Fic: Acceptable Alternatives, Matt/Isaac, NC-17
Title: Acceptable Alternatives
Author: Corona
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Matt/Isaac
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: In no way mine or anything to do with me. I own nothing
Summary: The advances are clearly designed to make the possession charges go away
AN: I'm honestly surprised no one has done this already. Written for
30_forbidden prompt 'escape'
"And it's very likely you'll be charged with possession Mr-" Matt rechecks the driver's licence. "Mendez."
He looks up, Isaac Mendez doesn't appear to be angry, or upset, he doesn't even really look afraid, which are the three usual reactions. There's a quiet almost frustrated air of resignation about him.
He's slender, unassuming but still striking under trails of hair, he's standing with one hand cupping an elbow and the splashes of oil paint on his hands and arms tell Matt he's probably an artist.
Clearly he's not spending his money on clothes though. Matt rather suspects he knows where he is spending it instead.
Matt tugs his pad out of his pocket and Isaac's eyes follow it carefully, flick up to his face when he tugs the pen out of the side.
His tongue slides across his lower lip.
Matt looks away for just a fraction of a second to write down the time.
Isaac slides under the arm holding the pad, a warm sudden curve of skin and paint smell against Matt's chest and his surprise, his protest is turned into a shuddering exhale through his nose when a slim hand turns his head into a kiss.
It's accomplished and sudden and disorienting and Isaac's mouth is all wet insistent push, no hesitation about opening him before Matt remembers that he shouldn't let him. Making everything deep and hot, and...so very inappropriate.
He puts a hand up to hold him still so he can step back, pull away, god something, anything, finds his hand full of hair instead and doesn't have a clue what to do, or how?
The advances are clearly designed to make the possession charges go away, and Matt doesn't know why the man would even assume that this would- that he would do this.
He's certain he didn't give any indication that this was something he'd do. Matt has never done anything like this before in his life, ever. But now there's a wealth of hair caught in his hands, slippery strands running through his fingers and he wants to pull away, knows he should pull away but everything's tangled up and he's not entirely sure how...and.......
Slender hands are dragging him tighter against the edge of the building, to where it's darker, and the bricks are cold against his back, cold and rough through the material of his uniform and jesus-
The hands dart inward, unbuckling his belt in one smooth movement, dragging both ends apart.
Isaac pulls away long enough to lick his lips, flick his eyes upwards to gauge...something, anything, Matt doesn't know he can't tell but he must look surprised, he can't look like he's...encouraging this.
"You don't have to..." he flounders because this is an entirely new thing and they don't teach you how to deal with things like this. "Jesus I can't-" Matt tells him desperately.
"Yes you can," Isaac says quietly and his voice is soft, persuasive
One hand slides down, touches him, fingers slim and air cooled and Matt's head knocks against the bricks.
"Oh god," breath slides across the edge of his jaw, and there's the scrape of shoes and Isaac slithers to his knees, hands opening Matt's pants as he goes and this is a flavour of inappropriate which is so fucking wrong there are no words for it.
He has to tell Isaac to get up, he knows it, has to tell him to please get up now because he can't do this, doesn't do this, god he doesn't...
He reacts, shamefully quickly, to the flutter of warm breath across bare flesh.
Isaac leans in, one long hand steadying him while the other curls round his thigh, tilts him just enough.
His mouth is slick and hot and slides slowly all the way down him, and it's a sensation so impossibly arousing that Matt's hand has caught in his hair before he really registers.
But there's no protest, no objections to the slide of fingers, and the sweep that drags Isaac's hair off the side of his face is entirely accidental but, once clear, the view makes Matt groan in his throat, stunned at how dirty every wet slide looks.
Matt wants to pull, wants to shove with his hips and make everything hotter and quicker but it's the sort of wrong that makes him seriously question his own moral standing. The fact that he's doing this at all...jesus, leaves him shaking with something that's both need and horror and twice as intense for it.
But Isaac knows, he knows somehow because his mouth is suddenly tight enough that every part of him aches and he has to look again, has to.
It's...god it's like nothing he's seen before it's quick and dirty, and far too good. It's like something he shouldn't be watching, like it's indecent, and it is, it really is.
"Please," Matt says hoarsely and he has no idea how the word escapes but Isaac makes a noise, a soft encouraging noise that stabs deep and makes Matt gasp, makes him shift forward, one quick, impossible to resist, thrust.
An apology catches in his throat because suddenly everything is fast and hot and too much and his own breathing sounds rough and broken over far wetter, filthier sounds.
"Jesus-"
His hand catches in Isaac's hair again and he tries desperately not to pull, not to push all the way in but he's not exactly sure if he succeeds because when he comes it's intense, he's left gasping through the aftershocks, loose and stunned, fingers tangled in the hair of a complete stranger.
His head tips back against the wall, scrapes against the brickwork and he can barely feel it, swearing softly and struggling to be able to hear again over the sound of his own frantic pulse.
Isaac slides back off of him, hair falling over his mouth. He drags Matt's pants shut again, zips and buttons them while Matt struggles to breathe without sounding like he's dying.
Then Isaac steps back.
"Can I go?" Isaac runs his tongue across his upper lip, eyes bright and restless, he's gone back to cupping his elbow, fingers shifting on the skin.
Matt wonders, desperately, how in the name of god he's supposed to arrest him now.
He's not entirely sure he can still make words, sensible ones, and what the fuck did he just let happen?
Wordlessly he manages a jerky sort of nod, and he has no idea whether he intended to or not.
There's a scuff of shoes on concrete, footsteps that are neither slow nor hurried and Isaac Mendez disappears into the night.
