Late Lunch
Mohinder leaned against the window as he stared out at the road. The bus had just come to a stop to let more people on. He made a mental count: six more stops before his own. Matt had promised to make burgers tonight. They were all going to celebrate Molly's first play wrapping up production. Mohinder had managed to attend the first two shows, and had cheered excitedly by Matt's side as Molly bowed and grinned out at the audience before hurrying away with her fellow actors, none of whom wished to be left standing in front of the curtain alone. Mohinder smiled at the memory as he felt someone slide into the seat beside him.
"You have such a lovely smile."
Mohinder attempted to stand even before his mind had finished processing the situation. The invisible force quickly shoved him back into his seat before he was able to raise himself more than a few inches. His heart thundered painfully as his gaze fell on the killer beside him.
"Relax," Sylar warned.
"What-what do you want?" Mohinder hissed. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a woman, two seats before them, half turned to see what was going on. Mohinder realized the danger he would be placing the handful of riders in if he made a scene. Sylar was sitting between Mohinder and the aisle, his long legs blocking any exit the geneticist might have attempted in his foolish hope of escape.
"I just want to talk," Sylar said.
"Then talk."
"Not here. Our stop is soon."
Mohinder felt that familiar cold feeling trickling down his spine and gripping his stomach. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it when he couldn't think of anything coherent to say. He turned his gaze down to his hands, which trembled in his lap. Sylar traced a finger through one of Mohinder's curls, causing the geneticist to flinch away slightly.
"You've let your hair grow out again. I like it. It's a bit longer now than when I first met you," Sylar said.
"I don't work for the Company anymore. I'm not of any use to you. I'm not special. I'm not-I'm.. Mohinder blurted.
"Shh, shh," Sylar leaned close to Mohinder, attempting to calm him, "if you panic now you risk putting innocent lives in danger. Do you understand?"
Mohinder nodded with short jerky movements before his gaze trailed up to the woman in front of them, then to the bus driver, to a teenager listening to his ipod, and to the mother with her baby and husband in the front of the bus. None of them now paid any attention to the two men in the back. He desperately wished he'd taken a taxi that afternoon. The bus had become a convenient habit lately that brought him to the university where he taught and did his research, and dropped him off right by his own home. It cost little, and he and Matt had been stressing eco-friendly forms of travel to Molly, so the bus seemed the logical choice. But now..
'This is our stop," Sylar said, casually leaning over Mohinder to pull the line above the window which signaled the driver with a ding. Mohinder held his breath, as the killer's body leaned against his for a moment before Sylar slid back into his own seat. As the bus slowed, Sylar took a firm grip on Mohinder's arm, and pulled the geneticist to a standing position with him. The killer called up a thanks to the driver as they exited out of the back side door. Once the bus had begun to pull away, Mohinder made a vain attempt to free himself of Sylar's grip, but the killer easily pulled Mohinder along with him down the sidewalk, turning a corner and heading along an alley. After a few more turns, and two more alleys, whose increasing states of decrepitness were causing Mohinder more and more alarm as he was forced further from the safety of a peopled city, Sylar stopped at a brown door amongst a blue-bricked wall. The killer glanced around before opening the door and shoving Mohinder inside. Mohinder saw a dirty tiled wall for just a moment before the door was shut, and the outside light was cut off behind him. He stood completely still, hearing his own breathing magnified strangely in the darkness.
Sylar took Mohinder's arm again, and led the stumbling geneticist along in the blackness, opening another door into a room where Mohinder believed the walls were moving as he first looked upon them. After his eyes adjusted he realized that the walls weren't moving, but were in fact shimmering with the reflections of light off a large swimming pool. The lights were somewhat dim, giving the room its ethereal glow. Sylar pulled Mohinder into the room with him, bringing him over to stand by a small round table with patio chairs, before finally releasing Mohinder's arm. On the table there was a brown paper bag.
"A pool?" Mohinder asked, raising an eyebrow despite his panic.
"I found it awhile ago. This place had been closed down. I cleaned the pool out, and refilled it. It's very peaceful here."
Mohinder looked over the glittering water. The chlorine smell and the light trickling sounds were reminding him forcibly of some of the best times of his childhood. He'd loved to swim. Summers at the waterside with his family were some of his fondest memories. Were he not currently in fear for his life he might have stripped half his clothes off and dove in right then. Mohinder forced himself to look back at Sylar, who was grinning vaguely at him.
