He hardly needed to be told what to do. Mohinder's there all ready, touch and thought pressing in against him from all sides. There was only Matt in that moment and every moment after, if he was lucky, would have Matt in it too. As orgasms go, it was fairly standard. Pleasure, release. It was all the parts that made up the before and the after that made the difference. Mohinder's heart beat a solid rhythm in his throat before his mind blacked with utter bliss.

For a full twenty seconds, there was no thought at all in the professor's head, not a peep. He arched upwards, his body responded as intended, and then he collapsed in a happy pile of Indian, breathing hard and eyelids peeling open.

He kissed Matt back almost shyly, hands in a lazy waltz from the back of his neck and into his hair. He needed a trim, now more than ever, though it gave him something to hold onto. As the American pulled away from him, Mohinder's lips burst into a smile. His whole face lights up.

"Brilliant," he whispers.