Cupid
Title: Cupid
Author: jaune_chat
Fandoms: Heroes
Characters/Pairings: Matt/Mohinder
Rating: R
Wordcount: 1,273
Spoilers: Through the end of S3
Warnings: Slash, wing!fic, crack, and abuse of the scientific method
Disclaimer: Heroes belongs to Tim Kring, NBC et al.
A/N: Written for kethni’s Valentine’s Matt-a-thon for the prompt: “Matt/Mohinder - wing!fic.”
Summary: And accident ends up with Matt and Mohinder having a very appropriately themed Valentine’s Day.
“You have got to be kidding me!” Matt roared.
Mohinder had the grace to blush and wince, but not to run for his life, which just made Matt angrier. Stopping by your boyfriend’s lab should not run the risk of being doused with untested genetic mutation formulas, but that was precisely what had happened. Three days ago, Matt had stopped by with Chinese food for Mohinder during one of his all-night research binges. When he’d tried to find a safe place to put the containers, Mohinder had unexpectedly popped out from his office, scaring the living daylights out of Matt. He’d stepped back in surprise, accidentally knocked over some equipment, which has ended up flinging a beaker of some red liquid all over him, soaking him to the skin.
Then his knees had gone wobbly, and he’d passed out. Matt had woken up three days later with a raging headache and-.
“Wings!” Matt thundered, inadvertently flapping the fire-engine red feathered wings in agitation. “Mohinder, what the hell were you working on?!”
Mohinder was just staring at him with awe, eyes darting to take in every nuance of the new appendages, and Matt had to grab him by the shirt and shake him to bring him back to the here and now.
“It was a variation on the formula I was working on for a temporary power suppressant, but it was just in the very preliminary stages! I didn’t know what was going to happen, and I had it out in order to separate batches for testing when you came in!” Mohinder exclaimed.
“Wings!” Matt repeated, as if Mohinder had somehow missed that extremely relevant fact.
“Yes, I know! It’s completely fascinating; I had no idea formula could cause changes on this level…”
“Screw ‘fascinating,’ how can you reverse it?” Matt demanded.
Mohinder gaped at him and stammered. “I-. I have no idea. It’s unprecedented, I told you! I watched it happen to you while you were out, and I’m still having difficulty believing it, let alone trying to formulate a cure!”
“You had three days and you couldn’t do anything to stop it?”
“I could have hurt you without knowing exactly what was going on! I needed to be cautious, Matt. I didn’t want to do anything that might permanently damage you,” Mohinder said, looking stern.
Matt finally calmed down a little and sat down on the edge of the bed Mohinder kept in one corner of his lab.
“Ok, ok. So, what are we going to do now?” Matt asked in a more reasonable tone of voice.
“Well, I’m going to map the extent of the changes, and then I’m going to get to work on a cure,” Mohinder said firmly. “Just let me chart them and examine at the underlying muscles so I can see where they’re stemming from, precisely. Then I’ll draw some blood so I can determine exactly what the formula was trying to do.”
Matt took another couple of deep breaths and nodded slowly. He let Mohinder crawl behind him on the bed, and concentrated on keeping his new wings still as Mohinder began to photograph them.
“Why red?” Matt asked suddenly. “And why that color red? I mean, it’s been a long time since high school genetics, but I don’t have red hair anywhere in my family tree.”
“I’m not sure,” Mohinder said slowly, crawling off the bed and going to grab the supplies to draw blood. He wrapped the rubber tubing around Matt’s arm and tightened it. “Certainly some species of birds have rather extraordinary plumage, so perhaps the formula was attempting to invoke some of the more subtle aspects of avian DNA.” A swab of alcohol and then a prick with the needle, and in a few minutes, Mohinder had his sample.
“There, let me put that in the centrifuge while I do a physical examination of the wings, all right?”
Matt sighed in resignation when Mohinder finally got back on the bed, the centrifuge humming in the background.
“I don’t see how this is going to help-. Nngh!” Matt said abruptly, as Mohinder’s hands slid over where the wings emerged from Matt’s back.
Mohinder snatched his hands back. “Did I hurt you?”
“…No,” Matt managed, trying to get his heart to stop racing. Mohinder put his hands back, and Matt stifled another groan. And then another, as Mohinder moved his hands, delicately touching where the wings joined Matt’s body. It felt good, unexpectedly, unbelievably good, like Mohinder had just discovered a whole new erogenous zone.
“I know that sound,” Mohinder said quietly, and moved his hands slowly up the arch of Matt’s wings.
Matt whimpered as his wings shivered, wordlessly pushing back in Mohinder’s hands, begging for more.
“Yes, I definitely know that sound,” Mohinder said firmly, and began to gently card his fingers through Matt’s red feathers, fingernails just barely caressing the skin below. Matt’s remaining strength in his knees fled and he collapsed forward, sprawling on the bed and spreading out his wings so Mohinder could have full access.
