It'd been awhile since Matt touched him like this, stroked his hair, gazed at him without that hardness in his eyes from the horrors of New York, or smiled quite like that. Mohinder always liked the puppy look on Matt, the way that smile use to make his heart race. It still did even now and Mohinder leaned in towards him.
The cut on his throat would scar, likely, the way the blade had drew across his skin, the way it was healing. It had bled for a long time and he'd yet to clean it properly. Probably too late now. He'd just taken some antibiotics and been done with it. Vanity suited Mohinder with his hair but little else and Matt's careful administrations made up for any other small moments of disbelief that he could be even remotely attractive to the object of his affection.
Mohinder had something to say too.
Something that eight months might actually have been just a little short to say but people say it all the time and after so much less.
"I love you," he whispered, emotion all in his eyes. Matt didn't need to say anything else, but the Indian needed him to know how he felt before anything else could possibly happen to them.
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The cut on his throat would scar, likely, the way the blade had drew across his skin, the way it was healing. It had bled for a long time and he'd yet to clean it properly. Probably too late now. He'd just taken some antibiotics and been done with it. Vanity suited Mohinder with his hair but little else and Matt's careful administrations made up for any other small moments of disbelief that he could be even remotely attractive to the object of his affection.
Mohinder had something to say too.
Something that eight months might actually have been just a little short to say but people say it all the time and after so much less.
"I love you," he whispered, emotion all in his eyes. Matt didn't need to say anything else, but the Indian needed him to know how he felt before anything else could possibly happen to them.