from baileigh

You Are an Ocean

You are impressive and fascinating. People are drawn to your glory. You are a profound and passionate person. You are boundless in your power. You have a philosophical and poetic soul. You take a lot of time to reflect You are mysterious and captivating. You are too deep for anyone to figure out.

What Body of Water Are You?

I'd say that's pretty accurate.

for mad_muses: the nightmares I can handle, it's reality that's the problem

He pushes him into the wall. It's practiced, almost gentle but not quite, and certainly more than just a simple nudge, then he's pressing against him, chest to chest. His lips are on his a moment later, possessive, and Mohinder responds in kind, kissing him back, his fingers fisting in his shirt, briefly, before he's groping for the hem of it. He lets the Indian get his hands under cloth and onto skin, moaning against his mouth at the touch, before returning the favor, his own hand burying in Suersh's curls.

On a whim, a moment later, he's turning them, his other arm draped around Mohinder's waist for support as he guides him back towards their room. He wants him now, heat rising in his stomach with every light press of the other man's fingers at his side, but he's not stupid. There's a ten year old--nine? eleven? he's never stopped to ask Molly how old she is--lurking somewhere, and he doesn't want her walking into the living room to find them like this. He and Mohinder aren't exactly trying to keep their relationship hidden, but he still feels that's a little much. And judging by the soft, approving noise the geneticist makes, he figures the feeling is mutual.

A smirk of a smile tugs at the corners of his lips, and he breaks the kiss long enough to push Mohinder down on the bed, before he's joining him, a knee between his legs, dangerously close to his groin. Suresh arches up from the bed and into his knee with a groan before sinking back down, hands at his hips now to pull him down. Closer. Again, he's leaning into him so that their chest's come together, enjoying the feel of Mohinder's heart beating in time with his, and then he rolls away onto his side.

Mohinder turns sideways, too, eyes fixed on him in confusion for a moment, and he opens his mouth to voice a protest, but he never gets that far. Mostly because suddenly, Sylar darts in to brush his lips over the hollow below his ear, and his words evaporate into something near a whimper. He can't help but smile lazily against his skin; he loves the power he has over Suresh more than anything else.

That in mind, he captures the other man's earlobe between his teeth, lightly, before wrapping his mouth around skin. Another soft noise from Mohinder, another pleased look from him on his behalf, and he puts a hand to his chest, tracing his fingers down over his stomach. Funny, he thinks, he doesn't recall the Indian being quite so built, but he doesn't let it stop him, kneading lightly at muscle he doesn't remember, before letting his hand come to rest at his hip.

He murmurs something wordless into his ear, and the other man shudders, then reaches for the waist of his jeans, but he's not about to let Suresh have the power here. He can't, for some reason that won't come to him--it's getting to be a common occurrence over the course of the last few days, but he's living with it--and so he nips at Mohinder's ear again, half warning and half teasing. While it's enough to trap Mohinder's breath and his at the back of their throats for an instant, however, it doesn't stop him from working at his pants.

( Or, more accurately, practically tearing them open, the denim of his jeans protesting Mohinder's sudden violence. )

Muse: Gabriel Gray (Sylar)
Fandom: Heroes
Word Count: 1015
Notes: Mohinder is witnessof_fate and is used with permission.