A Call
A Call
Hola! Here's a Mylar drabble for y'all. This is basically just practice since I'm trying to work my way up to writing an actual, long FIC with plot and everything. Concrit/feedback help! =)
Disclaimers: Don't own. Don't sue!Warnings: Slash. Just a little flirting, nothing graphic. If two guys in love bugs you, bugger off! No real spoilers or anything, but it'd be safest if you've seen both seasons.A Call
Annoyingly, the phone rang. It always rang right as he was drifting off. It could be 3 A.M. or 11:30 P.M; it didn’t matter in the slightest. He always knew, the bastard.
Mohinder sighed.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Mohinder.”
He could hear the smug smile in Sylar’s voice. Bastard, Mohinder thought again.
“What can I do for you?” Mohinder played the polite card, hoping it would make him appear self-sacrificing enough for Sylar to have a major guilt trip and go away promptly. No such luck.
“Do you really want me to answer that?” Mohinder could hear crinkling sounds in the background.
“What are you doing?”
“Putting my chips away.”
Oh. Well that was…normal. Mohinder frowned. “Why are you calling me, Sylar? I have a lot of research to do tomorrow and I don’t really have time for—“
“What are you wearing, Mohinder?”
The geneticist rolled his eyes at the cliché. “Are you serious? Look, I’m tired a—“
“What are you wearing?”
“Sylar.”
“Mohinder.”
He sighed. “Quit being a dick.”
Sylar’s chuckle warmed Mohinder in ways few other things could. He smiled and rolled onto his back, looking up at the shadows of the blinds on the ceiling. “You know when you’re coming back, yet?”
He could almost see Sylar’s frown. “No.”
No change there, really. Mohinder knew it was for both their safety, but it was disappointing nonetheless. They listened to each other breathe.
Quietly, Mohinder stretched and shifted back onto his side. “Mmm,” he said, bringing them back to the present. “I’m sorry, but I must tear myself away.”
“But—“
“I wasn’t lying about the research. I really must get some sleep. I haven’t slept since the night before last.” Mohinder closed his eyes. “I must to find a cure. I must.”
“You will.”
“I’m not so sure. I haven’t made any measurable progress in weeks and the Company is starting to notice. I’m actually surprised they aren't trying to check up on me as we speak.”
“Mohinder, it’s 2:37 in the morning. No one will be checking up on you.”
“You’d be surprised.” Mohinder muttered.
“I’ll never be surprised by anything the Company does. They're capable of anything.”
Mohinder frowned while keeping his eyes closed as painful memories surfaced at the casual remark. “There was a time I would say the same of you,” he said softly.
Sylar’s breathing was the only clue he was still near the phone.
“I love you. The Company might not, the world might not, but I do.”
“I know,” Sylar whispered. “I know.”