Heroes Fic: Simple, Uncomplicated
Oct. 27th, 2007 06:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
out_thereTitle: Simple, Uncomplicated
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Matt/Mohinder
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I make no profit.
Notes: I have this urge to write porn for Matt/Mohinder. I just do. I'm going with the flow for now. Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
storydivagirl for betaing.
Summary: It's familiar and it's easy -- the way sex with buddies is always simple, uncomplicated.
When it happens, it doesn't take Matt by surprise. It's not that he was expecting this -- far from it, really -- but he reads the signals well enough. It's late at night, dark, and they're both in Mohinder's double bed.
("You're welcome to stay with Molly and me, while you get everything sorted. As long as you don't mind sharing a bed," Mohinder had said during Matt's last week at the hospital; Matt had shrugged, smiled, and said, "You're talking to a guy who's been married so long that sleeping alone in a bed feels weird." The sharing-a-bed thing has stayed, despite Mohinder's early offer to buy two singles and if Mohinder hogs the covers, Matt snores, so it comes out even.)
This is the first time it happens. Mohinder rolls onto his side, leaning against Matt and Matt can feel his hard-on pressing into his hip. He can feel it and so can Mohinder, but Mohinder doesn't pull back, doesn't make an excuse, doesn't act embarrassed. He just mutters, "I can't sleep."
(Back in Matt's first year as a cop, he hung out more with the guys, went over to their places to watch football games. Dave used the same tone when he said, "Those cheerleaders sure are something, huh?" and stretched his arms above his head, pulling his clothes tight and making his erection obvious.)
It's familiar and it's easy -- the way sex with buddies is always simple, uncomplicated -- so Matt smiles into his pillow and says, "I might be able to help with that."
"Really?" Mohinder's voice is low, breathy, full of promise in the darkness.
Matt reaches over, a little clumsy in the dark and slides his hand down until he's palming Mohinder's cock. The hiss he gets in return is rewarding.
"Can you be quiet?" he asks, pushing the sweats down to Mohinder's hip, just enough to free his cock.
"Yes," Mohinder replies, sounding confused.
"Don't want to wake up Molly," Matt explains, pulling himself up and shuffling down the bed, under the covers. He finds Mohinder's cock by touch, sucks on the head lightly while he rearranges his weight on his knees, his feet hooked over the end of the bed. Then he really starts sucking, bobbing his head a little, using a hand to stroke the root of Mohinder's cock, to ghost fingers over the tender skin of his balls.
It's been a while since he's done this. Since before he met Janice, really. He's used to doing it drunk, while he knelt in front of some couch, but it comes back easily enough. It's all about the heat in his mouth, the weight on his tongue, the stretch of his lips. It's the taste and smell of sex and sweat and bodies; the strength of hips and thighs, muscles clenching, a hand tight in his hair as someone fucks his mouth.
But Mohinder doesn't do that last bit. He keeps his hips still, apart from the occasional upwards twitch, and his hands are gentle, soft, whispering over Matt's head, fingers sliding lightly over Matt's scalp.
Mohinder stays quiet. His breathing is slow and measured, catching a little more as his hips twitch, as Matt keeps sucking, the taste getting stronger on his tongue. When Mohinder comes, he holds his breath, shoulders lifting off the bed but perfectly quiet as the flavour floods Matt's mouth.
Matt swallows -- less mess to clean up that way -- and drops his face to Mohinder's hip, grabbing at his own dick and stroking fast. He's hard and turned on -- always turned on by sucking cock, always -- and one of Mohinder's hands is still resting against his head, fingernails scraping across the nape of his neck as he jerks off quickly, rushing for the finish.
He comes on the sheet. It's low enough on the bed that the wet spot shouldn't be a problem.
After a few breaths, he pushes himself up and crawls back to his side of the bed. He stretches out on his stomach, dragging the pillow under his head, and says, "Night."
He's asleep before he hears if there's a reply.
***
The second time starts with a hand on his hip. It's been nearly a week since the first time and Matt hasn't worried about it. He knows how these things go: two guys let off a bit of steam and then ignore it the next day. Normally, it’s ignored forever; no one talks about it, nobody admits it, and it doesn't happen again.
(The only exception was Dave, the way he'd said two days later, "There's another game on Saturday. If you want to come over and watch it, you've got to bring the brewskis.")
It's not a big deal, and Matt doesn't expect it to happen again, but it does. One night, in the perfect darkness of their shared bedroom, Mohinder rolls over, lays a hand on Matt's hip and asks, "Having trouble sleeping?"
Matt says, "Something like that," and this time it's easy to rearrange his legs and arms on the bed, to find Mohinder's flushed cock in the dark, to coordinate hands and mouth, and listen for the things that make Mohinder's breath catch.
This time, he stretches his legs out flat, rocks his hips against the mattress as he sucks. He pays more attention to the twitches of Mohinder's hips and manages to get a hand on his own dick, jerking off as Mohinder comes in his mouth.
