Title: Force Of My Love 1/3
Author:![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
yaoi_anti_drug
Beta:ladywilde80 You are amazing!
Pairings: Sylar/Mohinder, Nathan/Mohinder, hints of Petrellicest
Genre: drama
Characters: Sylar, Mohinder, Nathan, Peter, Claire, Bennet, Parkman, Angela, Niki, Micah
Rating: R
Summary: AU, Mohinder goes to live with Petrelli's and as we all know, they are great with creating drama...
Word Count: about 5,470
Spoilers: By this time, you should have watched Season 1!
Warnings: Violence, mentions of non-con and sex, and character death.
Notes: Thank you toladywilde80 and Matt for helping me with this! Especially you, ladywilde! Constructive criticism is, as always, craved! Comments, even if it’s to say you hate it, are always appreciated too. Also: Title came from "Sea Lion" by Sage Francis
Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own Heroes or any character in the show. Just written for enjoyment.
Force Of My Love
“Someone’s following me.”
“Mohinder, don’t be ridiculous! No one is following you.”
“Peter, please listen to me. I think it’s Sylar.”
“Don’t you dare say that name again. Sylar is dead, Mohinder. Dead. You seem to be the only one who can’t accept that!”
Mohinder didn’t know what to do now. He’d already contacted anyone that was competent enough to help him. That is, anyone he could get a hold of. Bennet was no where to be found and the only people he could ask to assist him in finding the capable man currently thought he was simply paranoid.
Everyone wanted to think Sylar was dead so they could go on with their merry, uncomplicated lives. Mohinder wished he could do the same, but he couldn’t ignore the cold, hard facts. Sylar was alive and he was watching him. Four months after the explosion and Sylar was still haunting him.
~~~~~~
Mohinder first started feeling apprehensive when he went to his first day teaching at New York University. It wasn’t because he was worried he’d do badly or that the students would give him a hard time, but because right when he entered the college, he felt burning eyes bearing into his soul.
He’d only known of one other person whose very glance could set every nerve in his body aflame.
He’d tried not to make it obvious that he comprehended what was going on, he had to act normal and ignorant. But he knew his heart gave him away, it was pounding so hard he swore he might just have a heart attack on the spot.
As quickly as the feelings had come, they vanished and Mohinder was left standing in the sea of giggling, stressed out students. Left dazed and confused, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
Surely, it had been Sylar, but that monster had supposedly been killed at Kirby Plaza. There was no way he could have lived, he’d lost too much blood, and Bennet had assured everyone that Sylar would no longer terrorize anyone.
Bennet had been wrong, or he’d lied purposefully, which seemed more like something he’d do. Just to calm their nerves and aid them in going forth into new lives with no fear of suddenly having their heads sliced open one evening.
Mohinder had never had to worry about Sylar killing him in that way, after all, that was a quicker death then any Sylar would have planned for him. He’d seen through his lies, albeit a little too late, but even so, he’d caught Sylar unaware and had been able to capture him, keep him weak for longer than Sylar probably ever thought he would.
He’d proved that Sylar still wasn’t all-powerful, that he had weaknesses like any other human being, and the man hadn’t appreciated it. That was obvious by what he’d done to him after he got free.
His body had been covered in bruises and cuts, most of them able to be covered by clothing, while others went much deeper. The cruel way he’d constantly reminded him that, to his father, he’d never even been second best, that had been Sylar’s place, those would never be erased.
That hadn’t even been the end of the torment Mohinder had suffered. Even after the words, the beatings, Sylar hadn’t been close to being finished with him. Exchanging his cold exterior and violent hand for frightfully fierce passion he’d done more than take pleasure from his panic and humiliation, but he gave it to Mohinder, savoring every drawn out moment.
Sylar had whispered in Mohinder’s ear as he took everything from him, branding him with touches and traces that he would hide but be fully aware of all of his life.
“You’re mine. Ever since I first saw you through that door, do you understand? I own you.”
In a reply, Mohinder had just let out a stifled moan, the agony he was feeling intertwined with the mindless gratification Sylar was forcing him to experience.
Who knew what else Sylar’s morbid, twisted mind would have thought up to do to him if he hadn’t heard Peter Petrelli’s footsteps, flinging him to the ceiling, giving Peter an idea what Sylar was planning on doing to him.
The memories from that night always troubled Mohinder and kept his mind reeling with questions. Soon after, he’d begun to wonder just how long Sylar had been “offering” him his life, just how long he’d had domination over the situation but had let Mohinder feel falsely safe.
Maybe right from the beginning, maybe the curare hadn’t really affected him but that couldn’t be true. Sylar wouldn’t have let Mohinder give him a spinal tap, all of that pain, just to give him a chance to regret what he was doing and set him loose. He wanted to know so badly it almost hurt. Just how long had Sylar allowed Mohinder to hurt him and take away some of his pride and newly found security? And why?
Also, what had Sylar truly meant by his seemingly jealous promise, that Mohinder was his only. Was he just trying to scare him, keep him up at night, and ruin any future he could have with anyone just for the fun of it? Or was he only able to show that he truly cared about him through possession and torture?
Mohinder had tried abandoning these questions; they’d never be answered, but found himself unable to do so. He just shoved them to the back of his mind and tried not to think about it as much as possible, and failing miserably in the process.
~~~~~~
After a while, Mohinder really began to believe he was paranoid. Everywhere he went, he felt like he could see Sylar, feel his presence so close to him, it was driving him insane. It disrupted his daily life; the pin pricks on the back of his neck an every day occurrence.
As perturbing as the thought of Sylar watching him was, it was even more so upsetting to think what he could do to those around him without anyone there to keep him in check. He was a mad man, after all.
It also caused the creation of even more questions to plague his mind, the biggest being why. Why was Sylar following him, what was the point of this?
If he wanted the list, Mohinder wouldn’t give it to him. He didn’t even have it anymore; he wasn’t working on it. Bennet had tried to persuade him to finish it but he refused to even chance it getting into the wrong hands, those hands being anyone other than himself.
Was Sylar just having fun messing with his mind? Didn’t he have better things to do; maybe killing anyone who he thought was unworthy of his or her gifts? Not that he wanted him to continue that old routine, but it just seemed like Sylar was wasting time that he was fortunate to even have.
How had he survived in the first place? Mohinder supposed that was a stupid question; after all, it was Sylar he was talking about. A mere sword wouldn’t have ended that man’s life.
~~~~~~
Mohinder was more curious of Sylar’s motives than afraid. After all of the times he’d known Sylar was close to him, the man never once showed his face or any evidence that he was there, just Mohinder’s own intuition.
