[couples_therapy] Allow
38.1: Allow
[Based on this thread. Daniel is buzz_me and used with permission.]
When Daniel touched him, that evening in the house in Colarado, Mohinder had felt the spark leap between them. All it had taken, on Daniel's part, was a lowered voice and a slight brush of fingertips, and Mohinder's mind had gone into meltdown. But, despite his body's innate reactions, he had played the good boy. He had laughed it off, and kept his distance. Kept to business. Because he already had somebody, somebody who cared for him and who he cared for in turn.
Bodies are easier to control than minds. He had held off, earlier, in the house... but now he is alone in his bed, back in New York, and he cannot stop his mind from wandering. He imagines how he would be feeling right now, if he had given in to temptation, allowed Daniel what he had seemed to have wanted. If he did not have Sylar to think about, would he have let something happen that night?
When he is honest with himself, the answer is yes. He would have followed Daniel's lead with hardly a second thought. Daniel was respectable, easily likeable. He can imagine their courtship, days together filled with laughter and smiles, and when the time was right, they could have announced their relationship to their friends with pride and love in their hearts. There would have been no need for the lies and deceit he has to currently endure with Sylar. Everyone would have been happy, to see him with Daniel.
His cheeks colour guiltily when he realises his own thoughts. He would never do that, not to Sylar. Their relationship may be far from conventional, far from easy, but it has also made Mohinder feel more loved and wanted than he has ever remembered. Despite everything Sylar stands for in the eyes of Mohinder's acquaintances, his own heart can feel nothing but adoration for the man. And yet...
He lets his mind wander again. Resting back against his pillows, he closes his eyes and imagines himself back in Daniel's living room, those fingers tracing his skin and that soft voice discussing the evolutionary potential in Mohinder's own research. He imagines giving in to what the other man so obviously wanted, imagines himself allowing that move closer, that first brush of lips.
Mohinder gasps, surprised by the vividness of his own imagination, almost feeling those lips against his, so different from how Sylar kisses. Far softer, far less needy.
They would have kissed there, in the empty room, for a while. Sat together on the sofa, hands and tongues exploring and tasting each other.
Mohinder groans at the thought, and with a guilty blush he lets his right hand slide under the covers and inside his pyjama bottoms, grasping his hardening cock and stroking the warm flesh.
Daniel would have been getting hard, too, and they would have decided to move themselves upstairs. Nobody would have noticed their absence, not for a short while. Daniel would have taken him by the hand, led him upstairs and into his bedroom. Mohinder had, of course, never seen the other man's bedroom, but he could imagine it. Bare and mismatched, just like the rest of the house, but the bed would have been large enough to accommodate them both comfortably. That's where they would have undressed each other, where they would have fallen together onto that old, creaky bed. They would have kissed for a while longer, before letting hands and lips roam to investigate newly exposed skin.
Mohinder's hand moves, faster, over his cock. Small pants escape him now.
Daniel would have taken him that night. Kissed his ear and promised him a night to remember, before pressing him down into his pillows and gently parting his legs. They would have had sex, gentle and exploratory, neither knowing what the other liked, but both wanting to please. It would have been easy for them to find a rhythm, find a pace that they could slip into together, like it had been made for them alone.
Mohinder bites back a groan as he comes, and he curses himself for making such a mess. The fantasy is lost to soiled bedsheets and sticky fingers, and he blushes all the more brightly. It had only been a fantasy, but somehow he felt just as guilty as if it had been a real memory. Even if he would never have allowed it.
[Based on this thread. Daniel is buzz_me and used with permission.]
When Daniel touched him, that evening in the house in Colarado, Mohinder had felt the spark leap between them. All it had taken, on Daniel's part, was a lowered voice and a slight brush of fingertips, and Mohinder's mind had gone into meltdown. But, despite his body's innate reactions, he had played the good boy. He had laughed it off, and kept his distance. Kept to business. Because he already had somebody, somebody who cared for him and who he cared for in turn.
Bodies are easier to control than minds. He had held off, earlier, in the house... but now he is alone in his bed, back in New York, and he cannot stop his mind from wandering. He imagines how he would be feeling right now, if he had given in to temptation, allowed Daniel what he had seemed to have wanted. If he did not have Sylar to think about, would he have let something happen that night?
When he is honest with himself, the answer is yes. He would have followed Daniel's lead with hardly a second thought. Daniel was respectable, easily likeable. He can imagine their courtship, days together filled with laughter and smiles, and when the time was right, they could have announced their relationship to their friends with pride and love in their hearts. There would have been no need for the lies and deceit he has to currently endure with Sylar. Everyone would have been happy, to see him with Daniel.
His cheeks colour guiltily when he realises his own thoughts. He would never do that, not to Sylar. Their relationship may be far from conventional, far from easy, but it has also made Mohinder feel more loved and wanted than he has ever remembered. Despite everything Sylar stands for in the eyes of Mohinder's acquaintances, his own heart can feel nothing but adoration for the man. And yet...
He lets his mind wander again. Resting back against his pillows, he closes his eyes and imagines himself back in Daniel's living room, those fingers tracing his skin and that soft voice discussing the evolutionary potential in Mohinder's own research. He imagines giving in to what the other man so obviously wanted, imagines himself allowing that move closer, that first brush of lips.
Mohinder gasps, surprised by the vividness of his own imagination, almost feeling those lips against his, so different from how Sylar kisses. Far softer, far less needy.
They would have kissed there, in the empty room, for a while. Sat together on the sofa, hands and tongues exploring and tasting each other.
Mohinder groans at the thought, and with a guilty blush he lets his right hand slide under the covers and inside his pyjama bottoms, grasping his hardening cock and stroking the warm flesh.
Daniel would have been getting hard, too, and they would have decided to move themselves upstairs. Nobody would have noticed their absence, not for a short while. Daniel would have taken him by the hand, led him upstairs and into his bedroom. Mohinder had, of course, never seen the other man's bedroom, but he could imagine it. Bare and mismatched, just like the rest of the house, but the bed would have been large enough to accommodate them both comfortably. That's where they would have undressed each other, where they would have fallen together onto that old, creaky bed. They would have kissed for a while longer, before letting hands and lips roam to investigate newly exposed skin.
Mohinder's hand moves, faster, over his cock. Small pants escape him now.
Daniel would have taken him that night. Kissed his ear and promised him a night to remember, before pressing him down into his pillows and gently parting his legs. They would have had sex, gentle and exploratory, neither knowing what the other liked, but both wanting to please. It would have been easy for them to find a rhythm, find a pace that they could slip into together, like it had been made for them alone.
Mohinder bites back a groan as he comes, and he curses himself for making such a mess. The fantasy is lost to soiled bedsheets and sticky fingers, and he blushes all the more brightly. It had only been a fantasy, but somehow he felt just as guilty as if it had been a real memory. Even if he would never have allowed it.