Author: Corona
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Matt/Isaac
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: In no way mine or anything to do with me. I own nothing
Summary: The advances are clearly designed to make the possession charges go away
AN: I'm honestly surprised no one has done this already. Written for
30_forbidden prompt 'escape'
"And it's very likely you'll be charged with possession Mr-" Matt rechecks the driver's licence. "Mendez."
He looks up, Isaac Mendez doesn't appear to be angry, or upset, he doesn't even really look afraid, which are the three usual reactions. There's a quiet almost frustrated air of resignation about him.
He's slender, unassuming but still striking under trails of hair, he's standing with one hand cupping an elbow and the splashes of oil paint on his hands and arms tell Matt he's probably an artist.
Clearly he's not spending his money on clothes though. Matt rather suspects he knows where he is spending it instead.
Matt tugs his pad out of his pocket and Isaac's eyes follow it carefully, flick up to his face when he tugs the pen out of the side.
His tongue slides across his lower lip.
Matt looks away for just a fraction of a second to write down the time.
Isaac slides under the arm holding the pad, a warm sudden curve of skin and paint smell against Matt's chest and his surprise, his protest is turned into a shuddering exhale through his nose when a slim hand turns his head into a kiss.
It's accomplished and sudden and disorienting and Isaac's mouth is all wet insistent push, no hesitation about opening him before Matt remembers that he shouldn't let him. Making everything deep and hot, and...so very inappropriate.
He puts a hand up to hold him still so he can step back, pull away, god something, anything, finds his hand full of hair instead and doesn't have a clue what to do, or how?
The advances are clearly designed to make the possession charges go away, and Matt doesn't know why the man would even assume that this would- that he would do this.
He's certain he didn't give any indication that this was something he'd do. Matt has never done anything like this before in his life, ever. But now there's a wealth of hair caught in his hands, slippery strands running through his fingers and he wants to pull away, knows he should pull away but everything's tangled up and he's not entirely sure how...and.......
Slender hands are dragging him tighter against the edge of the building, to where it's darker, and the bricks are cold against his back, cold and rough through the material of his uniform and jesus-
The hands dart inward, unbuckling his belt in one smooth movement, dragging both ends apart.
Isaac pulls away long enough to lick his lips, flick his eyes upwards to gauge...something, anything, Matt doesn't know he can't tell but he must look surprised, he can't look like he's...encouraging this.
"You don't have to..." he flounders because this is an entirely new thing and they don't teach you how to deal with things like this. "Jesus I can't-" Matt tells him desperately.
"Yes you can," Isaac says quietly and his voice is soft, persuasive
One hand slides down, touches him, fingers slim and air cooled and Matt's head knocks against the bricks.
"Oh god," breath slides across the edge of his jaw, and there's the scrape of shoes and Isaac slithers to his knees, hands opening Matt's pants as he goes and this is a flavour of inappropriate which is so fucking wrong there are no words for it.
He has to tell Isaac to get up, he knows it, has to tell him to please get up now because he can't do this, doesn't do this, god he doesn't...
He reacts, shamefully quickly, to the flutter of warm breath across bare flesh.
Isaac leans in, one long hand steadying him while the other curls round his thigh, tilts him just enough.
His mouth is slick and hot and slides slowly all the way down him, and it's a sensation so impossibly arousing that Matt's hand has caught in his hair before he really registers.
But there's no protest, no objections to the slide of fingers, and the sweep that drags Isaac's hair off the side of his face is entirely accidental but, once clear, the view makes Matt groan in his throat, stunned at how dirty every wet slide looks.
Matt wants to pull, wants to shove with his hips and make everything hotter and quicker but it's the sort of wrong that makes him seriously question his own moral standing. The fact that he's doing this at all...jesus, leaves him shaking with something that's both need and horror and twice as intense for it.
But Isaac knows, he knows somehow because his mouth is suddenly tight enough that every part of him aches and he has to look again, has to.
It's...god it's like nothing he's seen before it's quick and dirty, and far too good. It's like something he shouldn't be watching, like it's indecent, and it is, it really is.
"Please," Matt says hoarsely and he has no idea how the word escapes but Isaac makes a noise, a soft encouraging noise that stabs deep and makes Matt gasp, makes him shift forward, one quick, impossible to resist, thrust.
An apology catches in his throat because suddenly everything is fast and hot and too much and his own breathing sounds rough and broken over far wetter, filthier sounds.
"Jesus-"
His hand catches in Isaac's hair again and he tries desperately not to pull, not to push all the way in but he's not exactly sure if he succeeds because when he comes it's intense, he's left gasping through the aftershocks, loose and stunned, fingers tangled in the hair of a complete stranger.
His head tips back against the wall, scrapes against the brickwork and he can barely feel it, swearing softly and struggling to be able to hear again over the sound of his own frantic pulse.
Isaac slides back off of him, hair falling over his mouth. He drags Matt's pants shut again, zips and buttons them while Matt struggles to breathe without sounding like he's dying.
Then Isaac steps back.
"Can I go?" Isaac runs his tongue across his upper lip, eyes bright and restless, he's gone back to cupping his elbow, fingers shifting on the skin.
Matt wonders, desperately, how in the name of god he's supposed to arrest him now.
He's not entirely sure he can still make words, sensible ones, and what the fuck did he just let happen?
Wordlessly he manages a jerky sort of nod, and he has no idea whether he intended to or not.
There's a scuff of shoes on concrete, footsteps that are neither slow nor hurried and Isaac Mendez disappears into the night.