Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes. If I did whiny Maya would have been killed with her stupid brother, and Mohinder and Sylar would TOTALLY be fucking. ALL THE TIME.
Warning: Contains blood, violence, abuse, sex. Don't say you weren't warned.
What is done out of love always takes place beyond good and evil.
Nietzsche
He would never know, he told himself, exactly why he loved the man so much. Sylar had hurt him so many times, and yet when Gabriel resurfaced Mohinder always found himself able to forgive his lover for the pain inflicted by his other personality. If Sylar was the Id, the base impulses and unappeasable urges of the dark psyche, then Gabriel was the Ego, desperately trying to control his more feral side.
Making love with Gabriel is sweet and soft and warm, full of caring and gentle touches, fingers brushing lightly over faces and tender caresses.
Sex with Sylar is rough and fast and painful, a rush of clashing teeth and sharp nails scraping into flesh, of cuts on wrists and bruises on legs and arms, of bodies slammed into walls and names screamed into the night in a mixture of pain and pleasure.
Making love with Gabriel is tentative and planned, careful and delicate and blushing a charming pink as kiss-swollen lips meet in encounters that taste of cinnamon and chai and lavender.
Sex with Sylar is sudden and wild, anywhere and anytime, teeth sinking into shoulders and necks, red blood staining lips and heads shoved back, hair yanked out by an angry and aggressive hand,
In the first, Mohinder finds himself smiling, panting softly, moaning as waves of pleasure wash over him. In the second, he finds himself with his eyes squeezed tightly shut, with gritted teeth and screams of mixed emotion.
After Sylar, Mohinder will collapse onto the floor, or the couch or the washing machine or his desk or wherever. He will be sticky and exhausted, and when he opens his eyes after a single eye-clearing blink the tall, pale man will be gone, and Mohinder will find himself tearing up.
After Gabriel they collapse together onto soft pillows, bodies streaked with sweat and limbs gripping tightly to each other as last soft passionate kisses are offered and taken. A pale arm curls around a golden side, fingers stroking the rising and falling chest. Black curls brush a stubbly cheek, and the two men will drift off together into a deep sleep.
Sometimes Gabriel will awaken in the middle of the night and Mohinder will roll over, flashing his lover a sleepy smile. But then the smile is replaced with a grim line and the half-lidded dream-sodden eyes will snap open as Mohinder recognizes that his gentle boyfriend is gone, replaced in the dark with the man who hurts him so much. And there in the night Sylar will take Mohinder, and Mohinder will be ashamed of the needy pleas that the angry man can rip from his lips. He will leave the Indian man with bruises between his thighs and tears drying on his cheeks, his eyes burning with shame.
In the morning Mohinder always wakes up first, stumbling to the bathroom to examine the previous night's damage. He slathers on the concealer, the foundation and the cover-up, hiding the wounds from view with a well-chosen sweater and too-big jeans that make the tripping look natural.
When Gabriel finds him making breakfast, he'll slide his arms round Mohinder's waist and nuzzle his cheek gently. Mohinder will smile and nuzzle back, and then the coffee will be done and Gabriel will leave for the day, leave to help the strangers in his shop.
Mohinder spends the day at home, tinkering with chemicals and formulas. He has created a remedy, a medicine that heals the wounds with super speed, so that when Gabriel comes home he is greeted at the door by his love, looking fresh and unbroken.
Gabriel never remembers Sylar's visits. He has only found the bruises once, when he had a day off work. Mohinder lied, and told him that he had been mugged. Gabriel forced him to go to the emergency room, where Mohinder faced suspicious stares when he vehemently refused a rape test.
"Did he do this to you?" The doctor had whispered, gesturing at Gabriel, who was waiting in the hallway, looking worried. Mohinder had shook his head and denied the claim.
Mohinder loved Gabriel, loved him from the bottom of his damaged heart. And as much as it shamed him, he loved Sylar too. Loved the pain, loved the abuse, loved the loathing. Loved the smiles, loved the comfort, loved the adoration.
But Mohinder was always scared. Always worried of what might happen, what could happen if Sylar went to far one night. What would happen to Gabriel is Sylar killed Mohinder? How would Gabriel feel waking up draped in blood-soaked sheets beside his lover? Would Gabriel blame himself? Would he go mad?
That was why Mohinder fought. Every night. He fought for his soul, he fought for his freedom.
But most of all he fought for his love.