It still takes him a few breaths to recover, though. A moment of panting against Mohinder's skin before crawling over to his side of the bed and falling asleep.
***
The third time, Mohinder doesn't say anything. He just slides a hand over the curve of Matt's hip, and Matt gets to his knees, slides down the bed, closes his eyes and sucks cock.
***
After the third time, it falls into a routine. It's not as regular as doing the dishes or as planned as providing the meals, but it's familiar. It doesn't happen every night because some nights Mohinder stays up reading, some he's overseas lecturing and sometimes they both fall asleep early. But every so often, Mohinder will slide into bed, reach over, and lay a hand on Matt's hip.
One night, Matt gets a little bold, a little daring, and drops a kiss to Mohinder's tight stomach on his way down. Then he sucks Mohinder's cock as hard as he can, as deep as he can. For once, he comes first -- hand around his dick -- and has to pull off for a moment to get his breath back. He mumbles out, "Sorry," and then finishes the job.
***
It's been weeks, and Matt's possibly developed a Pavlovian reaction to Mohinder's hand finding his hip. These days, that's all it takes to get him hard: lying in the dark and feeling a hand on his hip. He's used to that hand and what it means, and even half-asleep he finds himself moving down the bed, nuzzling the root of Mohinder's cock as he finishes waking up.
He feels that hand and he starts moving down the bed, so it takes him by surprise when Mohinder grabs hold of his arm, fingers on his bicep, and pulls him back up. Matt stops for a minute, listening, scanning for Molly's mind, trying to see if she's awake. It's quiet and she's dreaming about turtles -- her latest love at the pet store -- so he lets his mind go blank and turns toward Mohinder.
"What?" he whispers, keeping his voice low. In this dark, he can't really see Mohinder. He can make out the bridge of his nose, the dark curls against the pillows, the outline of his face, but it's not enough to read his expression.
"Not so fast," Mohinder says, matching Matt's volume. "You're always…" a pause, then a huffed sigh, "…rushing, like a train without brakes. Just, for tonight, not so fast."
"Sure," Matt says, not giving in to his petty urge to point out that even if his blow jobs are rushed, it hasn't stopped Mohinder from coming every time. It's a bit of an insult, but fine. This is what it is. It's two guys getting off, nothing more complicated than that; it's not something that requires worrying about the other guy's tissue-thin ego when he's not doing it right.
So Matt slows down, licks softly along Mohinder's length, teases his tongue across the slit, holds onto Mohinder's cock and takes forever sliding his mouth up and down it. It works. Mohinder draws up his legs, thighs bracketing Matt's shoulders, straining his hips upwards as he starts dragging in ragged gasps. He whispers Matt's name once, hands not on Matt's head but on his shoulders, clawing into the muscle, and then Matt picks the rhythm up, sucks harder and swallows as Mohinder comes.
When Matt jerks himself off, he does it hard and fast because he knows what he likes. He doesn't see the point in stretching it out. Sex between friends is about convenience and orgasms, it's not about hearts and candy.
Except Mohinder doesn't seem to agree because when Matt drags himself up to his side of the bed, Mohinder leans up on one elbow and says, "That wasn't precisely what I meant, but thank you," and leans forward to kiss him.
Matt reacts quickly, turning his head to the side, so the kiss only brushes his cheek. "Night," he says, pulling back and twisting to lie on his side, facing away from Mohinder.
From the lack of movement behind him, the way the mattress doesn't wobble under him, Matt knows that Mohinder stays propped up on an elbow. Matt nearly holds his breath, waiting for Mohinder to speak but Mohinder only rolls back to his side of the bed.
***
The next few days pass and Mohinder doesn't reach for him. Matt reminds himself that it doesn't matter.
It's almost convincing.
***
After a week, Matt's pretty sure it's over. It's the longest they've slept in the same bed without messing around -- well, since this started -- and Matt decides he's fine with it. It's buddy-sex, it's supposed to be simple and uncomplicated, strings-free and no obligation to continue. He doesn't sulk or mope around the place, doesn't whine or get grumpy. He keeps the atmosphere of the tiny apartment as friendly as it's always been and joins in when Molly teases Mohinder about his lack of knowledge about Disney classics.
He gets undressed at night same as always, changes into a t-shirt and shorts, turns off the light, and gets into his side of the bed. Sometimes he goes to sleep before Mohinder comes to bed, sometimes after.
Sometimes Matt lies awake and listens to Mohinder's slow, regular breathing as he falls asleep.
***
Matt finishes putting Molly to bed and heads to his shared room, and is surprised to find Mohinder in there already. He's sitting on the end of the bed, wearing sweats and a long-sleeved top against the constant cold that only he feels.
The light's still on so Matt goes ahead and starts undressing, changing into sleeping clothes. "Early night?" he asks Mohinder, pulling the t-shirt over his head and keeping on the boxers he's worn all day.
Mohinder walks over -- as he's dressing, so Matt doesn't see until he pulls the t-shirt down -- and then slides a hand to the soft curve of Matt's waist. "I'm not sure what's going on here."