"This is how you're going to kill me? Drowning?" Mohinder asked.
"I hadn't thought about that actually," Sylar laughed. The killer moved quickly to stand behind Mohinder. The geneticist tensed as Sylar deftly slid Mohinder's coat from his shaking shoulders. Sylar draped the coat over the back of a chair, then motioned for Mohinder to have a seat.
"Isn't there supposed to be music and candlelight? Or should I be requesting a cigar with my last meal," Mohinder asked as he sat down. Sylar scoffed as he removed his own jacket and took the seat across from Mohinder's.
"Sorry, all out of candles," Sylar said, "out of knives, guns, and curare too."
Sylar opened the paper bag and went through its contents as Mohinder quickly glanced about the room, trying to take in as much as he could. When he sensed the killer looking at him again, Mohinder's gaze fell to the left cuff of his blood-red button-up shirt. He picked absently at it as he struggled to gaze anywhere but at his captor.
"Are you hungry?" Sylar asked.
"Not particularly," Mohinder said, eyeing the former contents of the paper bag which were now spread across the table. It looked like a picnic. There was potato salad, egg salad, turkey and cheese sandwhiches, potato wedges, and brownies.
"Maybe later then," Sylar shrugged, leaving the stuff on the table as he leaned back in his chair.
"Sylar, what is it you're trying to do here?"
"I'm offering you lunch..a late lunch anyway."
"And then?"
"I haven't really thought about it," Sylar said, "I don't know what to do with you now that you're here."
"Let me go," Mohinder said, "I haven't been hunting you. I'm not trying to harm you. You killed my father, I tried to shoot you. I'd say we're even."
"Out of the question," Sylar said, crossing his arms.
Mohinder stood suddenly, taking a few quick steps toward the pool and coming to stand next to the dark green ladder that led into the deep end of the water. Sylar's chair scraped as he jumped up in surprise, walking over to Mohinder.
"What are you doing?" Sylar demanded.
"Nothing..I used to swim all the time as a child. I'm just looking," Mohinder said.
"Come sit down," Sylar said, placing a hand on Mohinder's shoulder. The killer sounded surprised, but his voice suggested repercussions if Mohinder didn't obey.
I'm going to die here. He's going to end my life by this pool, happily eating his potato salad as I lie..
Mohinder's thoughts steeled him for the sudden action that took them both by surprise. He grabbed Sylar's hand as it rested on his shoulder, then threw all his weight into dragging them both into the water. Mohinder had managed to take a deep breath before he plunged in, pulling Sylar with him under the surface. Both men struggled as the ethereal world bubbled around them. Mohinder's curls floated about his face as he pulled at Sylar's shirt, trying so hard to keep the killer from reaching the surface. Sylar's strong arms gripped Mohinder's wrists, squeezing until Mohinder was wincing in pain. In the struggle, Mohinder suddenly found his face less than an inch from Sylar's, both men frantic as they fought one another. Then their lips met, desperate and harsh. Mohinder didn't know who had initiated the kiss, and was too startled to care. Sylar bit desperately at the geneticist's lower lip, Mohinder jerking slightly as a small trail of blood wound its way up from his mouth, dancing in the water between them. Sylar pulled back before Mohinder lunged forward, freeing his wrists from Sylar's hands so he could place his own hands on either side of Sylar's head, pulling the man toward him so hard into another kiss that they knocked teeth. Neither man cared as their tongues met, pushing and tasting, darting and feeling. Even underwater, Mohinder could hear Sylar moaning. He wanted to keep him down, keep him under. Just another minute.
Mohinder felt Sylar's hands on his upper-arms now, squeezing tightly. The geneticist's lungs began to feel restricted, and his body alerted him that he needed oxygen soon. He could only imagine how Sylar must be feeling. The killer's grip was beginning to loosen, and Mohinder sensed he might yet survive this when he suddenly felt himself being pushed up by the invisible force. He and Sylar reached the surface at the same time, both breaking the kiss to gasp for much needed air. Mohinder shoved away from Sylar, back-paddling fast so he was out of reach of the killer.
"You tried to kill me," Sylar said when he could finally breathe again. Mohinder swallowed as he backed into the concrete side of the pool right next to the dark green ladder. He brushed the long wet curls from his face so he could have his full attention on the killer. Sylar's short hair, which had been spiked a few moments ago, was now lying flat and un-styled. It was not unattractive.
