"...Might actually do some good before you die..."

The smirk on his face disappeared as quickly as it came as Sylar stepped toward his traitorous former comrade, Mohinder. Glittering dark orbs lit up a pale drawn face as the man before him gulped and trembled.

"Starting with that list..."

If there was going to be a time to act at all, Mohinder decided it had to be this. His lower back met the edge of his desk and nimble caramel fingers wrapped around the neck of one of his father's antique lamps. A twitch of Mohinder's shoulder, apparent even under his western style shirt, was all it took to give his plan away. Before he could even come close to connecting glass with skin, Sylar flicked his fingers and the lamp went flying down to the floor. Light flickered from the bulb as the twisted remains of the lamp rested in a heap on the rug.

However, Mohinder couldn't just stop and let the man slaughter him without a fight so as soon as Sylar's attention was on that flickering bulb, he struck. His hands pushed hard against Sylar's black t-shirt and the man was somewhat taken aback as he stumbled. Mohinder broke into a run across his own living room.

The sound of desperate panting mingled with a low, dark chuckle.

"Oh Mohinder...that wasn't very nice. If you're not going to play fair..."

He swung his hand around to line up with Mohinder's back. Fully extended until he jerked his arm back, eyes narrowed. Before Mohinder could even realize it, his face met the floor. Lips split as they burst against the hard wood floor. Blood trickled down as he groaned, his eyes winced shut while he rolled onto his back. When he opened his eyes again, the man...his father's murderer stood looming over him. That smug smirk back on his face as he knelt and motioned his hand; Mohinder found himself on his knees at Sylar's feet. A hand wrapped itself in those dark, tempting curls and tugged him up so that their faces were mere centimeters apart. Teeth visible past thin lips as he whispered out in a hissing tone.

"...then neither will I."

Flickers of light lit up Mohinder's terrified face as Sylar moved his free hand to his jeans. Denim rubbed up against his skin as he slid to the cold button, opening it as he smiled down at the perfectly immobile man below him.

"See, Mohinder when you and I were freezing together outside of that motel in Montana...I could definitely feel something. An innate connection that I had never really had before in my life, with anyone. It was clear to me that you felt it too. I know you felt it too Mohinder. But..."

Sylar sighed and moved his hand down his zipper, a new segment of metal track unlocked with each second of his extended exhale. Mohinder interrupted as his eyes stared at Sylar's now open front of his jeans.

"But I found out the truth, is that what you were saying? That you brutally murdered my father, that you perverted his research for your own sick quest for power? I never felt anything for you. You were mistaken, at best you were just a voice in the car that didn't belong to the radio. Don't delude yourself into think--"

Before his thought could be fully expressed a harsh pale blur went across his eye-line and instantly the rich nauseating taste of blood filled Mohinder's mouth. A coppery sting that could almost be mistaken for tasting sweet the longer it rested on the tongue. He would have knelt forward but that was an impossibility with the invisible hand clenching at his body, keeping him still. Crimson spat out of already darkened, bruised lips.

"I don't appreciate you lying to me Mohinder. That Dale woman was right, I can hear the tiniest changes in a mood. And you? The way your heart is beating right now is such a wonderful concoction of fear...awe...and..."

He leaned in again, this time his lips at Mohinder's ear as he whispered in the last word.

"...lust."

Sylar let his lips brush across Mohinder's earlobe as he pulled his head back away again. His eyes glanced behind him to the desk. Oh the list...it was so close to him now. But first, he had to attend the man at his feet. With his free hand, the other still wrapped tightly in those lush curls, Sylar reached down and tugged his jeans and boxers down his legs some.

A stunned gasp escaped those bruised lips as Mohinder renewed any and all attempts to struggle. All he could do was stare in shock at the sight of Sylar's erection right in front of his face. Smooth, pinkish skin that had an unearthly look to it in the shadows of the room, the light had stopped flickering a moment ago. His inquisitive eyes couldn't stop themselves from roaming over his shaft and to the dark patch of thick curly hair nestled at the bottom of the path of hairs 

trailing down his stomach. After his gaze lingered down there, perhaps a little too long, his brown eyes met Sylar's own.

"Y-you...cannot be serious. That's...depraved! I refuse to!"

Every part of his face was twisted up to match the disgusted sneer on those bloody lips. But Sylar merely shrugged and with the aid of his telekinetic grip, forced Mohinder's body to bend down.

"Now then, Mohinder...if you can't feel the connection we had together...finding them. Then I'll make you feel something else. Open your mouth."

Flat-out refusal to part his lips was what Mohinder offered Sylar as a reply. A low chuckle as Sylar moved his free hand to Mohinder's face to graze down his stubble-laced jaw. Without warning, Sylar grasped his hand with his thumb and index finger on either side of Mohinder's cheek. Pressing in tightly enough so that he could feel his fingers could rest underneath the edge of Mohinder's top half of his jaw forced his mouth open with a pained grunt.

Sylar moved and kept Mohinder's head still with his telekinesis, letting go of those curls and using that hand to guide the tip of his cock into Mohinder's mouth. A soft whimper was heard as the tip went past his lips and teeth and down, shaft sliding further and further. Moaning softly, Sylar moved his hand back down to graze the pad of his thumb over Mohinder's cheek.