Matt shrugs, but he doesn't step away. He doesn't step closer, either. "That makes two of us."
"You don't make life easy, Matthew Parkman," Mohinder says, and in the clear light, Matt can see the earnest expression on Mohinder's face, the downward slant of his lips that make him look hurt and confused. He drifts forward slowly, and Matt realises -- a second later and it would have been too late -- that Mohinder's going to kiss him. He jerks his head back just in time.
"What is going on here?" Mohinder demands, stepping away, pacing over to the other side of the small room. He sounds annoyed, but Matt's still glad to have the space between them.
"What was going on," Matt says, "was two friends having casual sex. A couple of guys getting off."
Mohinder narrows his eyes, watching Matt like he's a specimen on a slide. "Then what changed?"
"Nothing’s changed. You stopped reaching for me, and I figured..." Matt shrugs, letting the thought hang in the air.
"You pulled back when I tried to kiss you."
"What's kissing got to do with sex?" Matt asks, and the question sounds stupid, even to him. "And before you make some sarcastic reply, I like kissing as much as the next guy. But the whole buddy-sex thing is about getting off -- getting your dick sucked, whatever. It's not about... It's not about anything else, okay?"
"I don't understand," Mohinder says, sharp accent stressing the word and Matt nearly speaks, thinking that his sentence is finished, "your reluctance to try other things that would feel good."
"It makes it harder, okay?"
"Harder to do what?"
"Harder to remember that--” Matt shrugs. He wishes he had turned the light off before this started. It would have been an easier conversation in the dark, where he's only distracted by Mohinder's deep accent, not the curve of Mohinder's lips and the endless darkness of his eyes. "Buddy-sex is supposed to be simple, uncomplicated. No obligations, no promises. It's just sex. It doesn't mean anything."
(He may be slow on the uptake sometimes, but Matt's not stupid. He learned his lesson with Dave. He'd taken things for granted and thought frequency meant something. And then he'd gotten stuck making conversation with Dave's idiot girlfriend.)
"And if you kissed me, you would find it harder to remember that sleeping with me is inconsequential?"
"I'd find it hard to maintain the distinction, yeah." Feeling exposed, Matt crosses his arms. "It is what it is, okay? String-free cocksucking or nothing but friendship. Those are your two options."
"There should be a third option," Mohinder says, walking towards Matt. He reaches a hand out, cups it around the side of Matt's neck, and Matt flinches. Mohinder keeps his hand there, cool against Matt's skin. "There should be an option with obligations, with promises."
Rolling his eyes, Matt points out the obvious. "That's called dating. There are at least three teachers at Molly's school who'd be happy to go out with you if you'd just ask. I could look after Molly for the night. It wouldn't be a big deal."
"I'm not interested in the staff at Molly's school. I'm interested in you."
"That's not a good idea."
Mohinder smiles. It's a kind smile, a beautiful smile, and it makes Matt ache for things he can’t have. "I think it would be a very good idea."
"We're raising a kid together and--"
"And what, Matthew?"
"And I'm not good at relationships. Ask my ex-wife." That last word hurts more than he expected, like it scraped his throat as he said it.
"I'm a very intelligent man." Only Mohinder could say that and not sound arrogant. "You should have some faith in that."
Matt forces out a rusty chuckle. "Sure, your intelligence is going to stop me screwing this up."
"No," Mohinder says, stepping forward until Matt's back is pressed against the wall. He settles his arms on each side of Matt's head and leans in close. "But it does allow me to see that in the past, you have clearly made bad choices when it comes to sex and have chosen people who either did not recognise who you are or did not act accordingly."
Matt presses his palms flat against the wall, pushing against the cool plaster, as Mohinder leans even closer, breathing his words against Matt's lips. Nose resting against nose, and Mohinder's lips so close to his that Matt can feel the heat from his skin, and Mohinder is pressed up against him, chest and hips and thighs... Matt closes his eyes without noticing.
"You should have faith in me. That I'm smart enough to understand why Molly considers you her hero--"
"Because she's a ten year kid and I lucked out on being the first one to find her," Matt interrupts.
"That I'm smart enough to see when you sell yourself short and how often you do it," Mohinder continues with firm certainty. "And that I'm smart enough to treat you the way you deserve."
"I'm pretty sure my ex-wife's already got that--"
This time Mohinder interrupts, closing the miniscule gap between their lips. Matt tenses, instincts telling him to pull back but there's nowhere to go. It takes him a moment to recognise how gently Mohinder's kissing him, one hand on Matt's cheek, lips warm and barely parted against Matt's. It also occurs to him that they're standing in a fully-lit room and this is the first time he's ever kissed Mohinder. It takes him by surprise.
It’s even more surprising that he finds himself kissing back, opening his mouth and running the tip of his tongue lightly over Mohinder's lips. It's slow and questioning until Mohinder takes control of the kiss, licking his way past teeth and tracing over the ridges along the roof of Matt's mouth. Matt moans, the sound echoing loud in his own ears.