"I'm sorry," Mohinder said, meaning it, but not in the sense he wanted conveyed to Sylar. The killer crossed the distance between Mohinder and himself in just a few strokes, placing a hand on the edge of the pool over Mohinder's left shoulder to anchor himself. Mohinder waited, not knowing if he was about to receive the final death blow, or whether Sylar had something else in mind. His tennis shoes began to feel very heavy as he treaded water in place, looking at Sylar, wondering what the man would do. Mohinder was startled when Sylar reached out a hand to caress his jaw. Sylar's thumb traced up from Mohinder's chin, and brushed lightly over the wounded lip. Then Sylar leaned forward and claimed Mohinder's mouth again, pulling against the edge of the pool to press his body into Mohinder's. Geneticist and killer came together in a third kiss that was just as intense as the first two, though this time they were able to catch their breath on occasion as they explored one another's mouths with their tongues. Mohinder moaned when he felt a hand stray down to his jeans, massaging the bulge of his groin through the wet fabric.
At the unexpected contact, Mohinder momentarily forgot to keep treading water, and found himself slipping under the surface for a second, sputtering as he broke from the kiss, catching himself on the ladder before he was fully immersed. Sylar grinned as Mohinder coughed.
"And you're trying to kill me," Mohinder gasped when he could finally talk.
"I guess we're even, as usual," Sylar said.
The killer's attentions didn't end there as he continued to massage Mohinder. Mohinder bucked as he felt invisible fingers slowly begin to slide down his stomach toward his pelvis, separating to move to his groin and behind him to the small of his back. He gasped, and his hand gripped the ladder so tightly that he pulled himself a few inches out of the water. Sylar dove both of his hands into the water to attack the belt of Mohinder's pants. He tugged the belt open, then undid the button and pulled down the zipper of Mohinder's jeans. The geneticist was jerked down slightly again as his shoes were pulled off by telekinesis, followed by his socks. His attention was being held by Sylar's hands brushing lightly against his pelvis, the telekinetic fingers massaging his cock, and the invisible force running slowly up and down his back.
Sylar hooked his thumbs into the sides of Mohinder's pants before taking a breath and disappearing under the surface. Mohinder felt the fluid motion of Sylar pushing down his jeans and boxers, then he moaned and jerked in surprise and pleasure when Sylar's mouth enveloped his cock. His fingers began to hurt as he gripped the ladder still more tightly. His free hand strayed down to Sylar's hair as the killer used Mohinder's hips to anchor himself. Sylar bobbed his head back and forth underwater as he sucked hard and fast on Mohinder's cock. Mohinder gripped Sylar's hair, his own body shuddering at the intense pleasure. No one had ever done this for him before. Nobody had wanted him this way in his lifetime. Sylar's attention scared and exhilerated him at the same time. As a particularly wonderful jolt of ecstasy overtook him, he tugged roughly on Sylar's hair. The killer continued to work Mohinder hard underwater for a few more moments, bubbles floating up to break on the surface from the air escaping his lungs, then he pulled back and surfaced, and both men caught their breath at the same time.
"I can't hold my breath that long," Sylar said, grinning as he swam forward and placed his hands on Mohinder, one on either hip. Sylar leaned sideways and nipped at Mohinder's earlobe, before tracing a series of light bites up from Mohinder's neck to his ear. Mohinder moaned at the bites, and the telekinetic fingers running slowly now up the insides of both thighs. Sylar simultaneously bit down hard at the nape of Mohinder's neck, and forced the telekinetic fingers to meet at the apex of Mohinder's thighs before gliding over the geneticist's balls, and the bottom of his erection, running right up to the tip of his throbbing cock. Jerking back from the double blow of sensations, painful and delicious, Mohinder smacked his head into the concrete edge of the pool, seeing stars for a moment.