“Don’t… stop,” Matt managed. His dick throbbed, trapped between the mattress and the combined weight himself and Mohinder as he straddled his back.
“Then I won’t, I promise,” Mohinder murmured right in Matt’s ear. Matt flapped his wings back slowly, catching Mohinder between them, and squirmed luxuriously at the feeling of Mohinder slowly working his way out from between them.
“Unfair,” Matt said into the mattress. “So unfair.”
Mohinder tickled his fingers through the feathers up to the larger arches of the wings, and stroked down them firmly. Matt made an undignified, high-pitched sound as his body seemed to light up all over, wings blazing with pleasure and flapping madly as his climax hit him with the force of a hurricane. He had to wait until the sensations died down to a mere zephyr before he could even recognize Mohinder was groaning too.
Matt looked over his shoulder with heavy eyes, and gaped at Mohinder lying back on the mattress, semi-conscious, with two black eyes, a puffy face, and small red feathers stuck to his hair.
“Mohinder!” Matt yelled, turning around and looking him over with alarm. “What happened?”
Mohinder wove his hands together vaguely like a shadow puppet eagle and flapped them madly.
“Oh,” Matt said in a small voice. “Uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you!”
Mohinder waved away the apology, smiling through his pain. “If you enjoyed it that much, I’ll take the hits.”
“Well, you did deserve something for sticking me with wings,” Matt allowed, pulling Mohinder up gently and plucking the feathers from his hair.
“It’s rather appropriate, thematically, don’t you think? Even if it’s just an accident.”
Matt totaled up the days in his head and groaned in embarrassment. “Crap.”
Mohinder heard the centrifuge chime, and hobbled off the bed to examine the blood sample. Many long minutes, stains, and slides later, Mohinder nodded with satisfaction.
“It’s a completely separate mutation, something I can get your body to reabsorb with the right course of treatment.”
Matt stared at Mohinder in astonishment.
“You can fix this with a ‘course of treatment?’” Matt asked incredulously.
“I’ve fixed worse!” Mohinder reminded him cheerfully, and waved at his own pretty face.
Matt was about to argue when Mohinder returned to the bed and pulled Matt into a kiss, sliding his hands along the wings again. Knowing he was fighting a losing battle, Matt surrendered to Mohinder’s touch, determined to enjoy this while it lasted.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Matt said, gasping into Mohinder’s mouth as his clever hands ran over his wings, folding them both in a heart of red feathers.
Author: jaune_chat
Fandoms: Heroes
Characters/Pairings: Matt/Mohinder
Rating: R
Wordcount: 1,273
Spoilers: Through the end of S3
Warnings: Slash, wing!fic, crack, and abuse of the scientific method
Disclaimer: Heroes belongs to Tim Kring, NBC et al.
A/N: Written for kethni’s Valentine’s Matt-a-thon for the prompt: “Matt/Mohinder - wing!fic.”
Summary: And accident ends up with Matt and Mohinder having a very appropriately themed Valentine’s Day.
“You have got to be kidding me!” Matt roared.
Mohinder had the grace to blush and wince, but not to run for his life, which just made Matt angrier. Stopping by your boyfriend’s lab should not run the risk of being doused with untested genetic mutation formulas, but that was precisely what had happened. Three days ago, Matt had stopped by with Chinese food for Mohinder during one of his all-night research binges. When he’d tried to find a safe place to put the containers, Mohinder had unexpectedly popped out from his office, scaring the living daylights out of Matt. He’d stepped back in surprise, accidentally knocked over some equipment, which has ended up flinging a beaker of some red liquid all over him, soaking him to the skin.
Then his knees had gone wobbly, and he’d passed out. Matt had woken up three days later with a raging headache and-.
“Wings!” Matt thundered, inadvertently flapping the fire-engine red feathered wings in agitation. “Mohinder, what the hell were you working on?!”
Mohinder was just staring at him with awe, eyes darting to take in every nuance of the new appendages, and Matt had to grab him by the shirt and shake him to bring him back to the here and now.
“It was a variation on the formula I was working on for a temporary power suppressant, but it was just in the very preliminary stages! I didn’t know what was going to happen, and I had it out in order to separate batches for testing when you came in!” Mohinder exclaimed.
“Wings!” Matt repeated, as if Mohinder had somehow missed that extremely relevant fact.
“Yes, I know! It’s completely fascinating; I had no idea formula could cause changes on this level…”
“Screw ‘fascinating,’ how can you reverse it?” Matt demanded.
Mohinder gaped at him and stammered. “I-. I have no idea. It’s unprecedented, I told you! I watched it happen to you while you were out, and I’m still having difficulty believing it, let alone trying to formulate a cure!”
“You had three days and you couldn’t do anything to stop it?”
“I could have hurt you without knowing exactly what was going on! I needed to be cautious, Matt. I didn’t want to do anything that might permanently damage you,” Mohinder said, looking stern.