Embarrassed, he pulls back, "Sorry, Molly--" but Mohinder cuts him off with a quick peck and says, "Promises are not always a bad thing, Matt."
Matt gives a little nod. His face feels flushed, like he's blushing, and he really hopes he isn't. In this light, Mohinder would see for sure. "It's just been a while since I've believed in them."
"Then have faith in me." Mohinder kisses him again and for the first time in a long while, Matt thinks that maybe -- just maybe -- he can trust this to work out.
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Matt/Mohinder
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I make no profit.
Notes: I have this urge to write porn for Matt/Mohinder. I just do. I'm going with the flow for now. Thanks to
storydivagirl for betaing.Summary: It's familiar and it's easy -- the way sex with buddies is always simple, uncomplicated.
When it happens, it doesn't take Matt by surprise. It's not that he was expecting this -- far from it, really -- but he reads the signals well enough. It's late at night, dark, and they're both in Mohinder's double bed.
("You're welcome to stay with Molly and me, while you get everything sorted. As long as you don't mind sharing a bed," Mohinder had said during Matt's last week at the hospital; Matt had shrugged, smiled, and said, "You're talking to a guy who's been married so long that sleeping alone in a bed feels weird." The sharing-a-bed thing has stayed, despite Mohinder's early offer to buy two singles and if Mohinder hogs the covers, Matt snores, so it comes out even.)
This is the first time it happens. Mohinder rolls onto his side, leaning against Matt and Matt can feel his hard-on pressing into his hip. He can feel it and so can Mohinder, but Mohinder doesn't pull back, doesn't make an excuse, doesn't act embarrassed. He just mutters, "I can't sleep."
(Back in Matt's first year as a cop, he hung out more with the guys, went over to their places to watch football games. Dave used the same tone when he said, "Those cheerleaders sure are something, huh?" and stretched his arms above his head, pulling his clothes tight and making his erection obvious.)
It's familiar and it's easy -- the way sex with buddies is always simple, uncomplicated -- so Matt smiles into his pillow and says, "I might be able to help with that."
"Really?" Mohinder's voice is low, breathy, full of promise in the darkness.
Matt reaches over, a little clumsy in the dark and slides his hand down until he's palming Mohinder's cock. The hiss he gets in return is rewarding.
"Can you be quiet?" he asks, pushing the sweats down to Mohinder's hip, just enough to free his cock.
"Yes," Mohinder replies, sounding confused.
"Don't want to wake up Molly," Matt explains, pulling himself up and shuffling down the bed, under the covers. He finds Mohinder's cock by touch, sucks on the head lightly while he rearranges his weight on his knees, his feet hooked over the end of the bed. Then he really starts sucking, bobbing his head a little, using a hand to stroke the root of Mohinder's cock, to ghost fingers over the tender skin of his balls.
It's been a while since he's done this. Since before he met Janice, really. He's used to doing it drunk, while he knelt in front of some couch, but it comes back easily enough. It's all about the heat in his mouth, the weight on his tongue, the stretch of his lips. It's the taste and smell of sex and sweat and bodies; the strength of hips and thighs, muscles clenching, a hand tight in his hair as someone fucks his mouth.
But Mohinder doesn't do that last bit. He keeps his hips still, apart from the occasional upwards twitch, and his hands are gentle, soft, whispering over Matt's head, fingers sliding lightly over Matt's scalp.
Mohinder stays quiet. His breathing is slow and measured, catching a little more as his hips twitch, as Matt keeps sucking, the taste getting stronger on his tongue. When Mohinder comes, he holds his breath, shoulders lifting off the bed but perfectly quiet as the flavour floods Matt's mouth.
Matt swallows -- less mess to clean up that way -- and drops his face to Mohinder's hip, grabbing at his own dick and stroking fast. He's hard and turned on -- always turned on by sucking cock, always -- and one of Mohinder's hands is still resting against his head, fingernails scraping across the nape of his neck as he jerks off quickly, rushing for the finish.
He comes on the sheet. It's low enough on the bed that the wet spot shouldn't be a problem.
After a few breaths, he pushes himself up and crawls back to his side of the bed. He stretches out on his stomach, dragging the pillow under his head, and says, "Night."
He's asleep before he hears if there's a reply.
***
The second time starts with a hand on his hip. It's been nearly a week since the first time and Matt hasn't worried about it. He knows how these things go: two guys let off a bit of steam and then ignore it the next day. Normally, it’s ignored forever; no one talks about it, nobody admits it, and it doesn't happen again.
(The only exception was Dave, the way he'd said two days later, "There's another game on Saturday. If you want to come over and watch it, you've got to bring the brewskis.")
It's not a big deal, and Matt doesn't expect it to happen again, but it does. One night, in the perfect darkness of their shared bedroom, Mohinder rolls over, lays a hand on Matt's hip and asks, "Having trouble sleeping?"
