Sylar closed his eyes, turning his head sharply as though Mohinder had just jammed a knife between his ribs. Those words were so exquisite, but...
"No," he pushed a palm against Mohinder's chest, trying to get out from under him, get away. The idea of such deep intimacy, such vulnerability, was like a hot bath to a hypothermic body. It was too much, overwhelming.
But he was too proud. He couldn't even admit that it was fear that stopped him. He had to turn this around. "That's not how this works."
He moved now to try to maneuver the doctor down beneath him. That's the way this dynamic was supposed to be. Sylar was the pursuer. Mohinder was the prey.
Mohinder clenched his blood-stained teeth and grabbed Sylar by the throat, pushing him back against the couch again. "You owe me this!" he hissed, some of that ruby deliciousness flecking from his lips and landing on Sylar's cheek.
Unfortunately for Sylar, Mohinder was soaring from his recent feed and not thinking too clearly. He just wanted to take, possess, and have something that meant a lot to him!
"You're forgetting," Sylar growled out, words half choked as he grasped Mohinder's wrist and tried to wrench his hand free. He pointed to himself with the free hand briefly and said, "psychopath. I don't care!"
No one had ever given him what they owed him, emotionally. His mother had dumped him off with a loveless father. His father had murdered the only person to really care about him and sold him off like chattel to a narcissistic psychic-vampire and another loveless man. His adored mentor had thrown him away, just for doing everything it took to be exactly what Chandra wanted him to be.
Why should he care what the world thought he owed to them?
Sylar drew up his outside leg, hooking his knee under Mohinder, along his side near the couch back. Using that fulcrum, he threw his weight up and away from the couch, hell bent on flipping them off and over.
And it worked! Mohinder landed under Sylar with an oomf and blinked at him. "Damn you! Why must you be so difficult and selfish, hm?? Why can't you let me have this?!"
He used his strength to roll them over and then stood up abruptly. Mohinder wanted to kick Sylar. He wanted to pick him up and toss him away, then kick him again!
But why? Save for the rabid emotions running through his veins, Mohinder had no pure reason to do it. He thought it over and then began seeing through his blood high. "If this is ever going to work then you have to be open to letting me in, Sylar! It isn't all about you!" There. A logical statement.
Mohinder thoroughly enjoyed the lip-lock and made use of it for several minutes, until he'd had his fill. The water was simply getting too cold and his teeth chattered when he pulled away to smile at Sylar.
"Bed?"
He'd had sex. He'd had food. He'd had warmth and kisses. What a perfect night, aside from the violence that had come before. It hadn't been their fault, at least.
"Bed," Sylar agreed, letting them out of the cold shower. He pulled down a towel and wrapped Mohinder in it so he could dry off, then found one for himself. As soon as they were done he followed Mohinder to the bed, twitching back covers and climbing close in.
He wanted to lend the doctor his body heat, so he wrapped himself around him, close, nuzzling again into his hair. "You're not going anywhere, right? You're here, with me?" he asked, lacing his fingers into the geneticist's.
Mohinder rolled onto his side once Sylar was settled, scooting until their foreheads touched. "I can't promise that I'll stay here." He paused for some dramatic teasing. "If you leave this place, I'm going with you."
Mohinder had no plans of departing from Sylar any time soon! He finally felt safe in his own disease, knowing he had someone to take care of him and make sure he wasn't too violent towards people who didn't deserve it. "I'd even follow you to the icy depths of Alaska, knowing you'd keep me warm."
"Well, lucky for you, I'm not planning to go anywhere near Alaska. If I had my way, we'd be in Cancun right now, not bloody Aspen," he leaned up and kissed Mohinder's forehead, definitely interested in staying warm, and keeping Mohinder that way. "What do you say? After this whole stand-off is done. White sandy beaches... hot tropical sun... no need for much in the way of clothing..."
