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FF: Crayons Can Melt On Us For All I Care
Title: Crayons Can Melt On Us For All I Care
Author: Adeline (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
gossy16)
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Sylar/Mohinder (*yay*)
Rating: PG-13 (*damn*)
Summary: He only needs to sneak one look, one look at the list and he's good to go. Spoilers up to and including episode 1x15, Run!. 756 words.
Disclaimer: I still don't own Heroes.
Notes: Title is stolen from Relient K. Romantics (ahem) will want to highlight below the last line for extra sentiment (ahem). I've white-fonted it, 'cause I'm evil like that.
He's got to earn his trust. He has to look like he's learning something, struggling with some of the more elaborate concepts - that Taylor fellow wasn't the sharpest tool in the box. Sylar reads the books and articles he's already memorized, and pretends not to grasp everything, asks for explanations. He doesn't mind listening, watching those lips, for hours on end, talking at him with hardly contained passion. Mohinder has no power proper that Sylar preys upon. The longer they talk, the deeper they connect; the faster he'll unburden secrets. He can distract him from news reports and papers in the meantime, accidentally melt the radio if he has to.
*
He's a smart guy, could have been a great doctor himself, one of the greatest, but Gabriel Gray was his father's son. Mohinder is his father's son all right, too, and Sylar has almost called him "professor" a few times, barely catching himself. But the spark is brighter in Dr. Suresh's eyes, the fire more fierce, and the ideas alive. He speaks with a faith akin to his own, if it weren't so blind. He looks at him for hope. It makes him laugh sometimes, in a way he never has, and he's thrown off for a second or two; he can't let it last. So, he puts those thoughts away, readjusts, and asks more questions to which he knows the answers. The attention the doctor pours into the discussion seems to come so easy, Sylar has no regrets for what he's done. He has a purpose here.
*
He slips, sometimes, just for a minute if even that, where he lets on more than he should. He knows Mohinder catches this, though he never mentions it. His curiosity will be the end of this, but he can't fight it anymore than he can the all-consuming desire ignited by that inexplicable smile. Time stops whenever those lips part, and he yearns to touch, crush their bodies together, taste the skin. He only needs to sneak one look, one look at the list and he's good to go; and he dismisses the first opportunity. It could be a test, and then this would all have been for nothing. The killings are nothing to him but a passing thrill, he'd avoid them if there were another way.
*
They'll call and visit more people together, and he'll let them be for the time being, just make a note of coming back again later. Their invariable doubtfulness and mistrust only makes Mohinder appreciate Zane all the more. When he's finally at the end of his wit and collapses against the closed door of his apartment after another long road trip, Sylar gathers him up in an embrace just the clumsy side of friendly, just the right amount of awkward. It's the closest they've come yet, but time marches on slow and steady, and they'll get closer still.
It's the first sign of aggressive behavior he displays here, because Mohinder's being so damn cautious, and it's ridiculously endearing, and he was just a man once, and sometimes feelings overcome. It's rare enough, harmless enough here, that he gives into that instinct. It's no matter to him if a dead body's name is breathed into his ear over and over, he couldn't expect anything else.
*
It's been an hour, a week, a lifetime; it's been a second, the blink of an eye. Sylar's idly stroking the lizard's back, as he does when he's (pretending to be) contemplating something he and Mohinder have just discussed that Zane can't quite work out. He knows, now, it can't be any other way. If it weren't this much too late, Sylar would move Parkman right to the top of his list. When he hears the security coming off a gun behind him, Sylar almost wants to point out how the murders have stopped, recently. Instead, he sets the reptile down in its tank, and turns around. The look on Mohinder's face beyond his trembling arm would touch him, maybe hurt, if he'd ever lost track of his goal.
"Your name isn't Zane Taylor, is it?" The doctor asks, all the light gone from him.
Sylar turns back in silence as if it's nothing, and tilts his head slightly towards the animal after a moment. "What do you feed this thing?"
The killings are nothing to Sylar. He'd avoid them if there were another way. Mohinder isn't halfway through calling him a bastard when he takes a violent fall through the window.
