Bridge
Title: Bridge
Author: jaune_chat
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Mohinder/Matt/Peter
Rating: Hard R
Word Count: 1,184
Spoilers: Up through 3x17, “Cold Wars”
Disclaimer Heroes belongs to Tim Kring, NBC et al.
Author’s Notes: Written for the YAHAKM, for the prompt, “Matt/Mohinder/Peter - Peter gets Matt/Mo to reconcile.” Rewriting part of “Cold Wars,” just go with it!
Summary: Peter can’t let his friends kill each other, no matter what.
“Don’t kill each other,” Peter said, before letting the door shut behind him. Matt and Mohinder expected him to go complete his errand to Bennet’s storage facility, but Peter wasn’t going to leave before he was certain he wouldn’t come back to a bloodbath. He waited, and sure enough, less than five minutes later, there was an unholy racket from inside the room.
Barging back inside, the place was a wreck, mirrors smashed, counter off the wall, sink cracked, and Mohinder pinning Matt to the floor, both of them screaming at each other. Peter did the only obvious thing that he could to help; grab the medical kit and give Bennet another injection to knock him out, because the last thing they needed was him getting free while Peter tried to sort out his friends. The screaming fight would last at least that long.
Bennet quickly slumped into unconsciousness, and Peter threw himself into the fray. Mohinder pulled back, sorrow and shame plain on his face, while Matt looked betrayed and frustrated to the point of violence.
“Stop it, both of you!” Peter yelled, putting out his hands to push between them. Both stumbled to their feet, and Peter kept himself in the middle, arms outstretched to keep them away from each other. “What the hell is going on? We didn’t come here for this.”
“He knew!” Matt thundered, his voice cracking. “Bennet told Mohinder what was going on weeks before this all started.”
“I didn’t believe him!” Mohinder protested, his voice strained. “I wasn’t talking to anyone, and I didn’t believe anything Bennet told me was true!”
“Are you two insane?” Peter asked, turning his head to look at one, than the other. Mohinder was deliberately not pushing the issue, but Matt looked about five seconds from trying to punch him in the face. He couldn’t let them start fighting again; someone would start pounding on their door to shut them up, and Peter didn’t think they could explain a tied-up, drugged man in a chair so easily.
Matt wasn’t ready to listen to reason, and lunged for Mohinder again. Peter tried to stop him, one hand on Matt’s chest, the other on Mohinder’s, thinking of nothing but trying to keep them from hurting each other. Those two had been close friends, even lovers before Matt had encountered Peter’s future self, before Mohinder had discovered what he thought was his life’s goal and all its subsequent problems, before Daphne…
As Peter’s hand contacted both of their flesh, all three of them charged with a heavy weight of emotions, Peter’s power attempted to compensate, trying to draw both powers at once and not quite succeeding. The incomplete mix sparked through both Matt and Mohinder, Peter’s misfiring power making him a bridge, as waves of telepathy and strength surged through all three of them.
Mohinder’s mouth dropped open, his lips forming the name, “Daphne,” as everything she meant to Matt hit him. Peter understood it at the same time Matt saw it from an outsider’s perspective, how Mohinder, absent and increasingly drawn into his own personal hell, had left Matt alone. How Daphne’s love had been drawn from the future to fill that void, and how Matt had given all he had to her, because there was no one else to give it to.
I left him alone, Mohinder thought, and with that came a crushing weight of self-loathing.
Another spark, another wave, and Matt shuddered. “Mohinder, why did you do that to yourself?” Now Peter, and through him, Mohinder could see everything through Matt’s eyes. How Mohinder, desperate to prove himself to be worth something, had found the one thing he was certain could justify everything he’d done in his life. How everything had gone so wrong, and every step he took just made things worse. And stopping himself would be to admit failure. How Matt had been looking for his father, and just hadn’t been there to talk sense into his head…
I left him alone, Matt’s thought echoed through all three, a stark feeling of panic and failure flooding him.
The nearly-suicidal feelings were battering Peter from both sides, and he could feel that Mohinder’s strength was underlying them all. Trying to grasp that, Peter kept contact, grasping their arms, and stepped sideways, pulling the two face-to-face.
“You’re not alone now,” Peter said.
Matt and Mohinder stared at each other, powers crackling crazily between all of them, staring as if too frightened to move. Peter knew he couldn’t take much more of this, and tried a move out of desperation. He leaned in and kissed them, first Matt, then Mohinder, lightly, almost teasing. Both shivered under his touch, and Peter tried to grasp Matt’s telepathy more firmly.