Sylar took that instant to pull back from the geneticist's neck and wrap an arm around Mohinder's waist, using telekinesis to help him as he brought Mohinder up to set him on the edge of the pool. Mohinder fell slowly back to lie dazed on the firm concrete, his legs angled over the edge of the pool, still immersed in the water. Sylar positioned himself between Mohinder's legs as he continued to tread water, running a hand slowly up and down Mohinder's cock. He traced the hand down, fingers smoothing over Mohinder's balls, then running up the side of his pelvis. Sylar propped his elbows on the edge of the pool on either side of Mohinder's hips as the geneticist strained his neck to watch. The killer ran his hands up and down Mohinder's torso, grazing his stomach, before coming to rest at the base of his chest, fingering the middle of his shirt. Mohinder groaned as Sylar's chest rubbed against his erection. In one swift motion, Sylar gripped Mohinder's shirt tightly and ripped it apart, sending buttons clattering every which way. Mohinder lay his head back on the concrete, his chest moving heavily up and down as Sylar continued tracing long fingers up his torso, pausing to rub a rough circle over each nipple with deft thumbs. Sylar's hands slid sideways away from the nipples, running down along Mohinder's sides and slowly back to his pelvis.
Mohinder moaned sharply as Sylar once again enveloped the geneticist's cock in his mouth. The vacuum of suction, coupled with Sylar's right hand now gently squeezing Mohinder's balls caused the geneticist's legs to tense against the wall of the pool, his back arching to bring his pelvis up swiftly. Sylar made a sharp surprised noise in the back of his throat as Mohinder thrust into his mouth. Sylar's gaze traced up to Mohinder's face, a smile at the corner of his eyes as he continued to move rapidly up and down, sucking, licking, taking in every inch of Mohinder he could manage. Mohinder shivered, keeping eye-contact with Sylar as the man continued to suck him off. The killer used one hand to prop himself up, the other tracing over Mohinder's balls, then down to the inside of his thigh, along his calf, and back up again, slowly.
Mohinder propped himself on his elbows to watch, the intense pleasure making it hard to breathe. The shiver in his body continued to build, and he fought to contain himself, his head lolling back for a moment, and his eyes fluttering shut as he felt like he was about to explode. He reached forward with his shaking right hand, gripping a fistful of Sylar's wet hair tightly. A thousand images ran through his mind. Everything from the moment he'd first laid eyes on Sylar, to the man sitting helplessly strapped to a chair in his livingroom, the killer looking intently at him across the kitchen table, to those cold nights in Montana where they talked long into the evening. Mohinder's breathing escalated, a series of moans escaping his throat, weaving their way out past his tongue. His fingers tugged forcefully at Sylar's hair, and the other man had to pull against Mohinder's grip to keep oral contact with his cock. Mohinder's hand fell away from Sylar's messy hair, slapping against the concrete as he tried to support himself through the orgasm. It was no use. He fell back against the concrete, his back arching repeatedly, sharply as he came, shuddering moans escaping him again and again. Sylar gave a muffled moan as Mohinder's cum spilled into his mouth. He swallowed quickly against the intrusion, a hand still gripping Mohinder's balls, trying to force the orgasm to continue.
"Fuuuu-nnnnnggggghhhhh," Mohinder grunted the incoherent jumble of words, his eyes screwed tightly shut as everything exploded into a brilliant white before him. His chest rose and fell with each shuddery gasp. Finally, Sylar pulled away from him. When Mohinder's vision cleared he looked down to see Sylar wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a familiar grin on his face. It took Mohinder a long time to recover from the blinding orgasm. His body still trembled as Sylar gently pulled him forward into the water. Sylar ran his hands up Mohinder's chest, and over his shoulders, pulling away the ruined shirt. He dropped it into the pool where it floated lazily away from them in the ripples of the water. The killer then swooped in on Mohinder, dragging the man flush with him and claiming his mouth again. Mohinder tasted himself as Sylar's tongue snaked into his mouth. He didn't pull away, instead returning the kiss with all the passion with which it had been delivered. Sylar finally came away, biting his own bottom lip as he looked expectantly at the geneticist.
Mohinder understood immediately, and while Sylar steadied himself on the edge of the pool once more, Mohinder's hands moved to the belt of Sylar's pants. The killer kicked off his shoes underwater as Mohinder undid the belt, unzipped the pants, and with Sylar's help, pulled them down. Taking a deep breath, Mohinder submerged himself again, shoving Sylar's pants the rest of the way off his legs. Sylar's socks came off as they were rolled away with the legs of the jeans. He was already hard. Mohinder gripped the killer's hips as he wrapped his mouth around Sylar's cock. He felt the killer's body jerk as he began a smooth pattern of tracing his mouth back and forth over the erection.