Matt says, "Something like that," and this time it's easy to rearrange his legs and arms on the bed, to find Mohinder's flushed cock in the dark, to coordinate hands and mouth, and listen for the things that make Mohinder's breath catch.
This time, he stretches his legs out flat, rocks his hips against the mattress as he sucks. He pays more attention to the twitches of Mohinder's hips and manages to get a hand on his own dick, jerking off as Mohinder comes in his mouth.
It still takes him a few breaths to recover, though. A moment of panting against Mohinder's skin before crawling over to his side of the bed and falling asleep.
***
The third time, Mohinder doesn't say anything. He just slides a hand over the curve of Matt's hip, and Matt gets to his knees, slides down the bed, closes his eyes and sucks cock.
***
After the third time, it falls into a routine. It's not as regular as doing the dishes or as planned as providing the meals, but it's familiar. It doesn't happen every night because some nights Mohinder stays up reading, some he's overseas lecturing and sometimes they both fall asleep early. But every so often, Mohinder will slide into bed, reach over, and lay a hand on Matt's hip.
One night, Matt gets a little bold, a little daring, and drops a kiss to Mohinder's tight stomach on his way down. Then he sucks Mohinder's cock as hard as he can, as deep as he can. For once, he comes first -- hand around his dick -- and has to pull off for a moment to get his breath back. He mumbles out, "Sorry," and then finishes the job.
***
It's been weeks, and Matt's possibly developed a Pavlovian reaction to Mohinder's hand finding his hip. These days, that's all it takes to get him hard: lying in the dark and feeling a hand on his hip. He's used to that hand and what it means, and even half-asleep he finds himself moving down the bed, nuzzling the root of Mohinder's cock as he finishes waking up.
He feels that hand and he starts moving down the bed, so it takes him by surprise when Mohinder grabs hold of his arm, fingers on his bicep, and pulls him back up. Matt stops for a minute, listening, scanning for Molly's mind, trying to see if she's awake. It's quiet and she's dreaming about turtles -- her latest love at the pet store -- so he lets his mind go blank and turns toward Mohinder.
"What?" he whispers, keeping his voice low. In this dark, he can't really see Mohinder. He can make out the bridge of his nose, the dark curls against the pillows, the outline of his face, but it's not enough to read his expression.
"Not so fast," Mohinder says, matching Matt's volume. "You're always…" a pause, then a huffed sigh, "…rushing, like a train without brakes. Just, for tonight, not so fast."
"Sure," Matt says, not giving in to his petty urge to point out that even if his blow jobs are rushed, it hasn't stopped Mohinder from coming every time. It's a bit of an insult, but fine. This is what it is. It's two guys getting off, nothing more complicated than that; it's not something that requires worrying about the other guy's tissue-thin ego when he's not doing it right.
So Matt slows down, licks softly along Mohinder's length, teases his tongue across the slit, holds onto Mohinder's cock and takes forever sliding his mouth up and down it. It works. Mohinder draws up his legs, thighs bracketing Matt's shoulders, straining his hips upwards as he starts dragging in ragged gasps. He whispers Matt's name once, hands not on Matt's head but on his shoulders, clawing into the muscle, and then Matt picks the rhythm up, sucks harder and swallows as Mohinder comes.
When Matt jerks himself off, he does it hard and fast because he knows what he likes. He doesn't see the point in stretching it out. Sex between friends is about convenience and orgasms, it's not about hearts and candy.
Except Mohinder doesn't seem to agree because when Matt drags himself up to his side of the bed, Mohinder leans up on one elbow and says, "That wasn't precisely what I meant, but thank you," and leans forward to kiss him.
Matt reacts quickly, turning his head to the side, so the kiss only brushes his cheek. "Night," he says, pulling back and twisting to lie on his side, facing away from Mohinder.
From the lack of movement behind him, the way the mattress doesn't wobble under him, Matt knows that Mohinder stays propped up on an elbow. Matt nearly holds his breath, waiting for Mohinder to speak but Mohinder only rolls back to his side of the bed.
***
The next few days pass and Mohinder doesn't reach for him. Matt reminds himself that it doesn't matter.
It's almost convincing.
***
After a week, Matt's pretty sure it's over. It's the longest they've slept in the same bed without messing around -- well, since this started -- and Matt decides he's fine with it. It's buddy-sex, it's supposed to be simple and uncomplicated, strings-free and no obligation to continue. He doesn't sulk or mope around the place, doesn't whine or get grumpy. He keeps the atmosphere of the tiny apartment as friendly as it's always been and joins in when Molly teases Mohinder about his lack of knowledge about Disney classics.
He gets undressed at night same as always, changes into a t-shirt and shorts, turns off the light, and gets into his side of the bed. Sometimes he goes to sleep before Mohinder comes to bed, sometimes after.
Sometimes Matt lies awake and listens to Mohinder's slow, regular breathing as he falls asleep.
***
Matt finishes putting Molly to bed and heads to his shared room, and is surprised to find Mohinder in there already. He's sitting on the end of the bed, wearing sweats and a long-sleeved top against the constant cold that only he feels.