Now, to find the time-traveller...
Author: Adeline (
gossy16)Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Sylar/Mohinder (*yay*)
Rating: PG-13 (
Summary: He only needs to sneak one look, one look at the list and he's good to go. Spoilers up to and including episode 1x15, Run!. 756 words.
Disclaimer: I still don't own Heroes.
Notes: Title is stolen from Relient K. Romantics (ahem) will want to highlight below the last line for extra sentiment (ahem). I've white-fonted it, 'cause I'm evil like that.
He's got to earn his trust. He has to look like he's learning something, struggling with some of the more elaborate concepts - that Taylor fellow wasn't the sharpest tool in the box. Sylar reads the books and articles he's already memorized, and pretends not to grasp everything, asks for explanations. He doesn't mind listening, watching those lips, for hours on end, talking at him with hardly contained passion. Mohinder has no power proper that Sylar preys upon. The longer they talk, the deeper they connect; the faster he'll unburden secrets. He can distract him from news reports and papers in the meantime, accidentally melt the radio if he has to.
*
He's a smart guy, could have been a great doctor himself, one of the greatest, but Gabriel Gray was his father's son. Mohinder is his father's son all right, too, and Sylar has almost called him "professor" a few times, barely catching himself. But the spark is brighter in Dr. Suresh's eyes, the fire more fierce, and the ideas alive. He speaks with a faith akin to his own, if it weren't so blind. He looks at him for hope. It makes him laugh sometimes, in a way he never has, and he's thrown off for a second or two; he can't let it last. So, he puts those thoughts away, readjusts, and asks more questions to which he knows the answers. The attention the doctor pours into the discussion seems to come so easy, Sylar has no regrets for what he's done. He has a purpose here.
*
He slips, sometimes, just for a minute if even that, where he lets on more than he should. He knows Mohinder catches this, though he never mentions it. His curiosity will be the end of this, but he can't fight it anymore than he can the all-consuming desire ignited by that inexplicable smile. Time stops whenever those lips part, and he yearns to touch, crush their bodies together, taste the skin. He only needs to sneak one look, one look at the list and he's good to go; and he dismisses the first opportunity. It could be a test, and then this would all have been for nothing. The killings are nothing to him but a passing thrill, he'd avoid them if there were another way.
*
They'll call and visit more people together, and he'll let them be for the time being, just make a note of coming back again later. Their invariable doubtfulness and mistrust only makes Mohinder appreciate Zane all the more. When he's finally at the end of his wit and collapses against the closed door of his apartment after another long road trip, Sylar gathers him up in an embrace just the clumsy side of friendly, just the right amount of awkward. It's the closest they've come yet, but time marches on slow and steady, and they'll get closer still.
It's the first sign of aggressive behavior he displays here, because Mohinder's being so damn cautious, and it's ridiculously endearing, and he was just a man once, and sometimes feelings overcome. It's rare enough, harmless enough here, that he gives into that instinct. It's no matter to him if a dead body's name is breathed into his ear over and over, he couldn't expect anything else.
*
It's been an hour, a week, a lifetime; it's been a second, the blink of an eye. Sylar's idly stroking the lizard's back, as he does when he's (pretending to be) contemplating something he and Mohinder have just discussed that Zane can't quite work out. He knows, now, it can't be any other way. If it weren't this much too late, Sylar would move Parkman right to the top of his list. When he hears the security coming off a gun behind him, Sylar almost wants to point out how the murders have stopped, recently. Instead, he sets the reptile down in its tank, and turns around. The look on Mohinder's face beyond his trembling arm would touch him, maybe hurt, if he'd ever lost track of his goal.
"Your name isn't Zane Taylor, is it?" The doctor asks, all the light gone from him.
Sylar turns back in silence as if it's nothing, and tilts his head slightly towards the animal after a moment. "What do you feed this thing?"
The killings are nothing to Sylar. He'd avoid them if there were another way. Mohinder isn't halfway through calling him a bastard when he takes a violent fall through the window.
Now, to find the time-traveller...