Mohinder's curls danced around him, weaving in the water as he moved. His right hand traced back from Sylar's hip to clench his left ass cheek. The same hand soon traced down, running along the back of Sylar's thigh, then coming around to the front, before running up the inside of the killer's leg. There was a thrashing in the water above him when Mohinder's hand came to rest on Sylar's balls, brushing over them gently at first, then cupping them in his hand and massaging firmly. Sylar's left hand plunged underwater, running long fingers through Mohinder's curls before gripping a handful of the geneticist's long dark hair. Sylar's arm moved back and forth with Mohinder's head, gripping just tight enough to guide him, but not hard enough to hurt.
The world had become a series of muffled moans and strange pressures, from the water pressing against his ears, the vacuum he was creating with his mouth, to the gentle tug of Sylar's hand on his hair. It was comforting, and safe. He knew in those breathless moments that Sylar was not going to kill him, not yet anyway. Soft bubbles trickled against Mohinder's face, tickling him. He was beginning to feel the burning in his lungs, and he moved his right hand back to Sylar's hip. He bobbed back and forth a half dozen more times before pulling back from the warm cock, feeling the cool pool water against his mouth as he pushed toward the surface, trailing his right hand softly over Sylar's stomach through the cloth of the killer's shirt as he rose. Sylar's hand fell away from his hair, and the killer helped guide Mohinder toward much needed oxygen.
"You held your breath for almost two minutes," Sylar said with not a little amazement as Mohinder filled his lungs with sweet air.
"What can I say, I'm a bit of a water element," Mohinder smiled, glancing at the killer's watch, which he hadn't noticed before under the man's shirt sleeve. Mohinder traced a hand idly over the watch, then tugged slightly on the blue sleeve of Sylar's shirt. Continuing to tread water, Mohinder gripped Sylar's shirt and ripped it from the killer's torso, causing Sylar to blink in surprise. Pulling away the last shreds of the shirt, Mohinder smiled as he looked at Sylar's bare chest.
"You're quite fit," Mohinder said matter of factly. He was surprised and amused to find that Sylar was blushing.
"You're so..beautiful, Mohinder," Sylar said, his voice softer than usual. Mohinder smiled in thanks, but he suddenly realized how uncomfortably naked he was in the presence of a serial killer. He shivered. Sylar misinterpreted this gesture as he ran a hand lovingly over Mohinder's shoulder. Sylar's hand gripped Mohinder's shoulder lightly as he made to turn him around, to enter him. Mohinder grabbed Sylar's hand in his own, shaking his head.
"No, not.. Mohinder trailed off, unsure.
"What? What's wrong?" Sylar asked, his eyebrows knitted in concern. Mohinder weighed his options in that moment, and realized the safest bet would be to compromise. His smile widened as he looked Sylar in the eye.
"Nothing's wrong, I just want to be facing you," he said, bringing Sylar's hand to his mouth and licking the tips of Sylar's index and middle fingers. Mohinder sucked softly on the digits, eliciting a moan from the killer. Sylar turned his hand slightly so that his thumb brushed over Mohinder's bottom lip. Mohinder nipped lightly at the thumb with his teeth, darting his tongue out to taste the chlorinated water, mixed with the salt of Sylar's skin. The killer smiled, shivering at the contact. Then Sylar traced the hand down Mohinder's chest, sliding back around his hip, and coming to rest on his ass. Sylar pulled Mohinder toward him, and the geneticist gripped the ladder again as he wrapped his legs around the killer. Mohinder's heart beat furiously as he anticipated the penetration, and Sylar leaned forward until his lips brushed Mohinder's ear.
"It'll be okay."
Sylar pressed one finger in to start, moving in and out of Mohinder with relative ease. He did the same with two fingers, scissoring Mohinder open, willing him to relax. Then Sylar positioned himself so that his erection rested against Mohinder's ass. The geneticist swallowed hard and forced himself to breathe. Sylar pushed inside in one smooth motion, and Mohinder hissed out through clenched teeth as his hand flew to a higher position on the ladder, gripping hard enough to make his fingers ache once more in protest. Sylar pushed as far as he could, then pulled out most of the way, before pressing in again, and again. The friction was enough to make Sylar moan with every thrust. His left hand, which had been holding onto the ladder to give himself momentum, moved up to grasp Mohinder's hand. His right hand was on Mohinder's hip, pulling the geneticist toward him over and over. Mohinder had forced himself to relax, the alternative being a world of pain. He felt his body rise and fall in the water, which sloshed repeatedly against the wall with Sylar's movements. They finally found a rhythm, and Mohinder actually began to feel pleasure from the pressure inside him. Sylar's breathing intensified as he looked Mohinder in the eye.
