(no subject)
Title: Sun in Your Heart
Characters: Matt/Mohinder + Molly
Rating: PG-15
Disclaimer: I don't even own a nice pair of shoes, never mind these characters.
Spoilers: Takes place after 2.07, “Out of Time.” References several events in Season Two.
Summary: It's just a little rain. Not like it's the end of the world, and they should know, right?
A/N: Thanks to triedunture for the lovely beta. This started out as a drabble, and then some plot snuck in there, and then the characters just started making out. 2000 words.
I'd like to show you a million things
I'd like to make the world for you a better place
But when it pours it really rains
So put on your boots, and let's play
-Sleater-Kinney, “Lions and Tigers”
Mohinder is in a foul mood as he exits the subway, Matt and Molly in step behind him. Meetings with principals aren’t supposed to be fun, he’s watched enough American sitcoms to know that, but they never managed to convey how utterly exhausting and frustrating they are.
There’s a stack of paperwork in his bag that needs to be filled out as soon as possible (or “A-sap,” as Mr. Orvin said; this need for acronyms to be said phonetically is another American habit he doesn’t understand) in order for Molly to get re-enrolled in her school. Despite the fact that she was only out for about two weeks, “that blowhard Orvin” (Matt’s words) insisted that the two of them fill in a pile of forms and get notes from her doctors.
When they were leaving the school, Matt blithely informed him that Orvin was suspicious that they were abusive to Molly. Great. Another item on the list of Things Mohinder Really Doesn’t Need, Thank You: people thinking that he and Matt are unfit parents.
Matt is still on cloud-nine from saving Molly and confronting his father, so Orvin’s suspicions hardly affect him. Mohinder wants to be happier for him, for both of them, but the reality of his life keeps dragging him down. Niki’s sick with an incurable strain of the virus, his plans with Bennet are starting to unravel, and even without the horrible conference with Molly’s principal, he’s feeling in over his head. He’s actually caught himself longing for his life in India sometimes. It was boring and stifling, but it was certainly a lot simpler. He never got his nose broken by a colleague at the university, at least. Who would have known that a small piece of broken cartilage would be so painful?
“I think I still have some Vicodin left at the house,” Matt says suddenly, as they go through the turnstiles.
It takes a moment for Mohinder to realize what he means. Then he blushes, because he really hadn’t wanted his internal whining to be overheard.
“I thought we agreed-”
“I know, sorry. It’s just easier, in crowds, if I listen to one person. It sort of blocks out the rest of it. I only caught the bit about your nose.”
Mohinder decides to believe him, if only because it’s less embarrassing.
Still, the promise of narcotics and pain relief in his near future lighten his mood a little bit, at least until they leave the platform and walk back onto the street.
It’s pouring rain when the three of them emerge from the subway tunnel closest to their home. Six blocks away, and sheets of water lie between them and their destination..
“Crap,” Matt says.
“I agree,” Mohinder says. Of course, none of them brought an umbrella. Of course.
Molly doesn’t say anything, just jumps into the closest puddle. Mohinder’s pant leg gets soaked, and he makes an indignant squawk.
“Molly!”
“What does it matter?” she says, in that irritatingly logical voice only nine-year-olds can use. “We’re going to be soaked anyway.”
He looks over at Matt, hoping to get a little support, but Matt is trying and mostly failing to keep a straight face. At Mohinder’s huffy look, he bursts into giggles.
“Sorry, just your face. And that noise you made.” He falters a little at Mohinder’s unamused glare. “Sorry. I am. Really.”
When Mohinder doesn’t let up, he rolls his eyes. “Oh, lighten up,” he says, and slaps his boot down onto a nearby puddle.
The water arcs up and hits all three of them. Molly shrieks and runs away, and Matt follows her, chasing her around the sidewalk, the two of them engaged in a vicious battle to see who can get the other the wettest. The other pedestrians ignore them, except to give them a quick glare and a wide berth.
Mohinder lets out a put upon sigh. He has to remember that both of them are from L.A., have never had to deal with monsoons, and view the rain as something novel rather than a seasonal catastrophe. He feels slightly superior, until he notices how much fun they’re having.
Matt suddenly looks over at him, a huge smile on his face that makes Mohinder’s stomach do a familiar flop.
