Gabriel's chest, then flexed his fingers. Gabriel was knocked back on the bed as powerfully as if he'd been hit. It knocked a little of the air out of him and startled him a lot. So - that narrows down which ability he has. I don't have that one … yet. Bad Gabriel, bad! Wait … would it be evil if I just brought up how I killed his dad and let him beat me up a bit and then maybe I'd empathize with him like I did with Elle? Hm … I wonder if that would work?

Mohinder gave him a sultry, smug smile, which Gabriel answered with a shit-eating grin of his own, given his thoughts. Mohinder reached down for his calf, lifting his foot and taking hold of his pant leg. "They've changed over the years - my fantasies. Initially they were all about what I should have done to you while you were drugged."

The Indian picked up Gabriel's other calf, then yanked on his pant legs hard enough to pull them off, since they'd been unfastened earlier. He twirled Gabriel's pants slowly. "I thought I should have thrown you on the bed, or even over a chair - hardly matters - and fucked you while you were unconscious … unresisting … powerless." He tossed the garment aside and stalked closer. Gabriel reached out for Mohinder's pants, glancing up to make sure he was allowed. He began unbuttoning them and pushed them down, taking underwear with them.

Mohinder went on, "And always in my fantasies, you'd wake up about half way through, but still be too paralyzed to stop me. But you'd be able to beg," he purred and stepped out of his pants.

Gabriel put both hands on Mo's hips, looking up into his dark eyes as he slid slowly off the bed to kneel before him. "Go on," he said huskily. "What else would happen?" Gabriel began to mouth Mohinder's organ, licking him slowly.

Mohinder ran a hand into his hair and clenched it into a fist. Gabriel made a slight whimper - he was acting for his audience, but that did really hurt. The Indian released him and Gabe went back to the fellatio. Mohinder said, "You'd ask me to stop. You'd plead. You'd whine." Gabriel pulled the head of Mo's dick in his mouth, sucking at it like it was a candy. He could taste his precome salty on his tongue. It was delicious. Mohinder spoke as he slowly pistoned in and out of Gabriel's mouth, saying, "And I … wouldn't … stop."

He put both hands on Gabriel's head, removing his control over how it moved. Mohinder picked up speed with his own motions. With his enhanced strength, there was no arguing where Mohinder put him, or how far he forced his cock down Gabriel's throat with each thrust. Gabriel made a choking noise - which was not acting for his audience. The other man's shaft was thick in his mouth, blocking his breathing, stretching him and pushing his limits. The Indian let him go a moment later, chuckling softly.

Gabriel leaned away, looking up at him, simultaneously aroused at being used and resentful of the same. Mohinder said, "Get on the bed and spread yourself. I'll tell you of some of my other fantasies."

Gabriel clambered on the bed, his back to the headboard. Mohinder paused to remove a condom and a tube of lubricant from the nightstand, making Gabriel wonder how many men Mo had been with. He climbed on the bed, urging Gabriel's knees apart. I suppose that means I'm bottoming, Gabriel thought.

Mohinder went to his knees between the former killer's legs, putting his groin in easy reach. He said, "Later, I started to wonder what would have happened if I'd acted on my impulses while I thought you were Zane, and invited you into my hotel room when we were on the road." He handed Gabriel the condom packet and made a presumptuous gesture at himself.

Gabriel grinned. What a cheeky bastard! He suppressed his humor though, licking his lips and studying how to tear open the package without damaging the contents. A moment later he realized just how inexperienced that made him look. Mohinder gave him a fabulously smug expression for his insecure glance upward. Gabriel suppressed a sigh now and shifted to roll it down the other man.

Mohinder said, "And I would wonder how long you'd keep up the charade, and how far you'd go in pretending to be that callow boy, innocent and inexperienced."

Gabriel let his fingers travel down to the base of Mohinder's shaft and then lower, fondling his balls. Mohinder made a deep sound of approval at that and spread his legs a little. With Gabriel's other hand, he trailed his fingers upward along the nearly sculpted planes of Mohinder's abdomen, to pause in the center of his chest. How the hell does a university professor get off being this hot? Peter isn't even this built and all he does with his free time is work out and wander around the town looking for freaking wrongs to right - the weirdo. If this sort of body is a side effect of enhanced strength, then I am so totally there.

"I would teach you so many things," Mohinder purred as he leaned in. He put his hands on the headboard to either side of Gabriel, trapping him as he moved in for a deep, passionate kiss. "In my fantasies, I would fuck you relentlessly and sometimes I'd even let you fuck me," he breathed against Gabriel's face as he kissed slowly across his cheek. Gabriel's hands stroked up and down his sides, slipping a little around to his back, feeling the equally well-defined musculature there - shoulders somehow broader naked than when clothed, probably because Mohinder's classically narrowed waist was more evident. He ran his hands down to the man's buttocks and massaged, feeling them impossibly firm beneath his hands. He was starting to seriously look forward to bottoming, and having this athletic creature pistoning within him.