Sylar watched Peter lose his appetite and snorted softly. "You can devour nearly an entire large meat-lover's pizza, by your self, after a full day of hunting, but you can't finish your breakfast while Mohinder has his?"
The incredulity in his voice was a light tease, nothing too cruel, and the brunette cleaned up his own last few bites before beginning to clear the dishes. Better if the Company didn't know they'd all had a morning sit-down to discuss this, and Sylar was ever a tidy monster when it came to domestics, anyway.
"Fuck you," Peter said immaturely, then handed his plate to Sylar.
"I apologize. I'll eat in another room from now on." Mohinder's heart sunk just a little bit more each time someone looked at him in disgust.
"No its fine. I don't have a problem with it. Sylar's just being a dick." He left in a huff to go brush his teeth, and Mohinder took his empty but stained glass over to the sink. The doctor had a smudge of blood on his bottom lip and wasn't aware of it. "Thank you for the meal," he said, leaning against the counter next to Sylar.
"My pleasure," Sylar smiled, reached out to wipe the blood away, and sucked it off his own thumb. "You'd think after spending time as a nurse and a hunter, he'd do better with blood. I suppose maybe it's because he was a nurse. He probably thinks about blood so literally, plasma, platelets, and cells, oh my! It's far more symbolic for me.
"If you've got anything that needs getting together, I think we should do it now. The sooner we're out of here, the better," Sylar added, beginning to put the dishes back away into cabinets.
"I only have some clothes. And you," Mohinder said, smiling at him. His eyes stayed on Sylar's face for a long few moments and then he turned away to walk about the downstairs, checking for signs of anyone trying to get in so soon.
"Sylar...how are we going to get out of here? Its a shame you have to blast the roof off of such a lovely home."
"Don't think of it that way," Sylar chided, smoothing a hand over Mohinder's curls as he walked past toward the small sort of kitchenette the guest house possessed. "You're ill and in need of treatment. It's about survival, not the thrill or the high."
He filled a glass from his wrist and brought it to the doctor quickly, wanting to retain as much of its bodily warmth as possible. His blood was unique, though, it didn't die quickly, so it kept that heat and also did not coagulate as rapidly as normal human blood was wont to. "It's a good sign if a treatment makes you feel better. Not a weakness."
The doctor nodded and took the glass, sipping from it obediently. He closed his eyes when the blood coated his throat, warming him from the inside out.
Mohinder felt it pooling in his belly as he drank more and then set the glass aside, hugging his stomach, leaning forward. "Hard to believe that a flight in the cold did that much damage."
"I underestimated it. I probably should have found a shipping barge to set down on for a while, mid-flight. I was just wanted to get you safe, avoid being seen. Hopefully with a bit of rest and nourishment, you'll be back up to status quo, and we can get into a lab and start working on this thing," he sat down with Mohinder as he talked, one arm leaned on the sofa back and his temple propped against his hand.
The other hand pet Mohinder's lower thigh affectionately. Sylar could count on one hand all the people who meant enough to him who he would miss if they weren't in the world, and though he'd never tell Peter, Mohinder was foremost among that select few.
The food, and whatever was going on inside of him, had made him sleepy. Mohinder rest back against the other man and manipulated Sylar's arms, pulling them around his middle.
Something most definitely didn't feel right, but he didn't want to worry his lover. "That's much better, already. I'm sorry I snapped at you when we landed. I wasn't expecting to see my mother. Or Molly for that matter."
This. This this this, Mohinder thought to himself. This is why he fought hard to stay alive. Not the sex. It was more than sex. More than Sylar clamping his mouth shut and fondling his cock.
This was love and lust and everything that made human beings so connected. He'd longed for a partnership like this, for so long, and it figured that he had to becoming a monster for it to happen. But now he had it, and he was never going to let it go.
Mohinder lifted his hips from the bed and whimpered through his nose, toes curling. He wasn't going to last long, especially when his fingers found Sylar's hair and sifted through, ready to push him down onto his sex as things progressed.
