A/N: Follow up to the last prompt only this time it's Sylar hating a scarf Mohinder buys him.
Sylar stared into the box, his left eye twitching as they absorbed and were repulsed by the hideous colors. He was very glad Mohinder was busy putting away the dinner dishes; it would crush the poor man to see Sylar's face twisted in a look of agony and disgust. Unfortunately for him, Molly was sitting there, licking off the last chocolate icing off her fork and staring at Sylar with big wide eyes.
"So how was your day at school Molly?" Mohinder's voice jolted Sylar from his momentary staring contest with the young girl (him trying to mentally send a message that she'd keep her mouth shut), and he turned to see his lover standing with a dish towel dangling over his right shoulder.
That warm, familiar hand had found its way into Sylar's hair, smoothing away the strands and causing Sylar to feel even worse. He could stand looking down at the striped scarf colored with blue, green, orange, and red. The fabric felt scratchy under his hand and he carefully set the box aside, unable to meet Mohinder's eyes and hoping the other man didn't ask him what he thought of the gift.
As a distraction, to hopefully keep Mohinder's future question away, Sylar pulled Molly's 'Winnie the Pooh' wrapped present closer and tore the wrapping to shreds.
It took all of Mohinder's efforts to not burst out laughing at his lover's reaction. He knew Sylar wouldn't like the scarf, he had bought it intentionally to see what the quiet ex-murderer would do and he wasn't being disappointed. Molly sent him secretive smile as Sylar tore the next present open, hesitating at pulling up the identical box that Mohinder's own gift had come in.
Within the box were identical wool socks, a perfect match to the scarf. Sylar's pale skin had a sheen of perspiration, his gaze roving to meet Molly's and his face paling even more. The usually composed man tried to smile in joy, but it came out like a grimace. Mohinder tried to contain his laughter as Sylar tried to voice some great exclamation of joy, but it was getting increasingly difficult when little's Molly face started turning red from her own efforts to contain laughter.
"It's…I really…Where did you get this? This is…Well…Very ni—well…good?" Sylar was floundering, his face cringing every time he looked into the box.
Molly failed then, head smacking the table as her little form erupted into giggles. Mohinder couldn't hold it in very longer, he had to use Sylar's chair as support as he moved to soothe the pain on Molly's sore forehead. His poor lover was sitting bewildered, reaching forward to catch Molly before she rolled to the floor and also holding Mohinder up when his legs gave way.
"What's going on?" Sylar demanded while shaking Mohinder, who rested his head on Sylar's shoulder as his body was racked with giggles.
"Your--Hahaha…Face! Ahahaha…Priceless!" Mohinder gasped, reaching up to kiss Sylar briefly on the lips before falling back into giggles.
"We should…Hahaha…Have--haha…photographed…" Molly couldn't even finish, she pounded her tiny fist on the table and let her crinkled, tear-filled eyes rest on Sylar's outraged face.
"You did this on purpose!" Sylar tried sounding angry, but it was really difficult when he had his lover pressed against him, laughing his head off with the most beautiful laughter Sylar ever had the pleasure of hearing.
"Sorry," Mohinder gasped, "We couldn't---hah---resist."
"Do I have to wear them?" Sylar asked fearfully, sending a frightened and horrified glance at the hideous scarf and socks.
"Well of course." Mohinder stated, his laughter subsiding and a stern face taking over. "We bought them for you. It'd be rude not to wear them."
Sylar looked horrified once more and Mohinder chuckled merrily, swatting his boyfriend on the head for believing the lie.
"Of course you don't have to wear them." Mohinder crowed, kissing those pouty lips once more and reaching to close both the boxes. "We kept the receipts; you can exchange them for something else tomorrow."
Sylar pulled Mohinder to him once more, devouring the lips in a kiss of gratitude and getting the customary 'Eww! Get a room!" from Molly who ran out of the room in another fit of giggles.
"I love you." Sylar muttered between kisses, feeling greatly relieved.
"Of course you do, Mr. Sylar." Mohinder chuckled, batting away wander hands and slipping from Sylar's grip. "None of that now; I have to do dishes first."
Sylar nodded, moving back to sit down at the table and glaring at the horrible boxes. He listened to Molly's television show as Mohinder clattered around the sink, putting dishes in their respective cupboards.
"You know," Sylar started, listening to hear Mohinder pause in his cleaning. "You probably could have used scarves instead."
"What are you talking about?" Mohinder wondered, moving back into the dining room and staring at Sylar with an eyebrow raised.
"When I was pretending to be Zane," Sylar answered, waiting for the Mohinder's stiffened form to relax before continuing. "If you had made me try on your wardrobe, instead of using that tuning fork, I probably would have given myself over to the police."
Mohinder looked thoughtful, setting the dish towel down and sitting in the seat next to Sylar's. "You know, that probably would have worked. Even back then you commented on how much you disliked my clothes."
Sylar smirked, his face taking on more color and an almost wolfish appearance. "You really have poor taste in color."
Mohinder used the slightly wet dish towel to slap at Sylar's defensive hand and stood up to return to his task.
"My choice in colors is fine." He stated huffily, "You just don't like me in clothes at all, makes you have to use your imagination."
Sylar laughed because he had to agree; Mohinder looked much better without any clothes on at all.
A/N: Shouldn't be anything new in this drabble section until I finish the stuff I'm doing for my other story.