Mohinder came back to plunge his tongue within his mouth again, making him moan slightly. "Ah! Yes," the Indian exhaled and leaned back, licking his lips. "Sometimes I'd even fuck you enough that you'd give up your quest for powers and stay with me. An impossible event, I know," he said, voice deeper and harder as he shuffled back and reached for the lube. He dispensed some onto his fingers and then settled in to work them against his partner's hole.

Gabriel threw his head back and reached down to stroke himself idly, reveling in the sensations. How delicate and careful Mohinder was, that for all his incredible strength, he could caress him gently and deliberately, working one finger into him and then the next, knowing where to stroke within another man and sending surges of ecstasy dancing and singing along Gabriel's nerves. He'd never had a partner do this for him - he'd had male partners, but their range of experience had been little more than his own. He panted, reaching down to pull up his knees with both hands, willingly leaving off pumping himself if it encouraged Mohinder in the least in rubbing his prostate.

He whimpered when it had the opposite effect and Mo pulled his fingers out. The Indian laughed at him for his frustration and lubed up his shaft. A moment later he moved up to replace his fingers with his penis. He aimed himself and began to nudge in. Gabriel rested his hands on Mohinder's shoulders, tilting his hips to ease the entry. Mohinder watched his face with intent scrutiny. Gabriel hardly noticed it, being too absorbed by what was happening with the rest of his body - the slow opening around the other man, the shifting weight of their bodies, his hands now petting the Indian's sides restlessly, bespeaking a concern he didn't dare give voice to.

Mohinder began speaking again as he pushed gradually within him. "It wasn't long after that, that I began to wonder why you never came back for me - after. I had an ability, after all, so what was the problem? Was it that I wasn't worthy?" Mohinder's lip curled for a moment and he snarled the last word, making a hard snap of his hips to punctuate it. The last several inches of his shaft rammed home, making Gabriel yelp in surprise and cling to him, clenching his teeth and breathing hard out his nose.

For a moment - Gabe felt like no more than a mortal man, without powers, who'd just been hurt intimately by his partner. He trembled and bit his lip, trying to banish his fears. It wasn't enough to make him call a stop to this, but it certainly reinforced who was in control here … and that Mohinder had felt … rejected by him. Gabriel looked at him with wide eyes.

Mohinder held still for a moment, letting him calm a bit, before he began moving slowly but deeply within him. "I would dream that you would come back for me some night and that you were lurking in the shadows where I couldn't see you, waiting for your chance. Sometimes masturbated in front of my open window, thinking to myself that you might be watching, that I might distract you to something other than killing me. I told myself that instead of my hand, it was your telekinesis gripping me." He moved forward, thrusting regularly and still having enough breath to speak into Gabriel's ear. Gabriel relaxed again, getting into the rhythm of it, figuring out how to move with him.

The Indian's cultured tones went on, "You would come for me in the morning, before dawn. I would offer you my body and now it would be me begging you, to give me one last pleasure before ending my life. I would go to you willingly, with that being my only price - that I might know you before I died. You would take me, not just once, but time after time until I was sore and pleading for release from the sensuous tortures you might inflict on me."

Mohinder reached down and cupped his hands under Gabriel's body, shifting him once, then again, changing angle. Gabriel didn't know what he was aiming at until he hit it, his penis rubbing against his prostate again. Gabe's mouth fell open and he groaned. Mohinder chuckled and started moving faster, prodding him over and over, hitting that button relentlessly.

"Ah, there it is," he said with a self-satisfied smirk. He commanded, "Think of it - think of it, Mr. Sylar! Think of how your memory has obsessed me for all these years." He spoke with a voice tinged with disgust, "I can hardly touch myself without thinking of you!"

Gabriel writhed and squirmed on his dick, bringing his hands up to caress Mohinder's face and then running them into his hair. He moaned inarticulate sounds as the Indian drove him steadily towards his peak. His hands began to shake as his body tightened. Mohinder reached down between them and stroked his shaft - his touch was a blinding perfection. Gabriel came, throwing his head back and calling out in a protracted shout.

"Yes!" Mohinder said, as if ripping that noise from him was the highest victory. He grinned hugely, savagely, and plowed him remorselessly for another minute, until he came within him, with Gabriel still shuddering from prolonged aftershocks, hanging onto him.

Gabriel felt profoundly overstimulated, like every touch and sound was too much. "Please … please … just … stop … please." Everything that had happened and everything he'd been told required time to digest, to consider, to figure out what it all meant, and what Gabriel wanted it to mean.

Spent anyway, Mohinder complied, breathing only lightly like the exertion had been mild. He kissed Gabriel's cheek and Gabe twitched away from that as well.

"Too much, hm?" Mohinder asked. "The human body is a finely tuned instrument capable of wonders beyond our wildest imaginings … Gabriel," he whispered, speaking his name for the first time. "But I suppose you know that … better than I do." He leaned in to kiss him again, more slowly, and this time Gabriel didn't jerk away.