Stop that, he thinks silently. He’s not sure what’s worse: that he has a crush on his telepathic roommate, or that Matt appears completely oblivious to it. He’d be tempted to let something slip, if he weren’t so terrified.
He watches Matt blink rain out of his eyes, then call to Mohinder, “Come on. Live a little. It’s just rain, not the end of the world.” And we should know, right? Matt adds telepathically.
That’s one way to put things in perspective. Mohinder sighs as his annoyance begins to drain out of him. It’s hard to maintain a bad mood in the face of Matt’s hopeful smile and Molly’s obvious joy. Might as well join in.
Mohinder keeps his gloomy expression, switches his internal dialogue to Tamil so Matt can’t hear his plan, and walks to catch up with Molly and Matt. They watch him a little timidly, afraid he’s still annoyed. Mohinder waits until he’s only a few paces away, and then jumps with both feet into a puddle between them.
It’s a perfect shot, and all three of them get soaked.
It takes them twice as long as it normally does to get to their building, what with all the detours and shared giggle fits as someone hits the water at a perfect angle to splash their companions. The air smells unusual; wet pavement and earth and car exhaust, kind of clean and chemically at the same time. There’s a weird charge in the air, and Mohinder would be willing to bet that this rain is going to turn into a thunder storm in a few hours.
All three of them look like they jumped into a pool with all of their clothes on. There’s no part of Mohinder that isn’t miserably saturated and dripping. But Molly turns her face up to the sky, letting the rain fall onto her eyelids and cheeks and grinning lips, and he feels love for her that is like a fist around his heart, squeezing.
He glances up to see Matt looking at him, a crazy grin plastered on his face, like he just knows exactly what Mohinder is feeling. Which he does, of course. Mohinder feels slightly put-off for a moment, until Matt distracts him by leaning in and kissing him, a quick, wet slide of skin against his own.
Wait, what? He’s too surprised to even close his eyes.
There are drops of water suspended in Matt’s eyelashes. Something about this, or maybe that they’re standing so close that he can see details like that, makes several explosions go off in Mohinder’s brain, chest, and groin.
“This is okay, right?” Matt says.
Heart thudding painfully, Mohinder nods. Apparently, Matt wasn’t quite as-
“-As oblivious as you thought?” He smiles sheepishly. Mohinder starts to cringe, but Matt is kissing him again, and he really can’t do both at the same time, so he gives up on the former in favor of the latter.
“Oh my god!” Molly shrieks, and Mohinder snaps away, turning red. Molly is staring at the two of them in shocked delight. “Matt and Mohinder, sitting in a tree,” she begins to chant.
Mohinder groans, feeling his cheeks flush. She is taking the news well, at least. Then again, she’s an observant kid. She probably knew what was happening before either of them did.
“Uh-oh. Feeling left out?” Matt says to her, the red in his cheeks offsetting the wicked grin. He catches her up in his arms and starts smothering her with wet, smacking kisses. She giggles and screams when he gives her a big raspberry on the side of her face.
Mohinder watches them both before turning his face to the sky. The rain hits his skin softly, each drop a surprise. This is all crazy, he thinks; he shouldn’t be standing here in the rain, feeling so happy when there’s water in his shoes and dripping down his collar, and mountains of paperwork for Molly’s school, not to mention that he is currently involved in a conspiracy against his employers, or that he got his nose broken yesterday by his psychotic partner, who is now sick with an incurable-
Water hits him, reaching up his chest to catch him on the face. He opens his eyes to see Molly bent double in laughter, and Matt mostly trying (and failing) not to do the same.
“Sorry, but I had to, man. Self preservation.” He taps his head. “My brain would have exploded in another second, listening to that”
Mohinder takes off his still-dripping glasses, and then says in his haughtiest voice to Matt, “You are incorrigible.”
Then he leans in to kiss him again. The early summer rains falls down all around the two men as their daughter dances in deluge.
Upstairs, they all leave a trail of water to each of their rooms. Molly insists on being the first in the shower because she’s the quickest, or so she claims. Once they hear the door lock and the shower start, Mohinder tugs Matt into the bedroom and pins him against the wall with his hips.
