They met at a coffee shop.
"Do you mind if I sit here?" An accented voice pulled him away from his newspaper.
Sylar looked up at the stranger who dared talked to him. Dark completion, dark curls, a skinny frame and intelligent eyes. Beautiful. He must have stared too long for the Indian man continued talking. "It's just that there's nowhere else to sit, and I just don't want to go back into the cold."
Now that the man mentioned it, Sylar noticed the way a colorful scarf was wrapped tightly around the man's neck and his ungloved hands were chapped and trembling. Sylar had already known the place was busy. It's why he had chosen this particular café. Crowds meant Bennett, if the bastard found him, wouldn't do anything while he was here. Crowds mean Samuel would have a difficult time picking him from Average Joe at table two.
Sylar folded his paper and laid it on the table. He pressed into the man's mind. The ability was almost worth the time spent sharing body with Parkman. There was nothing but thoughts of warm chi and a seat to rest his worn, chilled toes. "Sure thing," he said with a gesture to take a seat.
The man smiled and something inside Sylar flipped. The man slid into the chair opposite of him and rambled, "Thank you. I really appreciate the kind gesture. My cab broke down this morning and I had to take it to the shop. I waited there for a while, but the mechanic said it's going to take all day to fix and it was just too cold at the place for me to wait. So I walked the few blocks here. I love their chi. It reminds me home." The man must have caught Sylar's amused stare because he flushed- unnoticeable under that smooth, hazelnut skin to everyone but Sylar- and said, "Sorry, I'm Mohinder Suresh."
Sylar slid his palm against Mohinder's offered one. The man gave a slight tremor when the warmth of Sylar's skin pressed against his. "I'm Gabriel, Gabriel Gray."
This time when Mohinder smiled at him, Sylar noticed the way little crinkles cupped the corners of his eyes and his chocolate irises beamed happiness. "It's a pleasure to meet you Gabriel Gray." Nothing pinged inside his brain. Mohinder Suresh was telling the truth. It was a pleasure to meet him.
The barista called out, "Grande chi latte," and Mohinder smiled at him again and went to get his drink. Sylar couldn't help noticing the hem of a pink shirt sticking out from under Mohinder's jacket. For some reason that little flash of pink made a trickle of lust settle like fine scotch in the base of stomach.
When Mohinder came back, porcelain mug clenched forceful in between his hands, greedily stealing it's warmth, Sylar said, "So, you're from India?"
The other man nodded and took a sip of his drink. Sylar could smell the tangy spices of the chi from across the table. "Yes, I'm from Chennai. It's a rather large city, like New York." He smiled ruefully. "Though I dare say New York has several more high-rises than my hometown."
Sylar took a sip of his own coffee. "What brought you to America?"
Mohinder cuddled his mug close to his chest and let the steam kiss his face. He looked down at the honey colored liquid when he said, "My mother died, and staying where I had grown up, being with people that reminded me of her day in and day out was too much for me to take." His lashes fluttered up, and the depth of his loss was unmistakable. Sylar let his hand travel across the table and brush against Mohinder's wrist.
"I'm sorry. I've lost my own mother. I know how it feels."
Surprise flashed across Indian's face then Mohinder gave him tentative smile. Sylar could visible see him push away the grief; his fingers dropped back to the table. "And well, I had always wanted to come to America and study. I have a master's degree in genetics from Tamil University in India. I had hoped to get a PhD here in the states."
"Hoped?" Sylar asked.
"Yes, well, I have found getting accepted to a university here without money to spend is quite difficult. I have been here six months and I have found myself driving a taxi to pay for my bills." Mohinder's voice was light, but Sylar could tell this disappointed him to no end.
"People don't see what's right in front of them," Sylar told Mohinder.
Mohinder ducked his head. "That's very kind of you to say."
"It's the truth."
Something passed through the other man's eyes that Sylar couldn't decipher. "What are your plans for today, Mr. Gabriel Gray?"
Despite his lack of people skills, Sylar couldn't miss the deep, flirty tone in his new friend's voice. He thought about the invisible man he was chasing after. He thought about how that ability could be his. He thought about the idiots that are after him. Then his eyes slid over the lonely, hopeful look on Mohinder's face. He thought about this truthful stranger. "Nothing important," Sylar responded.
A shy smile replaced Mohinder's brilliant one. It's just as appealing as the first. He sat down his chi and tapped the tips of his fingers against Sylar's. When Sylar didn't pull away the tap morphed into a slight rub. "Would you like to keep me company while my taxi is being fixed?"
Sylar slipped his fingers into Mohinder's. They locked comfortably like pieces of a puzzle. He just smiled in response. I could use a nice distraction.