The light's still on so Matt goes ahead and starts undressing, changing into sleeping clothes. "Early night?" he asks Mohinder, pulling the t-shirt over his head and keeping on the boxers he's worn all day.
Mohinder walks over -- as he's dressing, so Matt doesn't see until he pulls the t-shirt down -- and then slides a hand to the soft curve of Matt's waist. "I'm not sure what's going on here."
Matt shrugs, but he doesn't step away. He doesn't step closer, either. "That makes two of us."
"You don't make life easy, Matthew Parkman," Mohinder says, and in the clear light, Matt can see the earnest expression on Mohinder's face, the downward slant of his lips that make him look hurt and confused. He drifts forward slowly, and Matt realises -- a second later and it would have been too late -- that Mohinder's going to kiss him. He jerks his head back just in time.
"What is going on here?" Mohinder demands, stepping away, pacing over to the other side of the small room. He sounds annoyed, but Matt's still glad to have the space between them.
"What was going on," Matt says, "was two friends having casual sex. A couple of guys getting off."
Mohinder narrows his eyes, watching Matt like he's a specimen on a slide. "Then what changed?"
"Nothing’s changed. You stopped reaching for me, and I figured..." Matt shrugs, letting the thought hang in the air.
"You pulled back when I tried to kiss you."
"What's kissing got to do with sex?" Matt asks, and the question sounds stupid, even to him. "And before you make some sarcastic reply, I like kissing as much as the next guy. But the whole buddy-sex thing is about getting off -- getting your dick sucked, whatever. It's not about... It's not about anything else, okay?"
"I don't understand," Mohinder says, sharp accent stressing the word and Matt nearly speaks, thinking that his sentence is finished, "your reluctance to try other things that would feel good."
"It makes it harder, okay?"
"Harder to do what?"
"Harder to remember that--” Matt shrugs. He wishes he had turned the light off before this started. It would have been an easier conversation in the dark, where he's only distracted by Mohinder's deep accent, not the curve of Mohinder's lips and the endless darkness of his eyes. "Buddy-sex is supposed to be simple, uncomplicated. No obligations, no promises. It's just sex. It doesn't mean anything."
(He may be slow on the uptake sometimes, but Matt's not stupid. He learned his lesson with Dave. He'd taken things for granted and thought frequency meant something. And then he'd gotten stuck making conversation with Dave's idiot girlfriend.)
"And if you kissed me, you would find it harder to remember that sleeping with me is inconsequential?"
"I'd find it hard to maintain the distinction, yeah." Feeling exposed, Matt crosses his arms. "It is what it is, okay? String-free cocksucking or nothing but friendship. Those are your two options."
"There should be a third option," Mohinder says, walking towards Matt. He reaches a hand out, cups it around the side of Matt's neck, and Matt flinches. Mohinder keeps his hand there, cool against Matt's skin. "There should be an option with obligations, with promises."
Rolling his eyes, Matt points out the obvious. "That's called dating. There are at least three teachers at Molly's school who'd be happy to go out with you if you'd just ask. I could look after Molly for the night. It wouldn't be a big deal."
"I'm not interested in the staff at Molly's school. I'm interested in you."
"That's not a good idea."
Mohinder smiles. It's a kind smile, a beautiful smile, and it makes Matt ache for things he can’t have. "I think it would be a very good idea."
"We're raising a kid together and--"
"And what, Matthew?"
"And I'm not good at relationships. Ask my ex-wife." That last word hurts more than he expected, like it scraped his throat as he said it.
"I'm a very intelligent man." Only Mohinder could say that and not sound arrogant. "You should have some faith in that."
Matt forces out a rusty chuckle. "Sure, your intelligence is going to stop me screwing this up."
"No," Mohinder says, stepping forward until Matt's back is pressed against the wall. He settles his arms on each side of Matt's head and leans in close. "But it does allow me to see that in the past, you have clearly made bad choices when it comes to sex and have chosen people who either did not recognise who you are or did not act accordingly."
Matt presses his palms flat against the wall, pushing against the cool plaster, as Mohinder leans even closer, breathing his words against Matt's lips. Nose resting against nose, and Mohinder's lips so close to his that Matt can feel the heat from his skin, and Mohinder is pressed up against him, chest and hips and thighs... Matt closes his eyes without noticing.
"You should have faith in me. That I'm smart enough to understand why Molly considers you her hero--"
"Because she's a ten year kid and I lucked out on being the first one to find her," Matt interrupts.
"That I'm smart enough to see when you sell yourself short and how often you do it," Mohinder continues with firm certainty. "And that I'm smart enough to treat you the way you deserve."
"I'm pretty sure my ex-wife's already got that--"
This time Mohinder interrupts, closing the miniscule gap between their lips. Matt tenses, instincts telling him to pull back but there's nowhere to go. It takes him a moment to recognise how gently Mohinder's kissing him, one hand on Matt's cheek, lips warm and barely parted against Matt's. It also occurs to him that they're standing in a fully-lit room and this is the first time he's ever kissed Mohinder. It takes him by surprise.