The damp heat coming off him is incredible. Mohinder worms his cold, clammy hands underneath Matt’s soaked t-shirt, ignoring the other man’s yelp. He pulls their hips together, kissing Matt for all he’s worth, hardening at the friction and the other man’s groans.
“Does rain turn you on or something?” Matt asks, breaking the kiss. “I’ve never seen you this… you know. Forward. About anything.”
Mohinder runs his fingers through Matt’s wet, spiky hair. He can’t hope to convey the way he’s feeling; aroused, yes, but also warm and safe and relieved and like he’s the luckiest man in the world. The world may be spinning out of his control, but there’s Molly’s tuneless voice singing a Disney song and Matt’s warm eyes filled with desire, and right now it’s enough. So instead he says, “Maybe. Or maybe I just know that we have twenty minutes before Molly gets out of the shower. At most.”
He tugs at the hem of Matt’s shirt, and the other man obligingly raises his arms.
“I kind of wanted to, um, take my time with this,” he says, voice muffled behind the cotton t-shirt. They get it off the rest of the way, and drop it on the floor. For once, Mohinder refuses to worry about getting the carpets damp.
He quickly unbuttons his own shirt, fingers clumsy in impatience. “We can take time later. Right now, I’d prefer not to waste anymore than we already have.”
Later that night, the storm has mostly passed, leaving only a calm and quiet rain. After Molly went to bed, he and Matt moved the pillows and blankets from the couch to the double bed in Mohinder’s room.
In the silence, Mohinder hears the rain pounding against their window, the radiator clanging, the rhythm of the Matt’s breathing. He thinks about his life as an academic in Chennai, and the sea of umbrellas that appeared each September as people hurried from one shelter to another. People didn’t stop to feel the rain on their skin, or jump in puddles with their daughters. They definitely didn’t kiss their lovers on the street while the skies came pouring down.
“You think you’ve changed,” Matt says, half asleep. He’s putting the pieces of his fragmented thoughts together in a way that Mohinder couldn’t.
Mohinder shrugs. “Of course. This isn’t the life I was planning on living.”
Matt smiles, slightly sadder. “Tell me about it,” he says. He reaches a hand down and grasps Mohinder’s softly.
“But it’s worth it.”
“Well, obviously.”
Characters: Matt/Mohinder + Molly
Rating: PG-15
Disclaimer: I don't even own a nice pair of shoes, never mind these characters.
Spoilers: Takes place after 2.07, “Out of Time.” References several events in Season Two.
Summary: It's just a little rain. Not like it's the end of the world, and they should know, right?
A/N: Thanks to triedunture for the lovely beta. This started out as a drabble, and then some plot snuck in there, and then the characters just started making out. 2000 words.
I'd like to show you a million things
I'd like to make the world for you a better place
But when it pours it really rains
So put on your boots, and let's play
-Sleater-Kinney, “Lions and Tigers”
Mohinder is in a foul mood as he exits the subway, Matt and Molly in step behind him. Meetings with principals aren’t supposed to be fun, he’s watched enough American sitcoms to know that, but they never managed to convey how utterly exhausting and frustrating they are.
There’s a stack of paperwork in his bag that needs to be filled out as soon as possible (or “A-sap,” as Mr. Orvin said; this need for acronyms to be said phonetically is another American habit he doesn’t understand) in order for Molly to get re-enrolled in her school. Despite the fact that she was only out for about two weeks, “that blowhard Orvin” (Matt’s words) insisted that the two of them fill in a pile of forms and get notes from her doctors.
When they were leaving the school, Matt blithely informed him that Orvin was suspicious that they were abusive to Molly. Great. Another item on the list of Things Mohinder Really Doesn’t Need, Thank You: people thinking that he and Matt are unfit parents.
Matt is still on cloud-nine from saving Molly and confronting his father, so Orvin’s suspicions hardly affect him. Mohinder wants to be happier for him, for both of them, but the reality of his life keeps dragging him down. Niki’s sick with an incurable strain of the virus, his plans with Bennet are starting to unravel, and even without the horrible conference with Molly’s principal, he’s feeling in over his head. He’s actually caught himself longing for his life in India sometimes. It was boring and stifling, but it was certainly a lot simpler. He never got his nose broken by a colleague at the university, at least. Who would have known that a small piece of broken cartilage would be so painful?