"Now then...Dr. Suresh...I'm going to let go of your face and when I do I'm going to hope for your sake that you don't dare to put your teeth anywhere near me. Is that understood?"

A muffled grunt and a blink of his eyes assured Sylar that Mohinder wouldn't try anything. So he relaxed and groaned out his left hand moving back to those curls and tightening again as he forced Mohinder to bob up and down on him.

Sylar closed his eyes and moaned as the tongue that lashed out against him earlier instead lapped at him. Twisting and flicking as Mohinder hoped that it would just end quickly, that Sylar would kill him after this so that he wouldn't have to live with the shame of giving pleasure to his father's killer. With each stroke of his tongue against firm smooth flesh he felt that the shame had started to boil up and turned into a rage once more. How dare this man assume that he could just treat people like this, powers or not.

Slowly, a grin spread over his face as Sylar bucked his hips and shoved himself down more ,filling Mohinder's mouth. A choke constricted the muscles of Mohinder's throat around Sylar's cock. Sucking harder as he kept up his breathing through his nose the best he could. Salty precum mixed with dried blood to make him gag even harder than before as his sucking motions made the liquid drip easily down his throat. Sylar panted softly as he grunted again, slowly thrusting back and forth inside of Mohinder's warm, wet hole.

Mohinder couldn't take the taste in his mouth as he retched hard once more but this time, he succeeded in his teeth sinking right into Sylar's quivering flesh. With a backward thrust and a slick 'pop' sound, Sylar withdrew his now bleeding cock from the man's mouth. He roared out a guttural cry then stumbled back several steps wincing. Oh that son of a bitch he'll pay for this. His hand lifted and a chair slammed against the apartment's door. Another flick of his wrist and in his rage a different lamp went crashing to the floor, books came off the shelf as they scattered on the floor and the iv stand tipped over and punctured from hitting a shard of glass on the floor. It left a small but growing puddle on the hard wood floor.

As soon as he could breathe again after gasping and coughing a few times, Mohinder took advantage and tried to run off. To his shock and complete relief he found that Sylar's hold on him was broken. Quickly, he scrambled to his feet and tried to run until that chair slammed to the door. He turned and went the other way trying to at least get some distance from the man whose powers were erratic at best right now from how many of Mohinder's belonging were being 

chucked around the apartment. However before he could race off to the bedroom and barricade himself in, he found himself being dragged back to the man.

Sylar carefully pulled his boxers and jeans back up all the way while he effortlessly kept Mohinder at bay. When he was face to face with him again he scowled and grabbed Mohinder's shirt collar, tugging him closer still.

"I was just going to have you and then take the list after but now I'm thinking that I need to change that plan. No, Mohinder you're going to be mine...you're going to come with me as I move down that list of names, one by one. You'll be all mine to do whatever I please with and trust me Mohinder I'm not--"

He stopped in mid-sentence as he heard footsteps. Sure and steady right outside the door. Sylar smirked and looked toward the door then at Mohinder. With a flick of the wrist, Mohinder found himself looking down on Sylar and the carnage he wrecked in his place as his back was pinned firmly to the ceiling. He groaned hard his body ached from earlier and his jaw and throat were sore. Blood dripped down from his lips and they were now slightly puffed from the bruising blows they suffered at having met both the floor and the back of Sylar's hand.

Sylar smirked up at him, he was both helpless but easily seen as a warning that whomever stepped through that door would soon regret it. He tilted his head and put his finger to his pursed lips then slowly walked to the hall as he would wait to strike at the most opportune moment. The door to Mohinder's apartment slowly swung open as Peter Petrelli stepped in. He halted as he looked down to realize there was a knocked over chair against the bottom of that door.

As he stepped in, he took in the sight of the broken furniture, the busted lamps, and the utter silence in the room. Peter found it to be rather disquieting that there seemed to be no one around but at struggle had certainly happened.

"Suresh?..."

Peter stepped over an...is that an IV bag stand? Something bad must have happened here...he figured he had to call out again, see if Mohinder was hurt and couldn't move somewhere.

"It's Peter Petrelli."

So Peter cautiously walked around the living room trying to peer through the mess. None of this was right. He walked further into the room not even noticing the door creaked as it shut back up again.

"Mohinder!?"

Suddenly he felt something irritating his scalp. Peter reached up and scratched his fingernails through his hair briskly. When he pulled his hand away again he felt something sticky on his fingertips. He flinched as he felt that whatever it was it dripped again. By instinct, he looked up and gaped at the sight of Mohinder Suresh somehow stuck to the ceiling, clothes slightly torn, and his face bruised and bloodied. The substance on his hand was Mohinder's blood. Before he could even put everything together in his own mind Peter heard Mohinder gasp out a hoarse one word warning.

"...Sylar..."

Peter's heart skipped at the name and a flash went through his head of when he saved the cheerleader, Claire from that man. He wondered if the man was in fact still there and what would 

happen if they had to face off again. As the man silently appeared behind him, Peter would soon find out.