Matt finally calmed down a little and sat down on the edge of the bed Mohinder kept in one corner of his lab.
“Ok, ok. So, what are we going to do now?” Matt asked in a more reasonable tone of voice.
“Well, I’m going to map the extent of the changes, and then I’m going to get to work on a cure,” Mohinder said firmly. “Just let me chart them and examine at the underlying muscles so I can see where they’re stemming from, precisely. Then I’ll draw some blood so I can determine exactly what the formula was trying to do.”
Matt took another couple of deep breaths and nodded slowly. He let Mohinder crawl behind him on the bed, and concentrated on keeping his new wings still as Mohinder began to photograph them.
“Why red?” Matt asked suddenly. “And why that color red? I mean, it’s been a long time since high school genetics, but I don’t have red hair anywhere in my family tree.”
“I’m not sure,” Mohinder said slowly, crawling off the bed and going to grab the supplies to draw blood. He wrapped the rubber tubing around Matt’s arm and tightened it. “Certainly some species of birds have rather extraordinary plumage, so perhaps the formula was attempting to invoke some of the more subtle aspects of avian DNA.” A swab of alcohol and then a prick with the needle, and in a few minutes, Mohinder had his sample.
“There, let me put that in the centrifuge while I do a physical examination of the wings, all right?”
Matt sighed in resignation when Mohinder finally got back on the bed, the centrifuge humming in the background.
“I don’t see how this is going to help-. Nngh!” Matt said abruptly, as Mohinder’s hands slid over where the wings emerged from Matt’s back.
Mohinder snatched his hands back. “Did I hurt you?”
“…No,” Matt managed, trying to get his heart to stop racing. Mohinder put his hands back, and Matt stifled another groan. And then another, as Mohinder moved his hands, delicately touching where the wings joined Matt’s body. It felt good, unexpectedly, unbelievably good, like Mohinder had just discovered a whole new erogenous zone.
“I know that sound,” Mohinder said quietly, and moved his hands slowly up the arch of Matt’s wings.
Matt whimpered as his wings shivered, wordlessly pushing back in Mohinder’s hands, begging for more.
“Yes, I definitely know that sound,” Mohinder said firmly, and began to gently card his fingers through Matt’s red feathers, fingernails just barely caressing the skin below. Matt’s remaining strength in his knees fled and he collapsed forward, sprawling on the bed and spreading out his wings so Mohinder could have full access.
“Don’t… stop,” Matt managed. His dick throbbed, trapped between the mattress and the combined weight himself and Mohinder as he straddled his back.
“Then I won’t, I promise,” Mohinder murmured right in Matt’s ear. Matt flapped his wings back slowly, catching Mohinder between them, and squirmed luxuriously at the feeling of Mohinder slowly working his way out from between them.
“Unfair,” Matt said into the mattress. “So unfair.”
Mohinder tickled his fingers through the feathers up to the larger arches of the wings, and stroked down them firmly. Matt made an undignified, high-pitched sound as his body seemed to light up all over, wings blazing with pleasure and flapping madly as his climax hit him with the force of a hurricane. He had to wait until the sensations died down to a mere zephyr before he could even recognize Mohinder was groaning too.
Matt looked over his shoulder with heavy eyes, and gaped at Mohinder lying back on the mattress, semi-conscious, with two black eyes, a puffy face, and small red feathers stuck to his hair.
“Mohinder!” Matt yelled, turning around and looking him over with alarm. “What happened?”
Mohinder wove his hands together vaguely like a shadow puppet eagle and flapped them madly.
“Oh,” Matt said in a small voice. “Uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you!”
Mohinder waved away the apology, smiling through his pain. “If you enjoyed it that much, I’ll take the hits.”
“Well, you did deserve something for sticking me with wings,” Matt allowed, pulling Mohinder up gently and plucking the feathers from his hair.
“It’s rather appropriate, thematically, don’t you think? Even if it’s just an accident.”
Matt totaled up the days in his head and groaned in embarrassment. “Crap.”
Mohinder heard the centrifuge chime, and hobbled off the bed to examine the blood sample. Many long minutes, stains, and slides later, Mohinder nodded with satisfaction.
“It’s a completely separate mutation, something I can get your body to reabsorb with the right course of treatment.”
Matt stared at Mohinder in astonishment.
“You can fix this with a ‘course of treatment?’” Matt asked incredulously.
“I’ve fixed worse!” Mohinder reminded him cheerfully, and waved at his own pretty face.
Matt was about to argue when Mohinder returned to the bed and pulled Matt into a kiss, sliding his hands along the wings again. Knowing he was fighting a losing battle, Matt surrendered to Mohinder’s touch, determined to enjoy this while it lasted.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Matt said, gasping into Mohinder’s mouth as his clever hands ran over his wings, folding them both in a heart of red feathers.