“I think I still have some Vicodin left at the house,” Matt says suddenly, as they go through the turnstiles.
It takes a moment for Mohinder to realize what he means. Then he blushes, because he really hadn’t wanted his internal whining to be overheard.
“I thought we agreed-”
“I know, sorry. It’s just easier, in crowds, if I listen to one person. It sort of blocks out the rest of it. I only caught the bit about your nose.”
Mohinder decides to believe him, if only because it’s less embarrassing.
Still, the promise of narcotics and pain relief in his near future lighten his mood a little bit, at least until they leave the platform and walk back onto the street.
It’s pouring rain when the three of them emerge from the subway tunnel closest to their home. Six blocks away, and sheets of water lie between them and their destination..
“Crap,” Matt says.
“I agree,” Mohinder says. Of course, none of them brought an umbrella. Of course.
Molly doesn’t say anything, just jumps into the closest puddle. Mohinder’s pant leg gets soaked, and he makes an indignant squawk.
“Molly!”
“What does it matter?” she says, in that irritatingly logical voice only nine-year-olds can use. “We’re going to be soaked anyway.”
He looks over at Matt, hoping to get a little support, but Matt is trying and mostly failing to keep a straight face. At Mohinder’s huffy look, he bursts into giggles.
“Sorry, just your face. And that noise you made.” He falters a little at Mohinder’s unamused glare. “Sorry. I am. Really.”
When Mohinder doesn’t let up, he rolls his eyes. “Oh, lighten up,” he says, and slaps his boot down onto a nearby puddle.
The water arcs up and hits all three of them. Molly shrieks and runs away, and Matt follows her, chasing her around the sidewalk, the two of them engaged in a vicious battle to see who can get the other the wettest. The other pedestrians ignore them, except to give them a quick glare and a wide berth.
Mohinder lets out a put upon sigh. He has to remember that both of them are from L.A., have never had to deal with monsoons, and view the rain as something novel rather than a seasonal catastrophe. He feels slightly superior, until he notices how much fun they’re having.
Matt suddenly looks over at him, a huge smile on his face that makes Mohinder’s stomach do a familiar flop.
Stop that, he thinks silently. He’s not sure what’s worse: that he has a crush on his telepathic roommate, or that Matt appears completely oblivious to it. He’d be tempted to let something slip, if he weren’t so terrified.
He watches Matt blink rain out of his eyes, then call to Mohinder, “Come on. Live a little. It’s just rain, not the end of the world.” And we should know, right? Matt adds telepathically.
That’s one way to put things in perspective. Mohinder sighs as his annoyance begins to drain out of him. It’s hard to maintain a bad mood in the face of Matt’s hopeful smile and Molly’s obvious joy. Might as well join in.
Mohinder keeps his gloomy expression, switches his internal dialogue to Tamil so Matt can’t hear his plan, and walks to catch up with Molly and Matt. They watch him a little timidly, afraid he’s still annoyed. Mohinder waits until he’s only a few paces away, and then jumps with both feet into a puddle between them.
It’s a perfect shot, and all three of them get soaked.
It takes them twice as long as it normally does to get to their building, what with all the detours and shared giggle fits as someone hits the water at a perfect angle to splash their companions. The air smells unusual; wet pavement and earth and car exhaust, kind of clean and chemically at the same time. There’s a weird charge in the air, and Mohinder would be willing to bet that this rain is going to turn into a thunder storm in a few hours.
All three of them look like they jumped into a pool with all of their clothes on. There’s no part of Mohinder that isn’t miserably saturated and dripping. But Molly turns her face up to the sky, letting the rain fall onto her eyelids and cheeks and grinning lips, and he feels love for her that is like a fist around his heart, squeezing.
He glances up to see Matt looking at him, a crazy grin plastered on his face, like he just knows exactly what Mohinder is feeling. Which he does, of course. Mohinder feels slightly put-off for a moment, until Matt distracts him by leaning in and kissing him, a quick, wet slide of skin against his own.
Wait, what? He’s too surprised to even close his eyes.
There are drops of water suspended in Matt’s eyelashes. Something about this, or maybe that they’re standing so close that he can see details like that, makes several explosions go off in Mohinder’s brain, chest, and groin.
“This is okay, right?” Matt says.
