This Changes Nothing

Summary: Mohinder and Zane Taylor have a one night stand in the middle of nowhere, which leaves Sylar with a guilt complex…some dark humor but loads of angst. Warning: R rated for some smut and language.

"What the fuck is the matter with me?"

He whispers to himself as he stands in the frigid night air, outside some desolate motel in that middle of nowhere. It is close to 2:30 in the morning but he knows he won't be sleeping - not anytime soon anyway.

He slips his hands back into his coat pockets and buries his face a little deeper into the collar of his coat, trying to block his face from the brutal wind chill. Hell, he can always go back to his own room but he doesn't want to insult him.

The thought of being concerned by such a thing makes him feel sick all over.

Hell, why should he care if he hurts his feelings? Why does that matter to him?

You like him?

Shut the fuck up!

You do…admit it.

It was a one night stand - doesn't mean a goddamn thing.

So, he stands there arguing with himself like an asshole. It's his own fault, no - not really, how the hell is anyone suppose to resist someone like Mohinder Suresh? There should be laws against people that good looking and to further prove the point, the door to the motel room opens and who should be standing there in all his glory but man himself clad only in a pair of boxers, his eyes sleepy.

"What are you doing Zane?" He asks, his voice husky from sleep and Sylar turns to him and tries to smile but finds he can't. He shrugs instead.

"I was getting some air," he says lamely.

Mohinder shivers as another burst of cold wind blows towards them. He wraps his hands under his arms and stands there shaking.

"You're going to get sick!" Sylar admonishes him, maybe a bit forcefully then Zane would and Mohinder doesn't notice or he doesn't care.

"Then come inside with me," he says as if it's the most plausible thing in the world and maybe it is but not for him.

He can't even begin to fathom what just happened. How he of all people could be so fucking stupid! But, this - going back into that room and crawling into bed with him, cuddling?

God! What would be next - remorse, a guilty conscious? He shudders at the thought.

"Come inside," Mohinder urges again and Sylar wants to hit him, hard!

Just shut the fucking door and let me think!

Instead, he just nods his head like a stupid puppet and follows Mohinder back into the room. Mohinder closes the door and walks to the thermostat and turns up the heat as Sylar stands there in his coat, still shivering like the miserable wreck Mohinder has unwittingly turned him into.

For god sakes, did the sex have to be that good?

"We can talk about this if you want, Zane?" Mohinder says as a swatch of moonlight hits his face and makes him look even more beautiful, even more desirable and against his wishes, Sylar feels himself to become aroused all over again.

He hates himself for it but he figures he hates Mohinder more. This wasn't suppose to happen. This was not planned and now he is lost, feeling like some love sick girl on her first fucking' date.

He doesn't know if he should tackle him or throw up or even…

Kill him.

He does nothing. He just shrugs off his coat because suddenly the room is too warm, almost stifling. He feels himself choking on it.

"What's to talk about?" He says and shrugs his shoulders like he sleeps with other men all the time or better yet men who look like him.

God! Would it kill the man to put on some clothes. He almost can't stand the sight of him. His body is so perfect. All shiny caramel skin, smatterings of hair. His face…those lips.

"I just want you to know that I am starting to care for you, Zane," Mohinder says carefully, coming over to him, "What happened means something to me," he continues and when he leans in to punctuate him remarks with a kiss. Sylar feels he has no choice and kisses back. He feels Mohinder press up against him and kiss him even deeper and what the hell is he suppose to do? Instant hard on, he grips the back of Mohinder's hair, hard enough to make the other man gasp out loud.

"Sorry," he says and takes a step back.

"It's okay, I don't mind it a little rougher," Mohinder answers with a smirk.

You have no idea how rough I can be…

"I don't want to hurt you," he says and is stunned to find that he has said those words out loud.

"So…"

"I don't think this should go beyond…tonight," He finishes lamely.

You sound like a fucking bitch!

"I suppose I got ahead of myself," Mohinder says and there is no mistaking the tinge of sadness in his voice, "I thought you liked me."

Liked you, I think I might fucking love you and I can't…I just can't.

"I do," he says, "but I can't be involved with anyone - its complicated."

"It always is," Mohinder says and starts towards him and Sylar can make out his face a bit clearer. There is definite hurt there but what kills him more then that is the slow realization that he hurts as well. In fact, he feels as if his heart is about to worm itself right out of chest and march itself over to die at Mohinder's feet without or without his permission.

Shit. Fuck! This wasn't suppose to happen, I don't need him - I don't need anyone.

He can feel the hot, demanding gaze of Mohinder's beautiful eyes and he flounders then and starts babbling what he hopes is some good sense. Something to end what has started to build, something he doesn't need.

"Maybe if circumstances were different but they aren't."

"What is it? What's holding you back?"

Mohinder persists, edging closer to him.

You don't want to know…you really don't - so drop it, please fucking drop it.

"I don't think you would like me if you got to know me," he says, "I am not exactly boyfriend material."

"No one's perfect," Mohinder says and then there are those lips again. Hot, desperate, needy lips and he can feel it - fire, burning everything in sight and he hates him, hates himself, he doesn't want to give in.

He doesn't want to miss him when he's gone. He doesn't want to need anyone.

Yet, he can't deny it. He can't not give in.

He pushes Mohinder back towards the bed and falls on top of him. He is rougher this time and Mohinder groans underneath him in appreciation and Sylar can't resist. He can't turn this off as much as he wants too.

Just one more time, just once more…one more time…

He just wants to mark him, leave him bruised because this isn't a forever thing and soon he will have to go.

But, he doesn't want to be forgotten. No, he wants Mohinder to hurt, to remember.

There are no preliminaries this time. This is more primal, more desperate, this isn't sex - this is fucking and he's going make sure he can feel him even after he's gone.

He eases himself in and then hearing the shuddered gasps of the other man. He loses all control of himself and his senses and rides him, hard. He doesn't want to care, want to know how the man beneath him feels at the moment. The man who now reaches up with both hands to clutch at his back and urge him on breathing the name Zane over and over again and Sylar doesn't know if he should laugh or cry at the realization of just how fucked up he is now.

Instead, he continues on - harder, faster - the world and everything in it speeding up and he almost wants to beg, plead to make this last.

He doesn't want a tomorrow, he just wants this, him - just like this and he can't -have that - not anymore, never again and with a strangled cry, he comes. He collapses on the other man and hears him breathing against him. His body hot and sticky - limbs everywhere and as he feels Mohinder hands come up, cup his face and the feeling is too tender, too beautiful and he doesn't want it.

He doesn't need it - affection, care, love.

Mohinder kisses him with gentle lips.

He turns his head away, feeling the unwanted sting of tears on his face and he can barely speak. He is too overcome. He doesn't want this - but here it is and its so beautiful. He doesn't deserve it. He doesn't deserve to ever feel anything like this ever again.

"Zane…"

He tilts his head back towards the man still lying beneath him and leans in and kisses him.

"This changes nothing," he whispers as he pauses in the middle of their kiss. He rests his forehead against Mohinder's and together they just lie there in the dark, panting, breathing and waiting for the end to come.