Red Handed

[flying_monkees]

Title: Red Handed
Author:
Characters: Mylar
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Some swearing
Word Count:  573
Disclaimer: Heroes does not belong to me no matter how much I wish it did.
Summary: Mohinder comes home and catches Sylar red handed
Table/Prompt:  Written for mission_insane's AU/What if... and piping_hot's Sketchy Mylar Challenge It's not what it looks like!
A/N:  I'm on the home stretch for finishing piping_hot's table!  I've only got two more prompts after this and one of the fics is already written!  I hope everyone enjoys this one.  Beta'd by bothflwrpwr_vampyre and pyjamagurl 

Sylar looked up, startled, as Mohinder came into the apartment.  Turning towards Mohinder he smiled happily, quickly putting his hands behind his back to hide them. “You’re home early.”

 

Mohinder frowned.  “What have you been doing Sylar?” he asked in a low voice, staring at the taller man as he tried to keep his arms hidden.  “I thought we’d gotten past this.”  Dark brown eyes narrowed at Sylar as the man fidgeted.

 

“We did Mohinder.  I swear, I haven’t done anything-“

 

“Bullshit!  I caught you red handed!” Mohinder snarled, moving quickly and yanking one of Sylar’s hands from behind his back. 

 

Sylar growled, pulling his arm back.  “It’s not what it looks like!  We made a deal Mohinder, why would I go back on it now when everything’s been going so good?”

 

Mohinder looked accusingly at the red color that stained Sylar’s arms, shaking his head.  “Because apparently you can’t control yourself.  I knew this was a bad idea, a part of me knew this couldn’t work.  But I went against my instinct, believed you,” he stepped closer to Sylar, getting in his face.  “To think of how much I defended you against the others.  They all said I was a fool to believe you.  I guess they were right all along.”

 

Sylar’s face turned redder as he struggled to control his temper.  “Mohinder, if you’d just let me explain-” he ground out between clenched teeth.

 

“There’s nothing to explain.  I’m going into the bedroom to change.  When I come back out, I want you gone,” Mohinder turned on his heel and stormed to his room.  How could Sylar have betrayed his trust like that?  He’d gone out and killed and had had the nerve to… he stopped, staring at the bedroom.

 

The walls glistened with fresh paint.  Warm reds and yellows covered the walls and were artfully done to look like a sunset.  The furniture had been rearranged to increase what space was available.  New sheets and a bright orange comforter had replaced the worn out whites that had been there before.  Candles were lit, cutting the paint smell and filling the room with the scent of lilacs.  Mohinder’s jaw dropped and he turned back to Sylar, trying to find the words to apologize.

 

“You had kept going on about how much you hated the room, how you missed the sunsets in India.  I thought…I thought I’d help you feel better.  I’m sorry you don’t like it,” Sylar turned back to the sink; his shoulders slumped, trying to wash the paint off his hands and arms.  “I’ll leave as soon as I get cleaned up.”  He was suddenly spun around and shoved against the counter.

 

“I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have accused you.  I love it Sylar.  It’s the most wonderful thing you could’ve ever done for me.  I’m sorry that I was so untrusting as to think you would break your promise,” he pulled Sylar down for a hard kiss, pressing against him.  “After dinner, we’re going to christen the bedroom, okay?” 

 

Sylar let out a held breath, smiling down at Mohinder.  “I’m just glad you like it,” he wrapped his arms around Mohinder and pulled him in close.  “Maybe next time you’ll believe me.”  He closed his eyes.  He would never do anything to jeopardize this; he only wished Mohinder didn’t still doubt him.  But he would keep trying.  Eventually he would convince everyone that he was a better man now.