Mohinder flinched for a second, breathing sharply in pain from the friction of a particularly violent thrust. Sylar adjusted his speed, gliding in again much more smoothly. Both men were enjoying the continued pressure inside Mohinder's body. The geneticist ran his free hand up Sylar's neck, over his jaw-line, caressed the killer's lips. Sylar moved his head to bite down softly on Mohinder's index and middle fingers. Geneticist and killer looked one another in the eye, in that moment finding a stronger connection than either man had ever felt before in his life. Sylar opened his mouth wider, and Mohinder brought his hand away to grip the concrete edge behind him as the killer began to orgasm. Mohinder's stomach tensed as the sensation within him crescendoed. He gasped in a half orgasm as Sylar came inside him. The killer gave sharp moans as his left hand gripped Mohinder's right hand tightly.
"Mo-hind..I..NEED..YOU."
Sylar's last word echoed through the room as he filled Mohinder. After several shuddering breaths, he pulled out and brought his body flush with Mohinder's, trembling as he hugged the geneticist to himself. Sylar's breathing was heavy against Mohinder's ear. The geneticist shook too, as he placed an unsure hand on the small of Sylar's back, resting his chin on the killer's shoulder.
"Be with me," Sylar whispered, "leave them, and be with me."
Mohinder closed his eyes.
"Sylar, don't-"
"Mohinder-"
"Please," Mohinder begged in a whisper, "they're my family. Don't ask me to-"
Sylar pulled back so that he could look Mohinder in the eye.
"I want this, always. There's no use in being special when I don't have someone to share it with, someone who makes me feel this way. Be with me."
"I can't. Sylar, this wasn't supposed to happen. It was an accident. I have to go back..
"No, you don't."
Mohinder felt the exhaustion and fear creeping through his body. He was becoming very aware of the throbbing pain on the back of his head where he'd hit the concrete. His hand twitched on the ladder, but Sylar held it firmly in place. Mohinder shook his head slightly, mouthing Sylar's name in a silent plead for reason. The killer's expression turned dangerous, warning, as he gripped Mohinder's chin in his hand.
"I'm not offering you a choice, Suresh, I'm telling you."
"Sylar, let me go."
The killer moved in until he was half an inch away from Mohinder's face, his warm breath brushing over the geneticist's lips when he spoke.
"Think of all the people I could find with little Molly's precious gift," Sylar hissed, "or all the things I could learn once I'm reading people's minds. I'm sure it'll get awful lonely in that big old house all by yourself."
Mohinder choked back a sob as Sylar let him go. Tears ran down the geneticist's cheeks, mingling with the water running from his curls, as Sylar took a breath before diving underwater. The killer surfaced a few moments later, holding Mohinder's jeans out. Wiping the tears away with the back of his hand, Mohinder let Sylar help him into his pants. The killer used telekinesis to pull his own up. Mohinder dragged himself up onto the edge of the pool, only realizing how much his leg muscles burned when he was sitting on the hard concrete. Sylar climbed out of the pool to sit next to Mohinder, brushing a hand lightly over the geneticist's jeans, which suddenly warmed up until they were completely dry. Another stolen ability, another lost life. Mohinder stared out over the rippling water as the killer continued to graze a hand tenderly over his body, brushing up to rest softly on the geneticist's bare shoulder.
"Are you tired?" Sylar asked, the former anger in his voice completely dissipated. Mohinder nodded, and Sylar held out his right hand, summoning Mohinder's jacket to him, folding it, and placing it on the ground behind the geneticist. He pressed softly on Mohinder's chest, guiding him back until he was lying on the makeshift pillow. Sylar lay on his side, propped on his right elbow, tracing his left hand absently over Mohinder's chest.
"You really are beautiful, you know," Sylar said, sounding slightly embarrassed. Mohinder forced a smile, looking straight up at the ceiling as he felt his eyelids begin to droop from exhaustion. He sensed Sylar summoning his own jacket, listening as the killer set it on the ground and rested his head on it, lying on his right side so he could rest his left hand on Mohinder's chest.
"We'll finish our lunch later," Sylar said.
"Yes," Mohinder murmured, closing his eyes completely and drifting off to sleep, the strangely comforting warmth of Sylar's arm across his bare chest, rising and falling along with Mohinder's steady breaths.