The dread commenced when he was woken up one morning by the boiling of a kettle on the stove, going into the small kitchen in his apartment, rubbing his eyes and groggy, woken up right away by the mundane scene in front of his eyes.
Sitting on the counter were two mugs he used for tea, one of them steaming, obviously filled with tea, the other unusually cold and empty. The symbolism was impossible to miss and immediately, Mohinder backed up, his hand grasping a chair as if to hold him up, eyes wide and staring at those two mugs.
Unable to resist, he glanced around the room a couple times, seeing no one and nothing out of the ordinary. More than unsettled, he pushed himself forward and shut the stove off, removing the kettle to stop the sound that was drilling enough to give him a headache.
Sylar had been in his apartment, that much he knew, and not too long ago. Was he still here? Was he watching him with baited breath, waiting to pounce and rip him and his life apart again?
He felt a shiver of terror drip down his spine, attempting to not to let it cloud his mind. He currently didn’t feel any eyes on him, but what he’d found was disturbing enough that he didn’t need to feel anybody watching him, he knew he was.
~~~~~~
Finally, Sylar struck, letting any indication of him being dead disappear into an abyss of old lies. Niki Sanders and Micah were both dead, found with the top of their heads cut open and their brains removed, a message that clearly stated this was just beginning. They believed him now.
No one understood why Sylar had first let himself be known to Mohinder, even if he’d never actually seen his face. They did know that he was important enough to be just as in danger as those with powers. He was the only one who really understood what was going on in this world, the evolution that was taking control.
Not only that, but Bennet still had some hope that Mohinder would start creating the list again, they needed it so they could defend people from threats, now more than ever. Sylar was alive and killing again.
Bennet had known the entire time that Sylar was still alive, he, like Mohinder had assumed, just didn’t want to frighten anyone more than needed. He’d obviously made a mistake in doing so, everyone should have been informed as to protect themselves and now because of his error, Niki Sanders and her son were dead.
In order to try and regain himself, Bennet talked Angela Petrelli into allowing Mohinder and Claire to stay in the Petrelli mansion, using the presence of their influential family for safety, most of all Peter who was, though he still hadn’t learned much control, the most powerful of any of them.
Bennet and Parkman would be trying to track Sylar down and kill him, end this once and for all. Claire was not happy about this arrangement, she argued with both of her fathers for quite some time. She wanted to go with Bennet, she couldn’t die, and she could help them. She did have a point, even Mohinder saw that, but it would be dangerous.
Bennet and Nathan would have none of it; they both cared too much for her to chance losing her. Defeated, Claire let Bennet and Parkman leave without her, but she sure as hell made sure to raise a ruckus at her new home, forever worried about the two and displaying it by constantly mentioning how she could have helped to protect them.
Before they left, Bennet spoke to Mohinder once again to try and convince him he should work on completing his father’s list. He’d have all of the money he needed, all the equipment, and they needed that list if they were going to stop Sylar, they had to save the people on it.
Mohinder didn’t agree, they had Peter to track the people down, one of Mohinder’s strongest contention, even if the man wasn’t as good as Molly would have been, but they no longer had access to her ability.
Molly had died almost three weeks after the explosion, not enough time for Peter to gain her power. Mohinder didn’t let himself dwindle on those memories as much as he was able; it had been his fault she died.
He’d left away for a few hours, just to go and get groceries, leaving Molly unattended. He’d gotten waylaid and when he finally returned, he found she’d relapsed and was dying. He tried to transfuse their blood, something that had worked so many times before, but it failed.
She had just continued to deteriorate, getting paler by the second, the light in her usually energetic eyes fading quickly. Calling the hospital hadn’t succeeded in anything; she still died, all because of his lack of attention.
Even without Molly’s power available for them to use, Peter was still a precog; all he had to do was paint who Sylar was going after next. But even Peter’s ability wasn’t enough, Bennet guaranteed Mohinder that without a name to attach to a face, the painting would be useless.
Hesitantly, Mohinder agreed to continue his research while he was living with the Petrelli’s, on only one condition. He still wanted to continue his teaching; he’d missed it since coming to America.
Of course, Bennet said yes to his request since it was the only way he was going to get Mohinder to finish the list for him.
~~~~~~
Mohinder heard shouting from across the hall, going to investigate only to find the two Petrelli brothers in a heated argument. Nathan looked grave, Peter was just livid.
“I have to go and find them, Nathan! I can’t just sit here, knowing what could happen, and yet not do anything about it.”
“It’s not your job, Peter. Your job is to stay here and defend the rest of us, isn’t that important enough for you?”
“You can defend yourself and so can everyone else...”
Peter’s resolution seemed to falter here and Mohinder began to back up, not wanting to get involved in one of these quarrels, he learned almost instantly to let these two sort things like this out with each other.
“You know we can’t, Pete. Claire, she has a effective power, but nothing would stop Sylar from killing her. Mohinder has no power to speak of and is, perhaps, the one who is most in danger from Sylar, you know better than anyone the vendetta Sylar has against him. And me…What can I do to protect myself? Fly?”
He laughed bitterly,
“Sylar would kill me in a second.”
Mohinder found he felt extremely uncomfortable being brought into one of the brother’s small fights, especially the way Nathan spoke of him. As if he were a child in need of guarding twenty-four seven, even if there was some truth to what he said.
“I just want to…”
“You want to save everyone, I know, but you just can’t. Stop trying to be such a hero, you can’t do it all.”
Peter looked so forlorn and lost, more like a puppy than ever before and Mohinder knew that was a difficult task for the younger brother. Mohinder finally turned and left as Nathan embraced his brother in a tight hug that Mohinder, as well as anyone else who cared to look, was deeper than society should have let it be.
~~~~~~
Peter was gone the next day. No one knew where he’d went off to, though everyone turned to Nathan as if he were the one who’d have the information. He didn’t have it, instead he was uncharacteristically the most distressed out of all them. He confided in Mohinder his concern when he had no one else to turn to.
“Mohinder, he wanted to go and find Sylar himself, I told him it was more important to stay here, and he went anyways. Oh god, what if I’m never going to see him again? What if he’s going to die?”
Mohinder hardly knew how to comfort the man who had once pretended he was a lunatic; it seemed way out of his league, but he wouldn’t abandon his newfound friend.
“He’ll come back, Nathan. I’m sure he will, and he’ll be in one piece.”
His voice seemed to display that he had complete faith in his words because Nathan smiled at him and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently as if to say he’d really relieved him of some tension.
Too bad he didn’t fully believe what he said to Nathan. If Peter did find Sylar, he was sure that he would put an end to Peter’s life. If that did happen, Nathan would probably never see his brother again.