It’s even more surprising that he finds himself kissing back, opening his mouth and running the tip of his tongue lightly over Mohinder's lips. It's slow and questioning until Mohinder takes control of the kiss, licking his way past teeth and tracing over the ridges along the roof of Matt's mouth. Matt moans, the sound echoing loud in his own ears.
Embarrassed, he pulls back, "Sorry, Molly--" but Mohinder cuts him off with a quick peck and says, "Promises are not always a bad thing, Matt."
Matt gives a little nod. His face feels flushed, like he's blushing, and he really hopes he isn't. In this light, Mohinder would see for sure. "It's just been a while since I've believed in them."
"Then have faith in me." Mohinder kisses him again and for the first time in a long while, Matt thinks that maybe -- just maybe -- he can trust this to work out.
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Date: 2007-10-27 10:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-27 12:10 pm (UTC)Thank you!
See, I was going to point to this icon and say, "That's them" but that doesn't really work. For characters, you've basically got Matt, a telepathic LA cop now working in NYC, and Mohinder, a ridiculously gorgeous genetics professor from India, who share a teeny-tiny apartment in Manhattan and have become foster parents to 10 year old Molly. THey're snarky and cute and domestic and it makes me all kinds of happy.
(Especially because any day now, people are going to post *actual* Curtainfic; it's that type of pairing. Sooner or later, there are going to be sotries about picking out curtains for Molly's room, you just know it.)
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Date: 2007-10-27 12:16 pm (UTC)Snarky and cute and domestic is just perfect.
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Date: 2007-10-27 12:29 pm (UTC)Smart girl! YOu wouldn't need any more background, since... well, that's about it. Plus, I'm all about the domestic fluff, and ignoring most of the plot.
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Date: 2007-10-27 02:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-27 02:33 pm (UTC)This was wonderful.
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Date: 2007-10-27 03:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-27 04:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-27 06:18 pm (UTC)I like (well, not LIKE exactly) the way you have Matt having learned to separate sex from intimacy, at least when it comes to men. And sort of trained himself not to expect too much, to the point where he got uncomfortable with the idea of more, or the idea of some kind of reciprocity. Having him be uncomfortable with talking about sex in a lit room was a nice touch, as was the idea that they'd done all this fuck buddy stuff and not kissed. Made me want to punch Dave in the mouth, but it also made sense. Provided good context for his same-sex experiences, given his personality and given that he's canonically been in a longterm relationship with a woman. Mohinder's canon is much more sexually ambiguous, which seems to give him the opportunity to be the one initiating emotional intimacy.
And I really, REALLY wanted to punch Dave in the mouth for having trained Matt to think sex was about servicing the other guy and then jerking himself off. Like he wasn't supposed to bother his partner with having to get him off or something. Then I remembered that Dave doesn't exist, not even as a fictional TV character, and thus doesn't have a mouth for punching purposes. And now I'm wondering if Matt's ever even been on the receiving end of a blowjob.
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Date: 2007-10-28 12:43 am (UTC)I was so happy Mohinder figured it all out, that he's smart enough to figure out what had been done to Matt and to get angry about it. I kind of want Dave to meet Matt's ridiculously beautiful new boyfriend and have his face rubbed in it.
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Date: 2007-10-28 07:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-28 07:15 am (UTC)2) Thank you. Because *I* find the idea hot as all hell.
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Date: 2007-10-28 07:16 am (UTC)I think sometimes he needs a bit of both!
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Date: 2007-10-28 07:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-28 09:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-28 12:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-28 03:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-28 10:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-28 10:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-28 10:51 pm (UTC)Unfortunately, he does. I mean, he's not perfect but he's a seriously *decent* guy who in no way deserves the amount of crap he gets. Luckily, Mohinder is a smart guy -- as long as it's not directly relating to dealing with his father's death, he's a very smart guy -- and has this solid, calming vibe to him that is a really good for Matt.
I kind of want Dave to meet Matt's ridiculously beautiful new boyfriend and have his face rubbed in it.
*laughs* Yes, I like that idea. Mind you, I have a feeling that Dave's enough of a total freakin' jerk to end up thinking *less* of Matt because Matt ended up with a boyfriend.
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Date: 2007-10-28 11:07 pm (UTC)Mohinder's canon is much more sexually ambiguous, which seems to give him the opportunity to be the one initiating emotional intimacy.
Well, we know that Mohinder had an ex-girlfriend, but he could have just as easily had ex-boyfriends in the past too. When I was writing this, I was partly thinking about the macho attitudes of cops and locker rooms, the idea of internalise homophobia combined with these odd concepts of what's masculine and okay, and what's "gay" and makes you a "fag". (In other words, beign sucked off is fine. Sucking off a buddy is fine, as long as you don't talk about it. Kissing a buddy would clearly make you less of a man and a source of derision.)