Everything was screwed up, but you’re together now. Please, stop fighting… Peter begged. He didn’t push but tried to let them see everything they’d been missing, everything they were throwing away because of misunderstandings and bad choices.
Peter blinked, and now Matt and Mohinder were crushed into each other’s embrace, mouths moving on each other, tongues dueling back and forth, the passion rising off of both of them practically enough to melt Peter’s mind. He gasped, the thoughts coming from both sides potent enough to nearly floor him as Matt and Mohinder suddenly swept him into their intimate embrace.
Nearly forgetting how to breathe, crushed as he was between two men both with flashes of super-strength, he almost missed their hands on him, Mohinder’s long fingers delving under his shirt to delicately flick over his nipples, and Matt’s larger hand easily palming Peter’s hardness through his pants. It didn’t take more than a few seconds, bombarded as he was with erotic imagery from both sides, and Peter gave a silent scream as his body climaxed hard.
Peter shoved himself away from both of them out of a sense of self-preservation, heart pounding so hard it seemed ready to burst, and they seemed to understand. Matt and Mohinder stood there easily now, side-by-side, hands roaming over each other absently, as if re-learning something they’d forgotten. After several long moments, Peter had recovered enough to speak, and made a surprising discovery.
“I can still fly,” he said in awe. Mohinder’s lips twitched in humor.
“You didn’t exactly get a clean shot with either of us. It makes sense your power would retain your last clear impression.”
Matt smiled at Mohinder’s pedantic explanation. “Thank you,” he said simply.
“Don’t mention it,” Peter gasped. “So… if I go now, are you two going to be ok?”
“More than ok. Peter-,” Matt started, but Peter cut him off.
“Matt, we kinda still have a guy tied to a chair, so maybe we can discuss this later?” Peter asked, suddenly torn between the information they desperately needed to survive, and a potent experience that he wasn’t sure if he could survive again, but devoutly wanted to.
“Much later. In detail. Go, we’ll keep going with Bennet,” Mohinder promised.
Peter nodded and left the room, flinging himself into sky, feeling like they’d managed to win at least one battle in this war.
Author: jaune_chat
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Mohinder/Matt/Peter
Rating: Hard R
Word Count: 1,184
Spoilers: Up through 3x17, “Cold Wars”
Disclaimer Heroes belongs to Tim Kring, NBC et al.
Author’s Notes: Written for the YAHAKM, for the prompt, “Matt/Mohinder/Peter - Peter gets Matt/Mo to reconcile.” Rewriting part of “Cold Wars,” just go with it!
Summary: Peter can’t let his friends kill each other, no matter what.
“Don’t kill each other,” Peter said, before letting the door shut behind him. Matt and Mohinder expected him to go complete his errand to Bennet’s storage facility, but Peter wasn’t going to leave before he was certain he wouldn’t come back to a bloodbath. He waited, and sure enough, less than five minutes later, there was an unholy racket from inside the room.
Barging back inside, the place was a wreck, mirrors smashed, counter off the wall, sink cracked, and Mohinder pinning Matt to the floor, both of them screaming at each other. Peter did the only obvious thing that he could to help; grab the medical kit and give Bennet another injection to knock him out, because the last thing they needed was him getting free while Peter tried to sort out his friends. The screaming fight would last at least that long.
Bennet quickly slumped into unconsciousness, and Peter threw himself into the fray. Mohinder pulled back, sorrow and shame plain on his face, while Matt looked betrayed and frustrated to the point of violence.
“Stop it, both of you!” Peter yelled, putting out his hands to push between them. Both stumbled to their feet, and Peter kept himself in the middle, arms outstretched to keep them away from each other. “What the hell is going on? We didn’t come here for this.”
“He knew!” Matt thundered, his voice cracking. “Bennet told Mohinder what was going on weeks before this all started.”
“I didn’t believe him!” Mohinder protested, his voice strained. “I wasn’t talking to anyone, and I didn’t believe anything Bennet told me was true!”
“Are you two insane?” Peter asked, turning his head to look at one, than the other. Mohinder was deliberately not pushing the issue, but Matt looked about five seconds from trying to punch him in the face. He couldn’t let them start fighting again; someone would start pounding on their door to shut them up, and Peter didn’t think they could explain a tied-up, drugged man in a chair so easily.