~~~~~~
Without Peter around, the only person Nathan had to keep himself together was Mohinder. His wife had finally left him, accepting that she’d never be number one in Nathan’s heart, that place belonged to someone else.
In order to keep them unharmed, Heidi also took her and Nathan’s kids with her. Nathan did miss them, but he knew it had been for the best, he could never give them the full attention they deserved. He just wasn’t father material, even if he did love them.
That went for his newly discovered daughter as well. He tried to be good to Claire, but she turned him away, she hated him. She blamed him for a lot that had happened, including Peter’s explosion that had cost them a month of thinking that they both were dead, a month that just drove father and daughter farther apart.
Claire didn’t seem to want to get close to Nathan, like she was afraid of him turning on her, using her for personal gain, which would seem understandable to anyone who didn’t know Nathan.
The only thing that mattered in Claire’s life was the safety of her adopted father and Peter. It was so much like a teenager; Mohinder knew it was just a phase. She would come to care for her biological father. Nathan wasn’t a horrible person, he was very admirable, which was something Mohinder was just beginning to take notice of.
When Nathan wasn’t wearing a politician’s mask, he seemed to be one of the most emotional guys that Mohinder had ever met. Always worrying, always with thoughts of the future, love for those around him playing a huge part in his life though he’d never let anyone else know that, unless he thoroughly trusted them.
And he trusted Mohinder, something the geneticist was very proud of. He’d gained this stoic man’s confidence and was therefore able to see whom he really was; not having to deal with the fakeness that everyone else was forced through.
Something he was sure only Peter had seen before.
~~~~~~
The first kiss was slow, tentative, and at first, just awkward. Neither had meant for it to happen, they’d just been sitting alone in Nathan’s small office, both with drinks in their hands and talking. Then, their lips had just met. In the matter of a few seconds, they’d managed to destroy the remnants of a growing friendship, instead turning it into a potential relationship.
“I-I’m sorry, Nathan. I hadn’t meant to…”
“Don’t apologize, Mohinder. I kissed you too, you know.”
Mohinder smiled at him, leaning away from him just has quickly as he’d closed in. Nathan just followed him as Mohinder settled into his seat, his lips hardly inches away from Mohinder’s once more. Mohinder looked shocked, thoroughly confused by the man’s reasoning.
“Nathan…”
“I wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t feel something for you. It’s returned, isn’t it? Or have you condemned me to an unrequited love?”
The words ran through Mohinder’s head quickly, his eyes captured by Nathan’s dark ones, a roughness to them that his younger brother’s never held. He didn’t know what to think, he just couldn’t concentrate long enough to even grapple at any solid logic.
When no answer came, a natural frown came to Nathan’s lips, a look everyone in this house had become accustomed to, but just lately Mohinder had forgotten. He pulled away from him, his eyes lowering to the ground for a minute before glancing back at Mohinder.
The scientist stood up and turned away from him, beginning to walk away to go his upstairs bedroom, needing to think. He didn’t give much of an explanation; he didn’t know what he could tell Nathan except for that he wasn’t ready.
“I’m sorry.”
This time, Nathan didn’t tell him not to be.
Once upstairs, Mohinder straightaway took advantage of the fact he was peacefully alone and began to think about what had happened, and what could happen in the future. He knew Nathan was in love with Peter, and it was definitely mutual.
Was he just using him as a replacement in Peter’s absence? He wouldn’t stand for being used again; he wasn’t strong enough for that. But most important of all, if Nathan really did “love” him, did he reciprocate those feelings?
He didn’t know, he couldn’t make sense of his mess of emotions. He’d only truly loved once in his life, and that had been torn apart so quickly it could hardly be considered a few days of his existence. Zane Taylor, or rather, the man he’d been led to believe was Zane Taylor. Not Sylar, no, the two were very different.
Zane had been shy, insecure, helpful and meek. Sylar was violent, fiery, a master of everything around him. He’d been in love with a ghost, a copy of a fake personality, a fictional character.
Nathan was real, he wasn’t going to vanish anytime soon and turn into some sort of nightmarish creature. He had no reason not to let himself fall for the man, even if it was a chance to take, another way to fall even farther than he’d already let himself drift.
Then there was always Sylar. Just the thought of his voice sent tremors through his body, the promises he’d made always clear in his mind. He knew Sylar was around here somewhere, he probably knew just where Mohinder was. He could hardly imagine the anger that would be unleashed on him if Sylar found out he was even contemplating letting Nathan Petrelli take him into his loving arms, if only for one night.
Even if Sylar had perhaps been lying once more about saying Mohinder was his, he was still afraid of him coming back and using that as an extra reason to hurt him, or even Nathan, which he was sure he’d do. But it wasn’t like Sylar wouldn’t hurt either of them if given half a chance.
But why should he live his life in fear of Sylar’s wrath? The man didn’t rule him, that’s not the way it was, not the way it should be. This was his life, he’d do with it what he wanted, not what Sylar wanted him to do.
And who knew, the man had probably just been fucking with his mind even when he’d told him how much he wanted him, how much he needed him. But that phone call, he’d called even after Mohinder had tried to kill him, didn’t that prove something?
Why would he even want that serial killer’s love? He shouldn’t have been making up reasons that Sylar had been telling the truth, he should take what he was given right now, not worrying about the past. While he was in this house, he was safer from the supernatural then he’d ever be, and with Nathan Petrelli, he’d be protected from everything else.
He heard a knock at his door, turning just in time to see Nathan intruding upon his thoughtful silence.
“Before you tell me to go, I just wanted to tell you something before you think too deeply on anything. No, I’m not using you as a replacement for…Him.”
It seemed Nathan had never really accepted what he felt for his brother, though he had known that practically everyone knew and just didn’t say anything about it. After all, wasn’t that the proper thing to do? It was the way every Petrelli was raised, after all, to ignore the facts right in front of their faces unless it was directly their business and if it would affect their careers.
“I do care for you, maybe I went a bit too far saying I loved you, but I wouldn’t doubt it’d grow into that. Peter is gone and he’s probably not coming back. It’s been almost two months and no contact, no sign of him anywhere, I have to move on...”
It was obvious both of them wished what he’d just said weren’t true. Two months had gone by and Peter had not returned, and in this new world of theirs, they both knew what that meant.
“And I want you.”
Mohinder saw no lie in Nathan’s face, he knew the man was speaking from the heart, and Mohinder was the privileged audience. He’d made up his mind, especially after Nathan’s little speech.
