seekevolution | The Storm

"Perhaps he'd rather have pretty young things do his talking," Mohinder said, not finding anything suspicious. He so rarely did. It was an admirable and likely his most poignantly stupid asset. How he managed through life was impossible to guess, though before Sylar, before New York, he'd be entirely too bookish to care about the world around him.

Research, there'd only been research.

Now there was fear and love and a little girl and revenge and a deep seated exhaustion in his very bones that didn't let him think through the oddity of Arthur never really appearing anywhere, always calling people up to the seventh floor.

"Large companies have people that do the talking for them. They're much too busy and likely not the sort to be good at speaking, not even prepared statements." Which brought him back to Tabitha. "I'm not sure he'll give a speech. As much as I like to talk, neither will I. But you're brilliant, Tabitha. You are. You'll do quite a lot of good in the world."

Well you certainly fit the bill Matt thought idly at him while keeping his eyes on the TV. Because now he was watching it a little more intently after Molly's observation. And it was a good way to feign innocence.

Tabitha was flattered by the praise but still seemed a little disappointed at Mohinder for not wanting to take a more visibly active stance. She was still smiling, though. She was an upbeat one and after you'd finally managed a cure to what might've been a global outbreak with a near-complete fatality rate, you had every right to look happy.

"Thanks, doc. You too. I mean, you already have, but you know." She grinned at him and stood. "I heard there's cake in the cafeteria, you guys should come get some. Okay, not so much cake, but goodies."

Molly gave her a smile and Matt tousled Molly's hair a bit a what she was thinking. "I'll see if I can lure him", he added to Tabitha, because really, she wasn't so bad. "Thanks for the heads up."

She wasn't so bad at all, just bright eyed and bad in groups and a little awkward, just like Mohinder himself. No wonder she looked up to him. He was more than just a mentor. She hoped to be like him some day, though he did scoff at saving the world.

"The grace of being born with my blood does not mean I should be praised like that," he called after her retreating form, and she just laughed, making an eating sort of pantomime and sending a little smilie face text to his phone.

That surprised him. She had been modest when he mentioned Arthur finding him when she could do it herself through data. A rather impressive ability really. It would have complimented Molly's well.

It wasn't Matt that got Mohinder out of the lounge and into the cafeteria, it was a toothy grinning eleven year old hoping that goodies still equalled cake because it had been a long time since she'd had such a thing and oh! She wanted it!

It hadn't been a long time at all, Matt chided her, since she'd had ice cream just that morning. Molly said that that didn't count since it wasn't cake.

Matt had to concede the point.

Turned out there wasn't much cake-cake, all frosting and cream and sponge-cake the way Molly probably hoped for, but someone had taken it upon themselves to bake a chocolate cake and a pie and the ice cream that was around was also on the table along with some fruit and crackers.

And wine, for the adults. Celebratory.

It was a small party, more a glorified break area really. People were still going between work stations and whatnot, momentarily disappearing only toreappear half an hour or an hour later. There was still a lot of work to be done and to keep an eye on.

Matt kept mostly to the background. It was a huge organisation builing and so it wasn't difficult to blend in as such, but on occasion people looked at him twice either because they didn't recognise him or because they did.

Oh well, he stuck with Mohinder.

... and had the sudden thought that Mohinder both absolutely should and absolutely shouldn't be eating some of that ice cream Molly had her eye on, even if she surprised both of them by going for the crackers first.

Perhaps not ice cream, but wine? Mohinder certainly wanted the wine. He was not a drinker by nature but one by need. Relaxation seemed an important part of this celebration and tea could only do so much. He was three glasses in when he scaled the far table and a cry of the others rose up with him, and just as shakey.

"Speech!" someone called -- Tabitha, actually, putting on a male voice to the amusement of her cohorts. "Speech!" the echo came, in much the same and exaggerated way.

"All right, all right," Mohinder said, bow legged and still clutching a little plastic cup of red liquid. "When I came to this country, my first thought? It smelled. Horribly." Laughter met him. "But then I realised it was just New York and not the New Yorkers!"

He couldn't manage body boarding. Table surfing? He'd wipe out soon enough.

"But now... I have a very American family whom I love very, very much. I would have been nothing without them. Nearly was, really. Bit of a danger to myself if you'd believe that. So while the virus is named after my sister, the inoculation is named for the first girl I cured. Molly!"

