Don't Be Bashful, I Don't Bite

[splice_of_life]

"Don't Be Bashful, I Don't Bite"
Who: Mohinder, Sylar, etc


He's nervous, sitting in the car for almost half an hour..  The man on the phone had been the only one, so far, that would talk to him.  Well, besides Nathan Petrelli's brother, of course.  Not that the boy had anything to really go on.  Zane Taylor might very well be the key that he needs to find so that his research makes sense again.  So that he can carry on with his father's work.

Pulling up his jacket, though it's not really that cold at all in Virginia, Mohinder raps lightly on the door and waits.  He can hear movement in there and it causes him to rock forward on his toes, teeth indenting the inside of his lower lip.

Comments

[heroslayer]

His arm goes back around his waist the second their shirts are gone, and he pulls him back against him, both wanting more and just wanting to hold him. It's been a long time since he's been allowed the latter, him and the other Mohinder more concerned with carnal pleasure rather than anything else, regardless of how much either of them managed to draw it out, and he misses it. He misses their domesticity, even if he never thought himself the type to be tied down.

"I do," he murmurs, his fingers ghosting up over his spine. A beat and then he corrects, "Believe in fate, I mean. Some things are just -- just destine to happen. Some people ... "

Even if he's technically screwing with Mohinder's fate as much as he is time, their paths were meant to cross. Their paths will always cross. It's how it's meant to be, regardless of anything he does to speed it along. Even in the case of the other Mohinder, the one things didn't quite work out with, he knows that they would have met again if he'd stayed -- or he and his other self would have, if he'd let him live. It's the natural order of the universe.

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

Mohinder's not pumped full of drugs and serums and hormones at the moment. He's just Mohinder Suresh, saddened by his father's death but ultimately accepting of it for the moment. He'll get his revenge by saving people from the likes of Sylar, but finishing what his father started. He's more than happy laying back on the pillows now, held close. Precious. Cared for.

Not that Zane knows him enough for any of that. Mohinder can be allowed to be a little romantic, right?

"Yes. We seem to have so much in common. I'm not sure why. I'm certainly not into rock music as you obviously are."

[heroslayer]

"Well, we can't have everything in common." Funny thing is, he actually does like rock music -- just not the Ramones, as his shirt that first day lead Mohinder believe. "But it's ... good. It makes me feel connected, I guess."

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

Mohinder can understand that. Large crowds, fans-- Yes. Mohinder sets his forehead against Zane's forehead. Their knees touch. It feels a bit like being in secondary school, really. Bit of a snog and talking. Actually, that formula had always worked out the best for him. He and his fiancee had always done the same.

"When we're done with this list...what do you think you'll do? Melt down the rest of your things?"

[heroslayer]

He steals a quick kiss from him, unable to help himself with Mohinder so close, and slips a hand under the hem of his shirt absently, his fingers flattening against his spine. He rolls his eyes at the second question, vaguely amused. "I don't know. I really hadn't thought about it."

Which, again, is the truth. A part of him just assumed he and Mohinder would travel the country forever. He always assumed the Indian's list was long enough.

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

Mohinder's eyes trail over Zane's face. His eyelashes brush his cheeks and his lips gladly accept any kiss offered. The hand suddenly up the back of his shirt makes him wonder though. He swallows. Sometimes, he's so bashful. And othertimes it's as if Zane knows him. Knows how to touch him.

"What did you use to do?"

It's standard stuff. Mohinder is interested.

[heroslayer]

"I fixed things," he answers, shrugging dismissively as if he's not sure how to explain his job and that's as close as he can get to what he actually did for a living. In reality, he's more hoping Mohinder doesn't press him for details. He may not be lying about what he used to do -- he fixed watches and then he "fixed" people -- but he doesn't want to have to explain that. Not when there's a pretty fair chance that, if Mohinder saw his apartment, he probably at least knows about his shop.

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

"Mechanic then?" He doesn't quite look it. And there had been all of those guitars in his home-- "Or musical instruments, that sort of thing?" At least he's giving Zane the chance to lie by simply agreeing.

[heroslayer]

"A little of everything."

That said, he shifts back away from him a bit, his mouth pressing into a thin, thoughtful line as he debates telling him the truth. On one hand, it's probably better that he does before they sleep together, but on the other, he has no proof any claims that he's reformed are true. Dale is still alive, sure, but that could be blamed on the fact that Mohinder was right there. And while he has the ring, carefully shifted into his skin so that Mohinder wouldn't be able to see it when he took his shirt off, he wonders if it would hold any weight as young as the Indian and their history together are.

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

Zane's behaviour is awkward and the reason, made up in Mohinder's mind, is obviously there for the picking. He must be unemployeed, Mohinder reasons with himself. He's embarrassed. It's why he could pick right up and come with me....

No man wants to try to enter a romantic relationship unemployed. Mohinder decides he'll be a little less equal from not on with sharing expenses.

Grabbing Zane's hand, he notes the callouses on his fingers and sets the digits back against his ribs. "Don't go."

[heroslayer]

"I wasn't planning on it." He lets Mohinder replace his hand, but his expression doesn't lighten. He's still torn, still afraid of screwing this up when they could be happy here. "I was just ... thinking."

And not about money, as much as he wishes it were that simple.

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

Mohinder sucks his lower lip into his mouth, thoughtful himself. "I know you really do not know me all that well, but--" If they can snog like that, they can at least talk like friends. "Perhaps I can listen just the same?"

