( Sylar puts himself together while he listens to Mohinder, doing so with a lazy flick of his wrist. He was half clothed once more. Eventually he'll need a shirt, as the tepid night air would undoubtedly cool eventually, but for now he's enjoying the feel of those hands in his chest hair far too much.

He leans further into the touch, about to kiss Mohinder's forehead and just hold him closer when that question occurs. He's taken aback, definitely, looking surprised and caught off guard. )

Talk about a curveball...

( Grumble grumble. He almost wishes he had Parkman's telepathy right now. That would be so easier than trying to put his thoughts into words. He sighs deeply, his head falling back on the ground. )

...And yes, you clueless idiot. I was. I knew from the second you introduced yourself to 'Zane' that it wouldn't end well for either of us. ( He looks down into those eyes, speaking with genuine honesty. ) Don't have any romantic notions: it wasn't a love-at-first-sight, angel chorus moment. It was a 'dear lord this man is beautiful and I want to fuck him against Zane's stupidly oversized windows and make the whole world watch' type of moment.

But Montana is where it all changed. That road trip, the more we spoke, I just wanted to take care of you. Even as I wanted the list, and dreaded the day when you'd find out about me, I just wanted...

( He shakes his head and looks away. )

...Forget it. There's no happy ending for people like us, is there?