And I really, REALLY wanted to punch Dave in the mouth for having trained Matt to think sex was about servicing the other guy and then jerking himself off. Like he wasn't supposed to bother his partner with having to get him off or something. Then I remembered that Dave doesn't exist, not even as a fictional TV character, and thus doesn't have a mouth for punching purposes.
*laughs* I very much agree with you there. Even if he's only a character in a fic, he badly deserves a black-eye. Especially because I'm betting that Dave was the first/only guy that Matt had an ongoing thing with and when it ended (probably fizzled out about a month after Dave's girlfriend moved in), it left Matt blaming himself for *caring*, like it was his fault that Dave was a total jerk.
And now I'm wondering if Matt's ever even been on the receiving end of a blowjob.
*eyes glaze over* Hmmmmm...
That really is an... interesting thought. I bet it depends on how adventurous/non-vanilla he was in bed with Janice. Somehow, it wouldn't surprise me if he was the type of guy -- in bed, at least -- who's far more comfortable focusing on his partner than laying back and recieving the attention himself.
I'm sure that with time and practice, Mohinder could break him of that habit.
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Date: 2007-10-28 11:17 pm (UTC)Thank you! These two have become my new otp without me noticing. They're just so... sweetly domestic. And that does things to me.
Loved Mohinder's precise, scholarly English, as opposed to Matt's slightly less articulate colloquialisms.
"Precise, scholarly English" is the perfect way to describe Mohinder's speech patterns! I have to admit that a big part of me *loves* the way he speaks, the careful, considered feel of it.
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Date: 2007-10-29 03:53 am (UTC)Yes, precisely. Also, it's easy to buy him as semi-closeted due to cultural considerations and caution, but not deep in denial and internalised homophobia.
When I was writing this, I was partly thinking about the macho attitudes of cops and locker rooms, the idea of internalise homophobia combined with these odd concepts of what's masculine and okay, and what's "gay" and makes you a "fag". (In other words, beign sucked off is fine. Sucking off a buddy is fine, as long as you don't talk about it. Kissing a buddy would clearly make you less of a man and a source of derision.)
Well, that comes across loud and clear. Nicely detailed background characterisation in very few words.
*eyes glaze over* Hmmmmm...
That really is an... interesting thought. I bet it depends on how adventurous/non-vanilla he was in bed with Janice. Somehow, it wouldn't surprise me if he was the type of guy -- in bed, at least -- who's far more comfortable focusing on his partner than laying back and recieving the attention himself.
You know, I'd temporarily forgotten Janice's existence. I really need to stop doing that.
Yeah, okay, he's been on the receiving end. But it could always be something that was a far from regular feature of their sex life because it made him uncomfortable. If he had long since before Janice come to associate blowjobs with something he gave rather than something he got, then being on the receiving end from a woman could rapidly get weird for him, and make his internal compartmentalisation more difficult. I'm assuming that he wouldnt' be comfortable engaging in a sexual activity with his wife that constantly reminded him of his past same-sex experiences. Wouldn't fit his straight guy self-image.
Plus, if Janice approached it as something she was doing for him, rather than something she was doing because it was a surefire orgasm-inducer for her, that again would probably feel weird to him. Because part of his elaborate scaffolding of denial seems to be that oh, yeah, a straight guy can get off on giving oral sex to another guy. That's totally normal. He can't view it as a favour he's doing to someone else.
If he enjoys being on the receiving end, that brings into question why his previous same-sex partners never reciprocated (and part of the elaborate scaffolding seems to be a firm conviction that he wasn't being used). Also, he might start wondering why, if getting off on giving blowjobs is so normal for a straight guy, why his previous partners weren't eager to do so. If he thinks about it too much, the whole edifice gives way. So avoiding situatons where he'd have to think about it would make sense.
Okay, fine, I'm just totally enamoured of the notion that Matt has comparatively little experience in this department, and I want you to write it. So I'm searching desperately for plausible reasons why. Anyway, I don't want him to be TOO selfless. Yeah, it's definitely canon that his fragile sense of self worth can lead to him to getting into situations where he gets exploited. But he's also capable of being as self-absorbed as the next human being, at times.
I'm sure that with time and practice, Mohinder could break him of that habit.
Well, Mohinder is a very driven guy once he puts his mind to a problem. If he approached it in the spirit of scientific enquiry, I'm sure the results would be fairly mind-blowing.
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Date: 2007-10-29 06:22 am (UTC)...If he thinks about it too much, the whole edifice gives way. So avoiding situatons where he'd have to think about it would make sense.
Exactly. I have nothing to add, but you totally nailed it.
Okay, fine, I'm just totally enamoured of the notion that Matt has comparatively little experience in this department, and I want you to write it.
*laughs* As I was saying to
Yeah, it's definitely canon that his fragile sense of self worth can lead to him to getting into situations where he gets exploited. But he's also capable of being as self-absorbed as the next human being, at times.
*nods* And there's this whole impetuous anger thing that I've yet to truly figure out.
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Date: 2007-10-29 04:55 pm (UTC)