[heroslayer]

Sylar considers this for a moment, the frown unmoving, and then leans away again. If they're going to have a serious conversation, they need to not be tangled up in each other's arms, as much as he'd like that.

"I need to tell you something, but I don't want you to be afraid." It's a silly thing to ask of him, he knows -- Mohinder's going to panic the second he tells him, if not beforehand -- but he can't help it. It's human nature to preface things like this with things like that and, as much as he likens himself to God, he is still human. He only hopes he can control the damage or, more specifically, the fear.

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

"What at all would I have to be afraid of? If your power can be dangerous, there are precautions, I'm sure." Still, Mohinder sits, pulling his legs beneath him. He's ready to listen and, according to his thoughts, to comfort. "You're a good man, Zane."

[heroslayer]

"Zane might be, but I'm not Zane."

He straightens slowly, losing the awkwardness he carried around around for all to see while pretending to be the musician. His eyes are old now, sharp and knowing, his presence overwhelming. If they were somewhere public, all eyes would turn to him now, however briefly, and through no use of power. Predators just tend to draw attention, and that's most definitely what he seems to be now, having gone from kitten to tiger in all the time it took to sit up straight.

"You wanted to talk to your father's murderer. So talk." A beat, and then he amends, "And before you start, no, this isn't a joke. My name is Sylar." As far as he can remember, this time around Mohinder never named his father's killer, so the fact that 'Zane' knows it should be as good a tip off as any.

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

The soft, sweet, understanding smile has been replaced by something else. It's not Mohinder's fault that he's frightened. He's seen how his father died in the back of that taxi cab and he's been shown the follow of trust so many times before. Now, shirtless, having just been curled up with a man he thought he'd like to get to know, it's been revealed how pathetic he truly is.

Everything hurts, from the tip of his tongue to the base of his spine.

"Sylar--" No one but Mohinder can ever say his name like that. It's soft. It's beautiful. And it's incredibly frightened. Almost bitter. He nearly cracks his head open trying to get away.

[heroslayer]

He catches him telekinetically, righting him so that he doesn't end up accidentally killing himself, but doesn't pin him. He glances to the door instead, and it locks loudly, trapping Mohinder in the room with him.

"So much for not being afraid, but I wasn't expecting much," he mutters, planting his hands behind him on the bed so he can lean back on them. "I'm not going to hurt you, Mohinder. Or Dale. Or whoever else. Do you really think I would've told you the truth if I planned on any of that?"

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

The stream of Hindi that passes Mohinder's lips? Absolutely not the nicest. Sylar's heard it all before, though. Their time together in their little haven, on their road trips, and what have you, has taught the man the basics of swearing in the other man's native language. He struggles. Of course he struggles.

"You kill people! You're a psychopath!" he says through gritted teeth. He feels used. He feels guilt. He's impossibly hurt by this.

[heroslayer]

"I used to kill people," he corrects, sighing. He knew this was a bad idea -- he should have just left it alone and continued pretending to be Zane. At least then he would have had Mohinder and he wouldn't be sitting here, practically very literally feeling the other man's hurt as if it was his own. He blames having Peter's power, taken from Arthur, in addition to his own means of taking without killing and looks away. "People change."

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

"It's been weeks!"

People don't change that fast!

[heroslayer]

"Not for me." Cryptic, he knows, but he's not sure he wants to get into the whole We Were Together Once thing this soon. One thing at a time. "I didn't kill the real Zane. I sent him off to his parents' house in North Carolina. I even gave him a way to control his power so that he wouldn't hurt anyone he cared about."

Not that Zane probably recognized it as such, but when he touched his mind to order him away, he intentionally left him with a better understanding of his ability, too. The act of charity had mostly been for his own benefit -- he didn't want Mohinder finding an article about an entire family murdered by melting rather than an obituary, just to have history repeat itself -- but he's not going to admit to that if it makes him look good.

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

"Am I just meant to believe you? I know you killed my father. I saw it." He's stopped fighting it now. It's impossible to really do so. He's just tiring himself out and while he's sure it amuses Sylar, it doesn't help him figure out a way to get out of here. "I've seen your apartment. I know all about you!" Well, not all about him, but no matter.

[heroslayer]

"I'm not denying I killed your father." His first words concerning the truth had been to say he was Chandra's murderer, after all. "And I can take you to Zane if you want proof. I know where he is and I can get us there quicker than driving. We'll be back in time for dinner."

Actual dinner -- he still has no intentions of killing Dale. Not that Mohinder knows his metaphors for murder usually revolve around food. Contrary to popular belief, Mohinder doesn't know him half as well as he thinks, having seen his apartment or not.

[splice-of-life.livejournal.com]

No one knows he's here. No one can come to save him. He has no choice. He's under Sylar's mercy and it's not where that he wants to be. Trying to control his breathing, Mohinder licks his lips. "Why did you kill him?" One track mind? Can you blame him? "Why do you want to hurt people? You were nothing but kind to me-- Oh." An act. Obviously.

[heroslayer]

"It's a long story. Both of them are, actually. But me being nice to you wasn't an act." That's a long story, too, but at least he can get around telling it. Hopefully, he can get around telling any of them until after Mohinder's seen proof. "Like I said, people change."

He holds out a hand to him, slowly and carefully, not wanting to startle him further if only because it would be counterproductive. "Now, do you want to see that I'm telling the truth about Zane or not?"