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No Homo
“Aah,” Mohinder exhaled after a very satisfying quickie in the closet with Sylar. “That was nice.”
“Sure was.” Sylar stood up and zipped up his pants. “No homo, though.”
Mohinder blinked. “What?”
“No homo.” Sylar casually pulled his shirt down over his head and was about to exit the closet when Mohinder grabbed his arm.
“What do you mean, no homo? We just had sex!” Mohinder exclaimed.
“I meant what I said. No homo,” Sylar said simply. “Will you let go of my arm, please?”
“NO, I won’t let go of your arm!” Mohinder was totally confused. “How could there be ‘no homo’ involved in this? You just shoved your cock up my ass!!!”
“I know. But no homo.”
“But—but—that doesn’t make any sense!” Mohinder cried.
“Makes perfect sense to me,” said Sylar. “I was raised Catholic, after all.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
He looked puzzled. “I’m not sure.”
“Just take it back, would you?”
“Take what back?”
“This ‘no homo’ crap!”
“But I meant it. No homo.”
“BUT WE JUST FUCKED EACH OTHER!” Mohinder was getting quite hysterical now.
“You know, you’re getting quite hysterical,” Sylar observed. “You should calm down. Want me to make you some chai?”
“What—I—no I don’t want chai!”
Sylar shrugged. “All right. Suit yourself.” He wrenched his arm free of Mohinder’s grasp and headed to the kitchen.
“Sylar? Sylar!” Not bothering to put his clothes on, Mohinder ran out of the closet straight to Sylar, who was quite amused.
“Might want to put some pants on,” he said, smirking.
“Does saying ‘no homo’ make what we did null and void or something?” Mohinder asked, getting all up in Sylar’s face, dawg.
“Yep,” Sylar said, getting the chai ready.
“That makes no earthly sense!” His eyes were bulging now. “You can’t just undo fucking someone!”
“I just did,” Sylar said smugly.
“You—you—oh, forget it.” Mohinder sighed, and went back in the closet to change into his clothes.
Sylar smiled. “I win again,” he said softly to himself, and cheerily hummed “I’ve Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts” under his breath as he prepared the chai.