Matt wasn’t ready to listen to reason, and lunged for Mohinder again. Peter tried to stop him, one hand on Matt’s chest, the other on Mohinder’s, thinking of nothing but trying to keep them from hurting each other. Those two had been close friends, even lovers before Matt had encountered Peter’s future self, before Mohinder had discovered what he thought was his life’s goal and all its subsequent problems, before Daphne…
As Peter’s hand contacted both of their flesh, all three of them charged with a heavy weight of emotions, Peter’s power attempted to compensate, trying to draw both powers at once and not quite succeeding. The incomplete mix sparked through both Matt and Mohinder, Peter’s misfiring power making him a bridge, as waves of telepathy and strength surged through all three of them.
Mohinder’s mouth dropped open, his lips forming the name, “Daphne,” as everything she meant to Matt hit him. Peter understood it at the same time Matt saw it from an outsider’s perspective, how Mohinder, absent and increasingly drawn into his own personal hell, had left Matt alone. How Daphne’s love had been drawn from the future to fill that void, and how Matt had given all he had to her, because there was no one else to give it to.
I left him alone, Mohinder thought, and with that came a crushing weight of self-loathing.
Another spark, another wave, and Matt shuddered. “Mohinder, why did you do that to yourself?” Now Peter, and through him, Mohinder could see everything through Matt’s eyes. How Mohinder, desperate to prove himself to be worth something, had found the one thing he was certain could justify everything he’d done in his life. How everything had gone so wrong, and every step he took just made things worse. And stopping himself would be to admit failure. How Matt had been looking for his father, and just hadn’t been there to talk sense into his head…
I left him alone, Matt’s thought echoed through all three, a stark feeling of panic and failure flooding him.
The nearly-suicidal feelings were battering Peter from both sides, and he could feel that Mohinder’s strength was underlying them all. Trying to grasp that, Peter kept contact, grasping their arms, and stepped sideways, pulling the two face-to-face.
“You’re not alone now,” Peter said.
Matt and Mohinder stared at each other, powers crackling crazily between all of them, staring as if too frightened to move. Peter knew he couldn’t take much more of this, and tried a move out of desperation. He leaned in and kissed them, first Matt, then Mohinder, lightly, almost teasing. Both shivered under his touch, and Peter tried to grasp Matt’s telepathy more firmly.
Everything was screwed up, but you’re together now. Please, stop fighting… Peter begged. He didn’t push but tried to let them see everything they’d been missing, everything they were throwing away because of misunderstandings and bad choices.
Peter blinked, and now Matt and Mohinder were crushed into each other’s embrace, mouths moving on each other, tongues dueling back and forth, the passion rising off of both of them practically enough to melt Peter’s mind. He gasped, the thoughts coming from both sides potent enough to nearly floor him as Matt and Mohinder suddenly swept him into their intimate embrace.
Nearly forgetting how to breathe, crushed as he was between two men both with flashes of super-strength, he almost missed their hands on him, Mohinder’s long fingers delving under his shirt to delicately flick over his nipples, and Matt’s larger hand easily palming Peter’s hardness through his pants. It didn’t take more than a few seconds, bombarded as he was with erotic imagery from both sides, and Peter gave a silent scream as his body climaxed hard.
Peter shoved himself away from both of them out of a sense of self-preservation, heart pounding so hard it seemed ready to burst, and they seemed to understand. Matt and Mohinder stood there easily now, side-by-side, hands roaming over each other absently, as if re-learning something they’d forgotten. After several long moments, Peter had recovered enough to speak, and made a surprising discovery.
“I can still fly,” he said in awe. Mohinder’s lips twitched in humor.
“You didn’t exactly get a clean shot with either of us. It makes sense your power would retain your last clear impression.”
Matt smiled at Mohinder’s pedantic explanation. “Thank you,” he said simply.
“Don’t mention it,” Peter gasped. “So… if I go now, are you two going to be ok?”
“More than ok. Peter-,” Matt started, but Peter cut him off.
“Matt, we kinda still have a guy tied to a chair, so maybe we can discuss this later?” Peter asked, suddenly torn between the information they desperately needed to survive, and a potent experience that he wasn’t sure if he could survive again, but devoutly wanted to.
“Much later. In detail. Go, we’ll keep going with Bennet,” Mohinder promised.
Peter nodded and left the room, flinging himself into sky, feeling like they’d managed to win at least one battle in this war.