"Gorgeous" Sylar whispered to himself, watching the doctor writhe a moment, before looking his cock over and deciding how to proceed with this.
Sylar was not like many young men. He did not benefit from a pornographic education. He did not have male friends from whom to glean the secrets with lewd jokes and stories. What he did benefit from was a mind that knew how things worked. A quick examination of the hard organ in front of him got the gears in his brain turning, and he circled his thumb and fingers about the base to steady Mohinder and add pressure.
Then he tipped his head forward and gave the anterior vein a long, slow, experimental lick, the muscles of his tongue tensed and pressing against the flesh. He wasn't sure what he thought of the taste, but that wasn't his primary focus. It was all about Mohinder's reaction, the sight, sound, even smell of him. This was all so new and organic. Strange territory for the usually cold, cut off intuitive.
Mohinder drew his leg up on the bed and pressed the inside against Sylar, squeezing him closer. That tongue was amazing. Sylar's breath and soft skin was amazing. Everything about him had Mohinder's head buzzing.
He tightened his fingers in Sylar's hair and gave it a gentle tug, trying to guide him towards doing that again. The doctor wasn't very experienced in fellatio, but he knew what he liked, and he knew what his cock was straining for!
Well... might as well dive in, he supposed. He shot Mohinder a smoldering look before lowering his mouth around the head. The velvety skin over firm flesh was an interesting and not unpleasant texture. He started shallow, exploring with his tongue, taking the doctor deeper as he acclimated to the sensation.
He knew depth was the goal, the desire. To be surrounded by pressure, moisture, heat, the way other orifices readily allowed. Sylar had never tested his gag reflex however, and though there was no possible way for him to actually choke, convincing his often instinctive brain of that might not go so smoothly.
On the surface, he kept his confidence though, and tried not to show his insecurities.
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"No," he pushed a palm against Mohinder's chest, trying to get out from under him, get away. The idea of such deep intimacy, such vulnerability, was like a hot bath to a hypothermic body. It was too much, overwhelming.
But he was too proud. He couldn't even admit that it was fear that stopped him. He had to turn this around. "That's not how this works."
He moved now to try to maneuver the doctor down beneath him. That's the way this dynamic was supposed to be. Sylar was the pursuer. Mohinder was the prey.
Reply
Mohinder clenched his blood-stained teeth and grabbed Sylar by the throat, pushing him back against the couch again. "You owe me this!" he hissed, some of that ruby deliciousness flecking from his lips and landing on Sylar's cheek.
Unfortunately for Sylar, Mohinder was soaring from his recent feed and not thinking too clearly. He just wanted to take, possess, and have something that meant a lot to him!
Reply
No one had ever given him what they owed him, emotionally. His mother had dumped him off with a loveless father. His father had murdered the only person to really care about him and sold him off like chattel to a narcissistic psychic-vampire and another loveless man. His adored mentor had thrown him away, just for doing everything it took to be exactly what Chandra wanted him to be.
Why should he care what the world thought he owed to them?
Sylar drew up his outside leg, hooking his knee under Mohinder, along his side near the couch back. Using that fulcrum, he threw his weight up and away from the couch, hell bent on flipping them off and over.
Reply
He used his strength to roll them over and then stood up abruptly. Mohinder wanted to kick Sylar. He wanted to pick him up and toss him away, then kick him again!
But why? Save for the rabid emotions running through his veins, Mohinder had no pure reason to do it. He thought it over and then began seeing through his blood high. "If this is ever going to work then you have to be open to letting me in, Sylar! It isn't all about you!" There. A logical statement.
Reply
"Bed?"
He'd had sex. He'd had food. He'd had warmth and kisses. What a perfect night, aside from the violence that had come before. It hadn't been their fault, at least.
Reply
He wanted to lend the doctor his body heat, so he wrapped himself around him, close, nuzzling again into his hair. "You're not going anywhere, right? You're here, with me?" he asked, lacing his fingers into the geneticist's.