He answered with a kiss, this one much more certain and resolute. Nathan returned the kiss, wrapping an arm around Mohinder’s waist to pull him closer. Guiltily, Mohinder realized that he was glad Peter wasn’t there and that he hoped he didn’t return, if only for the sake of the joy he was able to find in the arms of Peter’s ex-lover.
~~~~~~
Fingers traced over his skin, scraping sensitive nerves, waking him up from his pleasant slumber. He let out a soft noise, telling whoever it was that he was happy to be woken this way.
The body was right next to his, naked flesh pushed against his own, soft and taut, and he huddled himself against it automatically. The hands didn’t stop moving and he shivered into the touch, noticing now that he had no blankets on his cold body. He had a feeling that didn’t matter; he’d be warm soon.
The hand traveled to up his chest, to his neck and chin, putting it into a strong yet gentle grasp, pulling his head to the side, closer to the owner of those wonderful, skillful digits. Mohinder finally opened his eyes and found himself gazing straight into dark, almost black pools of swirling power.
It wasn’t Nathan.
Lips collided onto his own; the passion given to him was so vehement, almost desperate in the way it claimed his tender lips, he had no time to think, he could only feel. He’d had this unsurpassed pleasure before, the memory of it was always on his mind, and in seconds, he was giving into Sylar again.
Sylar’s hand journeyed back down towards his stomach, intruding even farther, trailing sharp nails…Mohinder gasped into Sylar’s mouth as the man’s hand hit it’s mark, his hips bucking up towards the delicate grip.
Was this really happening? It all seemed so surreal, so tangible yet dream-like, like the blurry edges of a photograph. It couldn’t be happening, he’d fallen asleep in Nathan Petrelli’s bed, this was just a dream. Not one he wanted to continue.
Sylar wrenched his mouth from Mohinder’s, his hand never wavering so he could watch the emotions that crossed the Indian’s face, who was already gasping, trying to regulate his breathing.
“That’s not true. You want this just as much as I do…”
The first thought that came to Mohinder’s mind was the truth of the words, but then the question of how he’d known what he was thinking reared its ugly head. Parkman?
“It doesn’t take a mind reader to see what you’re thinking about, Mohinder. Every little thing that you feel is portrayed so well through your eyes. That’s why it’s so splendid to watch you in this state of vulnerability.”
Vulnerability…the word hit him like a hammer, that’s what he was. So susceptible to everything around him, always bending to a high power, doing work for other people because the few times he’d tried to do it himself, they’d ended in disaster and homicides.
With Sylar, that weakness was amplified. He seemed to be able to get Mohinder to do anything he wanted, to not fight in the end, always giving him a chance to feel in control before whisking it away just as fast.
No, he couldn’t let it continue, he had to stop this, there had to be a line drawn. He wouldn’t let Sylar cross it any longer.
“No, Sylar, get away from me.”
Mohinder hissed the words out, his voice coming out like acid, and it was obvious by the shocked expression on Sylar’s face that he hadn’t been expecting any kind of fight, verbal or not. He’d planned for acceptance, because that was his power over Mohinder; it was something he prided himself in.
Instead, here Mohinder was, actually fighting, shoving him away with strength Sylar hadn’t considered he possessed.
The world that Mohinder had been tricked into believing was reality slipped away, leaving not only a memory of what had happened, but also the residue of Sylar’s adept hand.
He was trembling, his body glistening with sweat, the blankets slipping off of his body as he sat up slowly. He felt eyes on him, and he turned his head to see exactly whom it was, even if he had a good idea.
“You were saying his name, Mohinder.”
Mohinder didn’t say anything, he just watched the stoic, unchanging expression on Nathan’s face. He didn’t seem to look that hurt, or even surprised, he was just simply stating a fact. Mohinder wondered if it was the politician side of him that was enabling him not to show much emotion to this situation, but part of him was glad for it. He didn’t need to feel worse than he already did.
He climbed off of the bed, silent as he walked in the direction of the bathroom, painfully aware he couldn’t just lay there in bed unfinished, he couldn’t ignore it. He felt arms around his waist, pulling him back. A head snuggled against his, lips at his ear as Nathan tried to ease his lovers soreness.
“It’s okay, Mohinder…we all have succumbed to desires that were wrong to have. All we can do is help each other get as close as we can get to forgetting them. So, let me do what I can.”
Mohinder let himself fall back into Nathan’s arms, a small, indecisive frown on his face. When he didn’t say anything, Nathan chanced putting forth an effort without permission. Mohinder didn’t stop him as Nathan’s hand moved quick, loving, gentle, his knees beginning to quiver.
It didn’t take long and Mohinder soon came in Nathan’s talented hand, a small moan released from his mouth. His body was satisfied, his longing sated for now. Nathan kissed the side of his lips, pulling him again to the bed so they could fall once again asleep in each other’s arms.
Nathan accepted what he’d dreamt about, what he’d done; this was more than he ever could have asked for, so why wasn’t he happy?
~~~~~~
Both Mohinder and Nathan were used to seeing each other every morning, then working on their own separate business during the day, and returning to the same room at night. It had become almost a second nature to them, even if it had only been three weeks since they’d decided to try being together.
And it wasn’t just at the house, Nathan took him out on actual dates, making sure they went to restaurants were paparazzi wouldn’t follow, or if they did it would just seem like an innocent dinner between two friends.
Nathan was an ideal boyfriend once one got through the tough exterior. He was loving and he simply lavished Mohinder with expensive gifts and anything else he thought the man might crave.
Everything was going perfect and, as was the norm for Mohinder’s life, an event upended it all. He and Nathan were spending time in the family room, Claire actually with them for once, sitting on the opposite couch. Nathan and Mohinder were sitting next to each other, Nathan’s arm possessively around him as Claire chatted with them about her school life.
The door opened, all of them turning to look but not expecting it to be anyone special, just Angela arriving back home from a outing she’d went out on a few hours before. Instead, Peter stepped into the room before them.
He wore a dark, long sleeved shirt and jeans, his hair short and slicked back like it had after he’d lost that special bang of his. There was a huge smile on his face, glancing at Claire, but when his eyes went to Nathan and Mohinder, the smile disappeared, replaced with a disconcerting frown.
Mohinder glanced at Nathan before quickly standing up, Nathan following. Claire didn’t say anything, she could see the animosity that was growing between the three.
“Peter.”
Nathan was the first to speak, the happiness in his voice was not easily hidden as he moved past Mohinder and went to embrace his brother. When he did, a smile stole at Peter’s lips, but once his chin was on Nathan’s shoulder, the frown returned and was sent directly at Mohinder, complete with a burning glare.