"That's a drug already, doc!" someone replied.

"And what a lovely drug that is," Mohinder agreed... Matt, help a man out before he broke an arm.

"And illegal!" Matt pointed out with half a laugh. Drunk Mohinder really was a sight to behold, but not always a pretty one. Figuratively speaking. Molly was fixing him with a skeptical look while Matt was torn between exasperation and amusement, but either way he did move up to offer Mohinder a hand.

"Come on, buddy, before you turn into a danger to the food. And everyone else."

There was some more laughter, because as much as most people there knew and liked Mohinder, it was clear to everyone that he coudn't have a very high alcohol tolerance. Matt rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner to entertain them a bit further, but even as he caught Mohinder's wrist he didn't do anything to actively show that he was part of this very American family of which Mohinder spoke. Even if several people had already figured, or were at least suspecting.

Many had seen them sitting very close together. Had seen Matt nuzzle at Mohinder's hair. It hardly mattered. Heroes could be felled for many reasons, but as the drink was doing it all ready, that Mohinder might had a male companion didn't matter. As Matt helped him off the table, Mohinder leaned against his arm and nearly tripped over himself. No matter. Everyone deserved to drink after the last week...the last month. They'd all been working so very hard.

Matt would have to whisk Mohinder and their daughter away, though a woman with hair so bleached it had turned white came out of no where at the elevators. "Um. Hi," she said, clutching a crayon box and some activity books. The things she did for her boss. "Uh, my name's Daphne. I know you don't know me or anything but I use to be a nanny. If you wanted to get your friend to bed, I could watch your daughter for a little while--"

Molly knew Daphne. She'd played with her from time to time when Mohinder had to work exceedingly long hours. She'd help get them out of Atlanta. The girl even smiled at her. "She's like us, Matt," she said, and Mohinder drunkenly nodded.

"Super shp-- Wait. What's the English word for speed?" Yep. Nap time.

"Speed", Matt deadpanned with a hand to Mohinder's shoulder. Standing? Standing. Awesome. He turned more fully towards Daphne, feeling skeptical.

Daphne had a smile that was very crooked, something Matt found both a little charming and kind of unnerving. It was the kind people held over other people. But Molly was relaxed and even a little excited since super speed was really pretty cool and Daphne was probably the closest to her age in the entire facility after Tabitha.

But still, she was a stranger to Matt.

"It's okay!" Molly said like she too was a mind reader and went right over to Daphne, standing on her toes to look at what she was holding. "Do you have the one about the horses?"

It was that level of familiarity that had Matt finally relent, but he still didn't quite like it. Daphne tilted her head at him sort of expectantly and he gestured vaguely ather.

"Yeah, fine. Tell me where you're staying, I'll pick her up. Deal?"

Daphne leaned back on her feet, then sort of bounced that movement around so she was balancing more on her toes, and she gave up the floor number. "It's the rec room", she said, shrugging. "Lot smaller than this one. Can't miss it, though."

After Mohinder also conceded his okay, they were gone so quickly in a rush of wind that worried Matt even more, but he sighed and moved his hand up Mohinder's back as he went for the elevator.

"Are you always this hopeless around alcohol?" he said in a murmur. He'd had like, a half drink himself, and was only barely fuzzy around the edges.

"I don't drink," Mohinder slurred. And that was rightly true enough, though there was a time on his mind when he did drink and he'd fallen into bed with a younger, blonder, blue eyed version of Matt when he himself was so much younger too. Twenty had been a good year, a very good year, even if Paul hadn't stayed, hadn't been all that interested in him.

He'd given him the thumb ring that Mohinder had long since lost and didn't even care anymore. He'd given Mohinder many things and moved on when the younger man grew boring.

He'd not been with a man since, though he'd been attracted to Sylar. Though Matt had given him all the reason in the world to try again.

And Mohinder couldn't be happier for it.

"Molly's gone for a bit," he whispered, hardly alone in the hall as he cornered -- well, stumbled against -- Matt by the doors to the lift. "You. And me. And an elephant. How's that?"

Matt shot a look at the other people occupying the hall, but he flushed slightly when he looked back at Mohinder and grabbed him by one arm to help keep him standing. And at a slight distance. Look, people could have them as figured out as they wanted, that didn't mean they had to be all over each other in public.