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Mohinder had no plans of departing from Sylar any time soon! He finally felt safe in his own disease, knowing he had someone to take care of him and make sure he wasn't too violent towards people who didn't deserve it. "I'd even follow you to the icy depths of Alaska, knowing you'd keep me warm."
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The incredulity in his voice was a light tease, nothing too cruel, and the brunette cleaned up his own last few bites before beginning to clear the dishes. Better if the Company didn't know they'd all had a morning sit-down to discuss this, and Sylar was ever a tidy monster when it came to domestics, anyway.
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"I apologize. I'll eat in another room from now on." Mohinder's heart sunk just a little bit more each time someone looked at him in disgust.
"No its fine. I don't have a problem with it. Sylar's just being a dick." He left in a huff to go brush his teeth, and Mohinder took his empty but stained glass over to the sink. The doctor had a smudge of blood on his bottom lip and wasn't aware of it. "Thank you for the meal," he said, leaning against the counter next to Sylar.
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"If you've got anything that needs getting together, I think we should do it now. The sooner we're out of here, the better," Sylar added, beginning to put the dishes back away into cabinets.
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"Sylar...how are we going to get out of here? Its a shame you have to blast the roof off of such a lovely home."
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He filled a glass from his wrist and brought it to the doctor quickly, wanting to retain as much of its bodily warmth as possible. His blood was unique, though, it didn't die quickly, so it kept that heat and also did not coagulate as rapidly as normal human blood was wont to. "It's a good sign if a treatment makes you feel better. Not a weakness."
Reply
Mohinder felt it pooling in his belly as he drank more and then set the glass aside, hugging his stomach, leaning forward. "Hard to believe that a flight in the cold did that much damage."
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The other hand pet Mohinder's lower thigh affectionately. Sylar could count on one hand all the people who meant enough to him who he would miss if they weren't in the world, and though he'd never tell Peter, Mohinder was foremost among that select few.
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Something most definitely didn't feel right, but he didn't want to worry his lover. "That's much better, already. I'm sorry I snapped at you when we landed. I wasn't expecting to see my mother. Or Molly for that matter."
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This was love and lust and everything that made human beings so connected. He'd longed for a partnership like this, for so long, and it figured that he had to becoming a monster for it to happen. But now he had it, and he was never going to let it go.
Mohinder lifted his hips from the bed and whimpered through his nose, toes curling. He wasn't going to last long, especially when his fingers found Sylar's hair and sifted through, ready to push him down onto his sex as things progressed.
Reply
Sylar was not like many young men. He did not benefit from a pornographic education. He did not have male friends from whom to glean the secrets with lewd jokes and stories. What he did benefit from was a mind that knew how things worked. A quick examination of the hard organ in front of him got the gears in his brain turning, and he circled his thumb and fingers about the base to steady Mohinder and add pressure.
Then he tipped his head forward and gave the anterior vein a long, slow, experimental lick, the muscles of his tongue tensed and pressing against the flesh. He wasn't sure what he thought of the taste, but that wasn't his primary focus. It was all about Mohinder's reaction, the sight, sound, even smell of him. This was all so new and organic. Strange territory for the usually cold, cut off intuitive.
Reply
Mohinder drew his leg up on the bed and pressed the inside against Sylar, squeezing him closer. That tongue was amazing. Sylar's breath and soft skin was amazing. Everything about him had Mohinder's head buzzing.
He tightened his fingers in Sylar's hair and gave it a gentle tug, trying to guide him towards doing that again. The doctor wasn't very experienced in fellatio, but he knew what he liked, and he knew what his cock was straining for!
Reply
He knew depth was the goal, the desire. To be surrounded by pressure, moisture, heat, the way other orifices readily allowed. Sylar had never tested his gag reflex however, and though there was no possible way for him to actually choke, convincing his often instinctive brain of that might not go so smoothly.
On the surface, he kept his confidence though, and tried not to show his insecurities.
Reply
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