Force Of My Love 2/3
Author:
yaoi_anti_drugBeta:
ladywilde80 You are amazing!Pairings: Sylar/Mohinder, Nathan/Mohinder, hints of Petrellicest
Genre: drama
Characters: Sylar, Mohinder, Nathan, Peter, Claire, Bennet, Parkman, Angela, Niki, Micah
Rating: R
Summary: AU, Mohinder goes to live with Petrelli's and as we all know, they are great with creating drama...
Word Count: about 5,470
Spoilers: By this time, you should have watched Season 1!
Warnings: Violence, mentions of non-con and sex, and character death.
Notes: Thank you to
ladywilde80 and Matt for helping me with this! Especially you, ladywilde! Constructive criticism is, as always, craved! Comments, even if it’s to say you hate it, are always appreciated too. Also: Title came from "Sea Lion" by Sage FrancisDisclaimer: Obviously, I don't own Heroes or any character in the show. Just written for enjoyment.
Force Of My Love
“Someone’s following me.”
“Mohinder, don’t be ridiculous! No one is following you.”
“Peter, please listen to me. I think it’s Sylar.”
“Don’t you dare say that name again. Sylar is dead, Mohinder. Dead. You seem to be the only one who can’t accept that!”
Mohinder didn’t know what to do now. He’d already contacted anyone that was competent enough to help him. That is, anyone he could get a hold of. Bennet was no where to be found and the only people he could ask to assist him in finding the capable man currently thought he was simply paranoid.
Everyone wanted to think Sylar was dead so they could go on with their merry, uncomplicated lives. Mohinder wished he could do the same, but he couldn’t ignore the cold, hard facts. Sylar was alive and he was watching him. Four months after the explosion and Sylar was still haunting him.
~~~~~~
Mohinder first started feeling apprehensive when he went to his first day teaching at New York University. It wasn’t because he was worried he’d do badly or that the students would give him a hard time, but because right when he entered the college, he felt burning eyes bearing into his soul.
He’d only known of one other person whose very glance could set every nerve in his body aflame.
He’d tried not to make it obvious that he comprehended what was going on, he had to act normal and ignorant. But he knew his heart gave him away, it was pounding so hard he swore he might just have a heart attack on the spot.
As quickly as the feelings had come, they vanished and Mohinder was left standing in the sea of giggling, stressed out students. Left dazed and confused, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
Surely, it had been Sylar, but that monster had supposedly been killed at Kirby Plaza. There was no way he could have lived, he’d lost too much blood, and Bennet had assured everyone that Sylar would no longer terrorize anyone.
Bennet had been wrong, or he’d lied purposefully, which seemed more like something he’d do. Just to calm their nerves and aid them in going forth into new lives with no fear of suddenly having their heads sliced open one evening.
Mohinder had never had to worry about Sylar killing him in that way, after all, that was a quicker death then any Sylar would have planned for him. He’d seen through his lies, albeit a little too late, but even so, he’d caught Sylar unaware and had been able to capture him, keep him weak for longer than Sylar probably ever thought he would.
He’d proved that Sylar still wasn’t all-powerful, that he had weaknesses like any other human being, and the man hadn’t appreciated it. That was obvious by what he’d done to him after he got free.
His body had been covered in bruises and cuts, most of them able to be covered by clothing, while others went much deeper. The cruel way he’d constantly reminded him that, to his father, he’d never even been second best, that had been Sylar’s place, those would never be erased.
That hadn’t even been the end of the torment Mohinder had suffered. Even after the words, the beatings, Sylar hadn’t been close to being finished with him. Exchanging his cold exterior and violent hand for frightfully fierce passion he’d done more than take pleasure from his panic and humiliation, but he gave it to Mohinder, savoring every drawn out moment.
Sylar had whispered in Mohinder’s ear as he took everything from him, branding him with touches and traces that he would hide but be fully aware of all of his life.
“You’re mine. Ever since I first saw you through that door, do you understand? I own you.”
In a reply, Mohinder had just let out a stifled moan, the agony he was feeling intertwined with the mindless gratification Sylar was forcing him to experience.
Who knew what else Sylar’s morbid, twisted mind would have thought up to do to him if he hadn’t heard Peter Petrelli’s footsteps, flinging him to the ceiling, giving Peter an idea what Sylar was planning on doing to him.
The memories from that night always troubled Mohinder and kept his mind reeling with questions. Soon after, he’d begun to wonder just how long Sylar had been “offering” him his life, just how long he’d had domination over the situation but had let Mohinder feel falsely safe.
Maybe right from the beginning, maybe the curare hadn’t really affected him but that couldn’t be true. Sylar wouldn’t have let Mohinder give him a spinal tap, all of that pain, just to give him a chance to regret what he was doing and set him loose. He wanted to know so badly it almost hurt. Just how long had Sylar allowed Mohinder to hurt him and take away some of his pride and newly found security? And why?
Also, what had Sylar truly meant by his seemingly jealous promise, that Mohinder was his only. Was he just trying to scare him, keep him up at night, and ruin any future he could have with anyone just for the fun of it? Or was he only able to show that he truly cared about him through possession and torture?
Mohinder had tried abandoning these questions; they’d never be answered, but found himself unable to do so. He just shoved them to the back of his mind and tried not to think about it as much as possible, and failing miserably in the process.
~~~~~~
After a while, Mohinder really began to believe he was paranoid. Everywhere he went, he felt like he could see Sylar, feel his presence so close to him, it was driving him insane. It disrupted his daily life; the pin pricks on the back of his neck an every day occurrence.
As perturbing as the thought of Sylar watching him was, it was even more so upsetting to think what he could do to those around him without anyone there to keep him in check. He was a mad man, after all.
It also caused the creation of even more questions to plague his mind, the biggest being why. Why was Sylar following him, what was the point of this?
If he wanted the list, Mohinder wouldn’t give it to him. He didn’t even have it anymore; he wasn’t working on it. Bennet had tried to persuade him to finish it but he refused to even chance it getting into the wrong hands, those hands being anyone other than himself.
Was Sylar just having fun messing with his mind? Didn’t he have better things to do; maybe killing anyone who he thought was unworthy of his or her gifts? Not that he wanted him to continue that old routine, but it just seemed like Sylar was wasting time that he was fortunate to even have.
How had he survived in the first place? Mohinder supposed that was a stupid question; after all, it was Sylar he was talking about. A mere sword wouldn’t have ended that man’s life.
~~~~~~
Mohinder was more curious of Sylar’s motives than afraid. After all of the times he’d known Sylar was close to him, the man never once showed his face or any evidence that he was there, just Mohinder’s own intuition.