Although as his eyes drifted to the elevator it struck him that that ship had already sailed.

"I, uh - let's not involve the elephant." Otherwise it sounded fine. It did.

The elevator pinged and two people stepped out and another person stepped in on the floor directly above them, and Matt still kept Mohinder at arm's length (so to speak) for the time being. He was ridiculous, really. All sway and unsteadiness but he still had the typical shine in his eyes, the one that came from having - in his opinion - an excellent idea and the determination to pursue it.

It made Matt a little hot and bothered.

Especially when they got out of the elevator and after a moment's struggle with the lock into the apartment and Matt was free to dip his head to Mohinder's neck to work on his throat, making it almost exactly where he'd left off that morning.

No one wanted to see any couple hang on each other in public, so Matt's stance was certainly fine and Mohinder, when sober, wouldn't mind at all. He didn't mind much of anything at the moment, longing only for Matt's hands on bare skin. Oh, he did want it so very badly. As lips touched his neck, Mohinder's hands casually slid up Matt's t-shirt covered chest and then moved away, drawing him towards the bed in the corner of the tiny room.

The elephant, thankfully, was in with Molly's things, not to be heard from on this particular endeavor. No one needed those eyes watching them, silently imprinting their images in the reflection of the glaze that coated the plastic.

Mohinder might have some kink to him, but that was not it.

Luckily, Matt was there to catch them both when Mohinder decided to get pushy and they collapsed together in a controlled fall to the mattress, both men entwined. Mohinder kicked off Matt's shoes for him -- a talent if there ever was one -- and tried to get his hands down the back of Matt's trousers.

It'd been awhile for them both. Sure, Matt had gotten off 'yesterday' but that didn't mean he wasn't good for another go around now.

And Mohinder might prove to be good for Matt's test of stamina.

Matt was momentarily caught off guard by the fall but he was quick to adapt and moreover, quick to agree with the idea of lying down. And yeah, this was still different, still new, something Matt was very aware of when he worked a hand beneath Mohinder's shirt to place to his ribs and again felt the angles to be found there rather than the softer curves he was used to.

Even more new was that it didn't really matter. It mattered insofar that he wasn't entirely sure what was expected of him from a theoretical standpoint and what that meant but honestly, after a month of living in a contained apocalypse and after having raised a girl together and after having kissed a hundred times and it not nearly being enough, it really didn't matter at all.

Besides, that one kink was more or less erased from the cool thing about being able to hear people's thoughts. Matt kept his own in tune to Mohinder's when he moved in to kiss him, moving to lean a little on his elbow to come in at an angle, all open mouth and tongue.

And when there was the undercurrent of wanting to be closer there Matt easily complied, shifting to let Mohinder reach around him more easily and oh, Mohinder was all about something new, wasn't he - no one had really grabbed for Matt like that before and that was seriously arousing. So Matt kissed him harder, pressing his fingers gently but firmly into Mohinder's side.

Mohinder had planned. Matt was back only a day and they'd scarcely spent any time apart, but in that time, he'd planned for just this moment. He'd never thought it might come so soon, he'd never thought to ask Daphne to watch over their daughter for them for this but oh, laying there with his leg between Matt's and his hands cupping hot flesh, he's so very pleased to have not been idle.

Safe sex was a must. He knew Matt's blood inside and out but on the off chance that something might well be transmitted, and hadn't been all ready through the elevator experience, he'd insist on a condom. There was a twelve pack under the sheets where Molly would never find them. Beside it, medical grade personal lubrication.

It'd been awhile for him, but considering Matt's prior tastes, for the next little while at least, Mohinder assumed himself the receiving partner. Lubrication, therefore, was far more of a necessity.

He'd seen Matt naked before, washed him, cared for him while he was recovering. Even before he'd had him in his mouth, therefore, he was well aware of the size he'd been dealing with. A good, hefty size at that. It suited it's owner. Let Matt kiss him, and Mohinder did his part to kiss back, but his mind was on the use of the items he'd squirreled away.

With a connection open between them, it would smack Matt in the face.

