"You...want to touch me." Mohinder seemed baffled, though that might be because the drink was more or less causing him to lose little bits and pieces of conversation. He wasn't entirely sure about any of the goings on, alcohol absorbing words here and there. He wanted to be sure Matt had said that.

Most people wanted to be touched, not have things go the other way. Where did Matt come off being so... Wonderful? And how had Mohinder managed to steal a hold of him? It seemed blasphemous. But Mohinder itched for him more now than ever.

He gave Matt a little push to allow him to sit and once there, pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it...somewhere. He didn't quite know, nor care. Head to the pillows, his fingers moved to thick forearms. Feeling. Appraising.

"Have your touch. Touch all you'd care to."