The dread commenced when he was woken up one morning by the boiling of a kettle on the stove, going into the small kitchen in his apartment, rubbing his eyes and groggy, woken up right away by the mundane scene in front of his eyes.
Sitting on the counter were two mugs he used for tea, one of them steaming, obviously filled with tea, the other unusually cold and empty. The symbolism was impossible to miss and immediately, Mohinder backed up, his hand grasping a chair as if to hold him up, eyes wide and staring at those two mugs.
Unable to resist, he glanced around the room a couple times, seeing no one and nothing out of the ordinary. More than unsettled, he pushed himself forward and shut the stove off, removing the kettle to stop the sound that was drilling enough to give him a headache.
Sylar had been in his apartment, that much he knew, and not too long ago. Was he still here? Was he watching him with baited breath, waiting to pounce and rip him and his life apart again?
He felt a shiver of terror drip down his spine, attempting to not to let it cloud his mind. He currently didn’t feel any eyes on him, but what he’d found was disturbing enough that he didn’t need to feel anybody watching him, he knew he was.
~~~~~~
Finally, Sylar struck, letting any indication of him being dead disappear into an abyss of old lies. Niki Sanders and Micah were both dead, found with the top of their heads cut open and their brains removed, a message that clearly stated this was just beginning. They believed him now.
No one understood why Sylar had first let himself be known to Mohinder, even if he’d never actually seen his face. They did know that he was important enough to be just as in danger as those with powers. He was the only one who really understood what was going on in this world, the evolution that was taking control.
Not only that, but Bennet still had some hope that Mohinder would start creating the list again, they needed it so they could defend people from threats, now more than ever. Sylar was alive and killing again.
Bennet had known the entire time that Sylar was still alive, he, like Mohinder had assumed, just didn’t want to frighten anyone more than needed. He’d obviously made a mistake in doing so, everyone should have been informed as to protect themselves and now because of his error, Niki Sanders and her son were dead.
In order to try and regain himself, Bennet talked Angela Petrelli into allowing Mohinder and Claire to stay in the Petrelli mansion, using the presence of their influential family for safety, most of all Peter who was, though he still hadn’t learned much control, the most powerful of any of them.
Bennet and Parkman would be trying to track Sylar down and kill him, end this once and for all. Claire was not happy about this arrangement, she argued with both of her fathers for quite some time. She wanted to go with Bennet, she couldn’t die, and she could help them. She did have a point, even Mohinder saw that, but it would be dangerous.
Bennet and Nathan would have none of it; they both cared too much for her to chance losing her. Defeated, Claire let Bennet and Parkman leave without her, but she sure as hell made sure to raise a ruckus at her new home, forever worried about the two and displaying it by constantly mentioning how she could have helped to protect them.
Before they left, Bennet spoke to Mohinder once again to try and convince him he should work on completing his father’s list. He’d have all of the money he needed, all the equipment, and they needed that list if they were going to stop Sylar, they had to save the people on it.
Mohinder didn’t agree, they had Peter to track the people down, one of Mohinder’s strongest contention, even if the man wasn’t as good as Molly would have been, but they no longer had access to her ability.
Molly had died almost three weeks after the explosion, not enough time for Peter to gain her power. Mohinder didn’t let himself dwindle on those memories as much as he was able; it had been his fault she died.
He’d left away for a few hours, just to go and get groceries, leaving Molly unattended. He’d gotten waylaid and when he finally returned, he found she’d relapsed and was dying. He tried to transfuse their blood, something that had worked so many times before, but it failed.
She had just continued to deteriorate, getting paler by the second, the light in her usually energetic eyes fading quickly. Calling the hospital hadn’t succeeded in anything; she still died, all because of his lack of attention.
Even without Molly’s power available for them to use, Peter was still a precog; all he had to do was paint who Sylar was going after next. But even Peter’s ability wasn’t enough, Bennet guaranteed Mohinder that without a name to attach to a face, the painting would be useless.
Hesitantly, Mohinder agreed to continue his research while he was living with the Petrelli’s, on only one condition. He still wanted to continue his teaching; he’d missed it since coming to America.
Of course, Bennet said yes to his request since it was the only way he was going to get Mohinder to finish the list for him.
~~~~~~
Mohinder heard shouting from across the hall, going to investigate only to find the two Petrelli brothers in a heated argument. Nathan looked grave, Peter was just livid.
“I have to go and find them, Nathan! I can’t just sit here, knowing what could happen, and yet not do anything about it.”
“It’s not your job, Peter. Your job is to stay here and defend the rest of us, isn’t that important enough for you?”
“You can defend yourself and so can everyone else...”
Peter’s resolution seemed to falter here and Mohinder began to back up, not wanting to get involved in one of these quarrels, he learned almost instantly to let these two sort things like this out with each other.
“You know we can’t, Pete. Claire, she has a effective power, but nothing would stop Sylar from killing her. Mohinder has no power to speak of and is, perhaps, the one who is most in danger from Sylar, you know better than anyone the vendetta Sylar has against him. And me…What can I do to protect myself? Fly?”
He laughed bitterly,
“Sylar would kill me in a second.”
Mohinder found he felt extremely uncomfortable being brought into one of the brother’s small fights, especially the way Nathan spoke of him. As if he were a child in need of guarding twenty-four seven, even if there was some truth to what he said.
“I just want to…”
“You want to save everyone, I know, but you just can’t. Stop trying to be such a hero, you can’t do it all.”
Peter looked so forlorn and lost, more like a puppy than ever before and Mohinder knew that was a difficult task for the younger brother. Mohinder finally turned and left as Nathan embraced his brother in a tight hug that Mohinder, as well as anyone else who cared to look, was deeper than society should have let it be.
~~~~~~
Peter was gone the next day. No one knew where he’d went off to, though everyone turned to Nathan as if he were the one who’d have the information. He didn’t have it, instead he was uncharacteristically the most distressed out of all them. He confided in Mohinder his concern when he had no one else to turn to.
“Mohinder, he wanted to go and find Sylar himself, I told him it was more important to stay here, and he went anyways. Oh god, what if I’m never going to see him again? What if he’s going to die?”
Mohinder hardly knew how to comfort the man who had once pretended he was a lunatic; it seemed way out of his league, but he wouldn’t abandon his newfound friend.
“He’ll come back, Nathan. I’m sure he will, and he’ll be in one piece.”
His voice seemed to display that he had complete faith in his words because Nathan smiled at him and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently as if to say he’d really relieved him of some tension.
Too bad he didn’t fully believe what he said to Nathan. If Peter did find Sylar, he was sure that he would put an end to Peter’s life. If that did happen, Nathan would probably never see his brother again.