Did it ever, and it had Matt recoil somewhat in order to stare down at Mohinder for a short moment. Then he covered his eyes with a hand in silent laughter - maybe embarrassment played a part as well - before he recovered and leant down to kiss Mohinder again. Slower this time, while he moved his other hand flat over the other man's stomach.

He was smiling in a manner that seemed a mix of shy and exasperated when he broke away again to look Mohinder in the eyes.

"Gotcha", he said, cause yeah, he'd gotten it loud and clear. "We'll- we'll get to that. Let me just, uh ... touch you first. For a while. Deal?"

Mohinder had a habit of coming on strong. Matt was getting used to that, but he still needed a moment to find his ground here, because once again he hadn't even been thinking that far. That Mohinder had was flattering and quite arousing in its own right but also slightly scary.

"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."

"I- yeah."

The look Matt gave him probably said something along the lines of, why does that surprise you? And look, Matt wasn't the most suave guy on the planet and he was treading new water here but after everything, how could he not want to touch Mohinder? How could anyone not want to touch him, for that matter?

Just look at him.

And Matt looked, when he was momentarily pushed away and the shirt came off. He kept looking as muscles moved beneath dark skin when the shirt was balled up and thrown away, and he looked even more when Mohinder lied down and ... what? Practically presented himself to him, that's what.

Matt's mouth felt a bit dry and he swallowed because he had no idea what to answer to that, but he settled over Mohinder's thighs, one knee on either side, and reached out. Ran his hands up the younger man's abs, his chest, brushing briefly over his nipples as he just looked and listened because he'd go almost anywhere Mohinder's mind wanted him to go.

Seeing Mohinder move beneath his hands, squirm and breathe, that was fucking beautiful.

And there was surely more beauty where that came from. It hung off of him, drunk as he was, careless with himself as he might be, like silk. Mohinder's charm was effortless, almost unweildy. He pushed and he fought and he struggled and all the while, he never once changed that aspect of himself because it was hardwired into his DNA. It was why people risked so much for him sometimes, why he wasn't left his own devices to suffer more than he did. People understood charisma.

Even if Mohinder didn't realise that he had the power, power beyond power, to wield it. Thankfully. The world might not be able to take that.

So Matt was allowed to touch him and Mohinder directed him with whimpers and sighs and dirty thoughts until he was laid bare and dark on clean white sheets. He pressed upward against warm palms, a splash of dark curls to match those on his head resting beneath his belly. He stretched like a cat, taut muscle moving against fingers, aching.

He'd never minded being a prize.

Very few people ever treated him like one though.

Matt wasn't thinking in those terms, but they were apt even if he would argue the partial selfishness behind the actions. Because while he absolutely loved seeing Mohinder shudder in pleasure and listening to the little noises he made there was something incredibly thrilling in knowing he was the one coaxing all that out of him, too.

It wasn't a calm exploration for all that long partially because of that. Mostly because of the way Mohinder was thinking at him. It had gotten fairly hot in the room by the time Matt was using his hands to actually try to hold Mohinder somewhat still while he kissed a line along his torso, small but sucking kisses just because he could, because Mohinder's mental urging made him all the more confident.

When he came back up to his neck he kissed his throat thoroughly before he went for his mouth again, running his tongue over Mohinder's lower lip to tease him into opening his mouth for him. He was doing this lying partially on top of him but he was leaning on one hand to keep some space between them. The other sought its way down to experimentally palm Mohinder through his jeans.

Certainly different from a woman, Mohinder would absolutely give that to Matt, but different didn't have to mean inferior. Unlike with a woman, there was a certain understanding of how things went. Matt knew what he likes and while it couldn't translate exactly, it went further than a touch to a woman could go without a great deal of practice.

Mohinder could only direct partially. He was having trouble unmuddling his thoughts, though as time passed, as he was kissed and kissed back fiercely, the alcohol left his system. His thoughts might be incoherent at times, but this was very clear: Mohinder wanted skin against his skin.

Teenager might prefer to rut against their clothing, but comparing Matt's hand to the zipper his erection struggled behind, he'd take the hand any day.

Matt couldn't care less about the way Mohinder's thoughts all ran together, fractured and incomplete and then suddenly crystal. This was what it sounded like when he'd first told Mohinder he was thinking tired, this kind of unfocus, the slipping of control. Matt liked listening to that since it was another thing he was doing to him.