Heart thudding painfully, Mohinder nods. Apparently, Matt wasn’t quite as-
“-As oblivious as you thought?” He smiles sheepishly. Mohinder starts to cringe, but Matt is kissing him again, and he really can’t do both at the same time, so he gives up on the former in favor of the latter.
“Oh my god!” Molly shrieks, and Mohinder snaps away, turning red. Molly is staring at the two of them in shocked delight. “Matt and Mohinder, sitting in a tree,” she begins to chant.
Mohinder groans, feeling his cheeks flush. She is taking the news well, at least. Then again, she’s an observant kid. She probably knew what was happening before either of them did.
“Uh-oh. Feeling left out?” Matt says to her, the red in his cheeks offsetting the wicked grin. He catches her up in his arms and starts smothering her with wet, smacking kisses. She giggles and screams when he gives her a big raspberry on the side of her face.
Mohinder watches them both before turning his face to the sky. The rain hits his skin softly, each drop a surprise. This is all crazy, he thinks; he shouldn’t be standing here in the rain, feeling so happy when there’s water in his shoes and dripping down his collar, and mountains of paperwork for Molly’s school, not to mention that he is currently involved in a conspiracy against his employers, or that he got his nose broken yesterday by his psychotic partner, who is now sick with an incurable-
Water hits him, reaching up his chest to catch him on the face. He opens his eyes to see Molly bent double in laughter, and Matt mostly trying (and failing) not to do the same.
“Sorry, but I had to, man. Self preservation.” He taps his head. “My brain would have exploded in another second, listening to that”
Mohinder takes off his still-dripping glasses, and then says in his haughtiest voice to Matt, “You are incorrigible.”
Then he leans in to kiss him again. The early summer rains falls down all around the two men as their daughter dances in deluge.
Upstairs, they all leave a trail of water to each of their rooms. Molly insists on being the first in the shower because she’s the quickest, or so she claims. Once they hear the door lock and the shower start, Mohinder tugs Matt into the bedroom and pins him against the wall with his hips.
The damp heat coming off him is incredible. Mohinder worms his cold, clammy hands underneath Matt’s soaked t-shirt, ignoring the other man’s yelp. He pulls their hips together, kissing Matt for all he’s worth, hardening at the friction and the other man’s groans.
“Does rain turn you on or something?” Matt asks, breaking the kiss. “I’ve never seen you this… you know. Forward. About anything.”
Mohinder runs his fingers through Matt’s wet, spiky hair. He can’t hope to convey the way he’s feeling; aroused, yes, but also warm and safe and relieved and like he’s the luckiest man in the world. The world may be spinning out of his control, but there’s Molly’s tuneless voice singing a Disney song and Matt’s warm eyes filled with desire, and right now it’s enough. So instead he says, “Maybe. Or maybe I just know that we have twenty minutes before Molly gets out of the shower. At most.”
He tugs at the hem of Matt’s shirt, and the other man obligingly raises his arms.
“I kind of wanted to, um, take my time with this,” he says, voice muffled behind the cotton t-shirt. They get it off the rest of the way, and drop it on the floor. For once, Mohinder refuses to worry about getting the carpets damp.
He quickly unbuttons his own shirt, fingers clumsy in impatience. “We can take time later. Right now, I’d prefer not to waste anymore than we already have.”
Later that night, the storm has mostly passed, leaving only a calm and quiet rain. After Molly went to bed, he and Matt moved the pillows and blankets from the couch to the double bed in Mohinder’s room.
In the silence, Mohinder hears the rain pounding against their window, the radiator clanging, the rhythm of the Matt’s breathing. He thinks about his life as an academic in Chennai, and the sea of umbrellas that appeared each September as people hurried from one shelter to another. People didn’t stop to feel the rain on their skin, or jump in puddles with their daughters. They definitely didn’t kiss their lovers on the street while the skies came pouring down.
“You think you’ve changed,” Matt says, half asleep. He’s putting the pieces of his fragmented thoughts together in a way that Mohinder couldn’t.
Mohinder shrugs. “Of course. This isn’t the life I was planning on living.”
Matt smiles, slightly sadder. “Tell me about it,” he says. He reaches a hand down and grasps Mohinder’s softly.
“But it’s worth it.”
“Well, obviously.”