~~~~~~
Without Peter around, the only person Nathan had to keep himself together was Mohinder. His wife had finally left him, accepting that she’d never be number one in Nathan’s heart, that place belonged to someone else.
In order to keep them unharmed, Heidi also took her and Nathan’s kids with her. Nathan did miss them, but he knew it had been for the best, he could never give them the full attention they deserved. He just wasn’t father material, even if he did love them.
That went for his newly discovered daughter as well. He tried to be good to Claire, but she turned him away, she hated him. She blamed him for a lot that had happened, including Peter’s explosion that had cost them a month of thinking that they both were dead, a month that just drove father and daughter farther apart.
Claire didn’t seem to want to get close to Nathan, like she was afraid of him turning on her, using her for personal gain, which would seem understandable to anyone who didn’t know Nathan.
The only thing that mattered in Claire’s life was the safety of her adopted father and Peter. It was so much like a teenager; Mohinder knew it was just a phase. She would come to care for her biological father. Nathan wasn’t a horrible person, he was very admirable, which was something Mohinder was just beginning to take notice of.
When Nathan wasn’t wearing a politician’s mask, he seemed to be one of the most emotional guys that Mohinder had ever met. Always worrying, always with thoughts of the future, love for those around him playing a huge part in his life though he’d never let anyone else know that, unless he thoroughly trusted them.
And he trusted Mohinder, something the geneticist was very proud of. He’d gained this stoic man’s confidence and was therefore able to see whom he really was; not having to deal with the fakeness that everyone else was forced through.
Something he was sure only Peter had seen before.
~~~~~~
The first kiss was slow, tentative, and at first, just awkward. Neither had meant for it to happen, they’d just been sitting alone in Nathan’s small office, both with drinks in their hands and talking. Then, their lips had just met. In the matter of a few seconds, they’d managed to destroy the remnants of a growing friendship, instead turning it into a potential relationship.
“I-I’m sorry, Nathan. I hadn’t meant to…”
“Don’t apologize, Mohinder. I kissed you too, you know.”
Mohinder smiled at him, leaning away from him just has quickly as he’d closed in. Nathan just followed him as Mohinder settled into his seat, his lips hardly inches away from Mohinder’s once more. Mohinder looked shocked, thoroughly confused by the man’s reasoning.
“Nathan…”
“I wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t feel something for you. It’s returned, isn’t it? Or have you condemned me to an unrequited love?”
The words ran through Mohinder’s head quickly, his eyes captured by Nathan’s dark ones, a roughness to them that his younger brother’s never held. He didn’t know what to think, he just couldn’t concentrate long enough to even grapple at any solid logic.
When no answer came, a natural frown came to Nathan’s lips, a look everyone in this house had become accustomed to, but just lately Mohinder had forgotten. He pulled away from him, his eyes lowering to the ground for a minute before glancing back at Mohinder.
The scientist stood up and turned away from him, beginning to walk away to go his upstairs bedroom, needing to think. He didn’t give much of an explanation; he didn’t know what he could tell Nathan except for that he wasn’t ready.
“I’m sorry.”
This time, Nathan didn’t tell him not to be.
Once upstairs, Mohinder straightaway took advantage of the fact he was peacefully alone and began to think about what had happened, and what could happen in the future. He knew Nathan was in love with Peter, and it was definitely mutual.
Was he just using him as a replacement in Peter’s absence? He wouldn’t stand for being used again; he wasn’t strong enough for that. But most important of all, if Nathan really did “love” him, did he reciprocate those feelings?
He didn’t know, he couldn’t make sense of his mess of emotions. He’d only truly loved once in his life, and that had been torn apart so quickly it could hardly be considered a few days of his existence. Zane Taylor, or rather, the man he’d been led to believe was Zane Taylor. Not Sylar, no, the two were very different.
Zane had been shy, insecure, helpful and meek. Sylar was violent, fiery, a master of everything around him. He’d been in love with a ghost, a copy of a fake personality, a fictional character.
Nathan was real, he wasn’t going to vanish anytime soon and turn into some sort of nightmarish creature. He had no reason not to let himself fall for the man, even if it was a chance to take, another way to fall even farther than he’d already let himself drift.
Then there was always Sylar. Just the thought of his voice sent tremors through his body, the promises he’d made always clear in his mind. He knew Sylar was around here somewhere, he probably knew just where Mohinder was. He could hardly imagine the anger that would be unleashed on him if Sylar found out he was even contemplating letting Nathan Petrelli take him into his loving arms, if only for one night.
Even if Sylar had perhaps been lying once more about saying Mohinder was his, he was still afraid of him coming back and using that as an extra reason to hurt him, or even Nathan, which he was sure he’d do. But it wasn’t like Sylar wouldn’t hurt either of them if given half a chance.
But why should he live his life in fear of Sylar’s wrath? The man didn’t rule him, that’s not the way it was, not the way it should be. This was his life, he’d do with it what he wanted, not what Sylar wanted him to do.
And who knew, the man had probably just been fucking with his mind even when he’d told him how much he wanted him, how much he needed him. But that phone call, he’d called even after Mohinder had tried to kill him, didn’t that prove something?
Why would he even want that serial killer’s love? He shouldn’t have been making up reasons that Sylar had been telling the truth, he should take what he was given right now, not worrying about the past. While he was in this house, he was safer from the supernatural then he’d ever be, and with Nathan Petrelli, he’d be protected from everything else.
He heard a knock at his door, turning just in time to see Nathan intruding upon his thoughtful silence.
“Before you tell me to go, I just wanted to tell you something before you think too deeply on anything. No, I’m not using you as a replacement for…Him.”
It seemed Nathan had never really accepted what he felt for his brother, though he had known that practically everyone knew and just didn’t say anything about it. After all, wasn’t that the proper thing to do? It was the way every Petrelli was raised, after all, to ignore the facts right in front of their faces unless it was directly their business and if it would affect their careers.
“I do care for you, maybe I went a bit too far saying I loved you, but I wouldn’t doubt it’d grow into that. Peter is gone and he’s probably not coming back. It’s been almost two months and no contact, no sign of him anywhere, I have to move on...”
It was obvious both of them wished what he’d just said weren’t true. Two months had gone by and Peter had not returned, and in this new world of theirs, they both knew what that meant.
“And I want you.”
Mohinder saw no lie in Nathan’s face, he knew the man was speaking from the heart, and Mohinder was the privileged audience. He’d made up his mind, especially after Nathan’s little speech.