Besides, if it had been all direction, he thought it wouldn't have been nearly as enjoyable for either of them.

Matt was straining against his own jeans by the time he leaned back to breathe for a second. He kept his hand pressed to Mohinder's crotch, weighing down a little just to cause friction and pressure, to see what kind of effect that'd have. A somewhat frustrating one by the looks of it, and there was another quiet laugh when Matt answered simply, "Okay."

He moved back a bit to undo the button and pull down the zipper and then he reached past Mohinder's underwear to pull him out, taking a breath as he watched his own actions. It wasn't scary, just new, and he pulled once along the length, slowly, just to get a sense for it from this angle. Not to mention a sense for it with this person.

One of the things Nohinder really did love about Matt was the way the other man could respond to a half formed thought. He'd done it so often on trivial matters, like picking up milk on the way home from work or seeing to Molly when something made her sad to fix it with a hug. Wile some might see it as a cheat, Mohinder found it to be a blessing.

He rolled his hips upwards at the touch and begged for more. Matt's hands were large and masterful. You can't have a dick for nearly forty years and not know what to do with it. Sure, Mohinder was different, more slender, darker, but the principal was the same.

For Matt, under his hands, his lover danced for him, writhing in all of the bliss that his inner rhythm mastered the first time he'd taken to bed with anyone.

Matt, however, is not just 'another.' Mohinder's wine addled brain is wholly focused on him and this moment and what it means.

Matt aims for romance.

And Mohinder's never had that before. Passion tends to trump it usually. This is beautiful and new.

Maybe there was merit in thinking of it a little as a game. Not in a bad or a malicious way, nothing like that, but just the balancing act of riding Mohinder's thoughts and trying to match them in reality. Matt enjoyed doing it, loved the little sounds he could get from the younger man sometimes almost before he'd fully realized what it was he wanted. Matt didn't think of it as cheating, either. It was just a way of showing that heat and softer warmth between them. It was a way of treating Mohinder like he deserved to be treated.

He worked him with his hand, alternating strokes and pace and touches, sometimes abandoning him for a moment to move his palms over his hips or stomach. Maybe he did have a teasing streak after all but mostly because he could read how it'd make Mohinder squirm and arc into him even more when he came back.

He liked that. He liked that a lot.

After a while he came up closer again, still stroking Mohinder, faster now, and kissed just beneath his jaw (scratchy from stubble, Matt didn't mind) all while thinking gently, come on.

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.

That was a very long moment of mental silence but there was something almost easy and natural in it, and Matt watched as Mohinder's muscles seemed to give out and he sank into the bed.

Well. He'd done that. Go, team.

He smiled a bit in the lull, feeling good about that and enjoying the younger man laid out on the bed like that, all breath and a slight sheen of sweat. He wiped his hand on the sheets as he sat back. It was when he caught Mohinder smiling at him like that, so utterly brightly, that Matt ducked his head a little. He wasn't usually called brilliant or anything like it regardless of what talent was discussed. Hell, people didn't really look at him like that, so he just kind of laughed slightly again, not sure how else to react.

Well, other than to kiss him again, obviously. Which he did because he wanted to. Moving in to half-lie, half-lean over Mohinder, he kissed him. Almost shyly. They had that in common in that moment.

Nothing like good old butterflies to show for falling in love, right?

"Yeah", he said, and didn't really mean himself. "Yeah, that's a good word."

The drink more or less finished with him, sleepiness in his eyes, Mohinder struggles to turn to his side to keep from being lulled to sleep by warmth, but comfort. As much as those things were what he wanted, he was an attentive lover. Matt ought to be rewarded. His mouth again. A hand. He could give him more than that too, now that he himself was satisfied.

What did Matt want? Mohinder was more than just a pretty face with high ideals. He was an adept lover and he wanted to prove it.

Naked skin pressed against cloth, Mohinder stretched like a cat against the other man, moving to finish the job he'd started when they came to rest in bed, before Matt insisted on being the one to touch. To examine.

Mohinder felt worshiped. He declined, however, to mention that.

Instead, he offered his mouth and his throat and his teeth to worry pale flesh of Matt's throat. He offered his hands. His body. "Let me please you." He sounded like a bad porn, but he was serious. Maybe that made it worse.

The Storm

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Well fuck me. This reply must have been eaten!

seems that way!

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