He answered with a kiss, this one much more certain and resolute. Nathan returned the kiss, wrapping an arm around Mohinder’s waist to pull him closer. Guiltily, Mohinder realized that he was glad Peter wasn’t there and that he hoped he didn’t return, if only for the sake of the joy he was able to find in the arms of Peter’s ex-lover.
~~~~~~
Fingers traced over his skin, scraping sensitive nerves, waking him up from his pleasant slumber. He let out a soft noise, telling whoever it was that he was happy to be woken this way.
The body was right next to his, naked flesh pushed against his own, soft and taut, and he huddled himself against it automatically. The hands didn’t stop moving and he shivered into the touch, noticing now that he had no blankets on his cold body. He had a feeling that didn’t matter; he’d be warm soon.
The hand traveled to up his chest, to his neck and chin, putting it into a strong yet gentle grasp, pulling his head to the side, closer to the owner of those wonderful, skillful digits. Mohinder finally opened his eyes and found himself gazing straight into dark, almost black pools of swirling power.
It wasn’t Nathan.
Lips collided onto his own; the passion given to him was so vehement, almost desperate in the way it claimed his tender lips, he had no time to think, he could only feel. He’d had this unsurpassed pleasure before, the memory of it was always on his mind, and in seconds, he was giving into Sylar again.
Sylar’s hand journeyed back down towards his stomach, intruding even farther, trailing sharp nails…Mohinder gasped into Sylar’s mouth as the man’s hand hit it’s mark, his hips bucking up towards the delicate grip.
Was this really happening? It all seemed so surreal, so tangible yet dream-like, like the blurry edges of a photograph. It couldn’t be happening, he’d fallen asleep in Nathan Petrelli’s bed, this was just a dream. Not one he wanted to continue.
Sylar wrenched his mouth from Mohinder’s, his hand never wavering so he could watch the emotions that crossed the Indian’s face, who was already gasping, trying to regulate his breathing.
“That’s not true. You want this just as much as I do…”
The first thought that came to Mohinder’s mind was the truth of the words, but then the question of how he’d known what he was thinking reared its ugly head. Parkman?
“It doesn’t take a mind reader to see what you’re thinking about, Mohinder. Every little thing that you feel is portrayed so well through your eyes. That’s why it’s so splendid to watch you in this state of vulnerability.”
Vulnerability…the word hit him like a hammer, that’s what he was. So susceptible to everything around him, always bending to a high power, doing work for other people because the few times he’d tried to do it himself, they’d ended in disaster and homicides.
With Sylar, that weakness was amplified. He seemed to be able to get Mohinder to do anything he wanted, to not fight in the end, always giving him a chance to feel in control before whisking it away just as fast.
No, he couldn’t let it continue, he had to stop this, there had to be a line drawn. He wouldn’t let Sylar cross it any longer.
“No, Sylar, get away from me.”
Mohinder hissed the words out, his voice coming out like acid, and it was obvious by the shocked expression on Sylar’s face that he hadn’t been expecting any kind of fight, verbal or not. He’d planned for acceptance, because that was his power over Mohinder; it was something he prided himself in.
Instead, here Mohinder was, actually fighting, shoving him away with strength Sylar hadn’t considered he possessed.
The world that Mohinder had been tricked into believing was reality slipped away, leaving not only a memory of what had happened, but also the residue of Sylar’s adept hand.
He was trembling, his body glistening with sweat, the blankets slipping off of his body as he sat up slowly. He felt eyes on him, and he turned his head to see exactly whom it was, even if he had a good idea.
“You were saying his name, Mohinder.”
Mohinder didn’t say anything, he just watched the stoic, unchanging expression on Nathan’s face. He didn’t seem to look that hurt, or even surprised, he was just simply stating a fact. Mohinder wondered if it was the politician side of him that was enabling him not to show much emotion to this situation, but part of him was glad for it. He didn’t need to feel worse than he already did.
He climbed off of the bed, silent as he walked in the direction of the bathroom, painfully aware he couldn’t just lay there in bed unfinished, he couldn’t ignore it. He felt arms around his waist, pulling him back. A head snuggled against his, lips at his ear as Nathan tried to ease his lovers soreness.
“It’s okay, Mohinder…we all have succumbed to desires that were wrong to have. All we can do is help each other get as close as we can get to forgetting them. So, let me do what I can.”
Mohinder let himself fall back into Nathan’s arms, a small, indecisive frown on his face. When he didn’t say anything, Nathan chanced putting forth an effort without permission. Mohinder didn’t stop him as Nathan’s hand moved quick, loving, gentle, his knees beginning to quiver.
It didn’t take long and Mohinder soon came in Nathan’s talented hand, a small moan released from his mouth. His body was satisfied, his longing sated for now. Nathan kissed the side of his lips, pulling him again to the bed so they could fall once again asleep in each other’s arms.
Nathan accepted what he’d dreamt about, what he’d done; this was more than he ever could have asked for, so why wasn’t he happy?
~~~~~~
Both Mohinder and Nathan were used to seeing each other every morning, then working on their own separate business during the day, and returning to the same room at night. It had become almost a second nature to them, even if it had only been three weeks since they’d decided to try being together.
And it wasn’t just at the house, Nathan took him out on actual dates, making sure they went to restaurants were paparazzi wouldn’t follow, or if they did it would just seem like an innocent dinner between two friends.
Nathan was an ideal boyfriend once one got through the tough exterior. He was loving and he simply lavished Mohinder with expensive gifts and anything else he thought the man might crave.
Everything was going perfect and, as was the norm for Mohinder’s life, an event upended it all. He and Nathan were spending time in the family room, Claire actually with them for once, sitting on the opposite couch. Nathan and Mohinder were sitting next to each other, Nathan’s arm possessively around him as Claire chatted with them about her school life.
The door opened, all of them turning to look but not expecting it to be anyone special, just Angela arriving back home from a outing she’d went out on a few hours before. Instead, Peter stepped into the room before them.
He wore a dark, long sleeved shirt and jeans, his hair short and slicked back like it had after he’d lost that special bang of his. There was a huge smile on his face, glancing at Claire, but when his eyes went to Nathan and Mohinder, the smile disappeared, replaced with a disconcerting frown.
Mohinder glanced at Nathan before quickly standing up, Nathan following. Claire didn’t say anything, she could see the animosity that was growing between the three.
“Peter.”
Nathan was the first to speak, the happiness in his voice was not easily hidden as he moved past Mohinder and went to embrace his brother. When he did, a smile stole at Peter’s lips, but once his chin was on Nathan’s shoulder, the frown returned and was sent directly at Mohinder, complete with a burning glare.
Force Of My Love 2/3
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