[fanfic] 30 First Kisses - Kiss #23 (PG-13)
Title: 30 First Kisses - Kiss #23
Author: tiptoe39
Rating: PG-13 for dark themes. And milk themes. And white themes. But no carob.
Summary: This? Is food porn. Plain and simple.
This is the 23rd of 30 possible ways Matt and Mohinder could share their first kiss, written for the 30_kisses challenge. The theme was "candy" (amedama). Previous kisses are here.
Matt came home with a small, gold bag tucked under his arm. It was such a sight. Huge bear of a man, rugged in the dim light, all eyebrows and stubble and shoulders, but with a glitter of amber beneath his elbow like a purse. Mohinder chuckled to himself. "How did the interview go?"
"OK. They said they wanted to wait for my strength to come back, then they'd have to put me through testing again. Said the letter from the FBI was a huge plus, but not enough to entirely make up for the suspension. So I kind of have to start from scratch."
Mohinder was dusting. Matt watched him run a damp rag over the top of the bookcase, standing on his toes and trying to peer over it like a child after a staircase railing late on Christmas Eve. Matt shrugged off his coat, put his gloves in the pocket, and hung it up on the coatstand near the door. The brass knobs clattered at him. He sat the bag on the table. "Went by the hospital to have them look at the place that's been itching me. They say it's normal. This nurse, Emily? Apparently had been waiting for me to come so she could give me this. She said it was just season's greetings, but... yeah. That's not happening."
"I don't blame you. It's a little forward." Mohinder wandered over, read the widely spaced letters on the bag. "Godiva! Well, she must really like you."
Matt waved his hand slightly, nonplussed. "I'm really more of a Snickers guy myself. None of that fancy stuff. I was thinking I’d give it to Molly."
In a flash, Mohinder was in front of him with folded arms. "Don’t you dare," he warned sternly. "First off, she would be impossible to scrape off the ceiling for weeks. And she wouldn’t appreciate it. This is chocolate for adults."
Matt grinned. "Oh, I see how it is. You’ve got a sweet tooth."
"Perhaps a slight one. I prefer to think of myself as a gourmet," he declared in an overly snooty voice.
"You can’t even keep a straight face when saying that," Matt observed.
"At least I don’t eat Snickers," responded Mohinder disdainfully. "Even the name of that candy is laughing at you for eating it."
"You should try it sometime. So what, are we going to wolf down the whole box while she’s asleep?"
Mohinder paused a moment, then nodded. "Yes. With wine."
Matt made a gagging noise. "Why do you have to ruin perfectly good chocolate with wine?"
"You’ll see," Mohinder said, smiling.
That night, Matt left Molly's bedroom and found Mohinder at the table, his eyes lit up along with two candles. Their flames flickered in the half-full glasses of wine and small white saucers that sat in front of Mohinder's chair and the one opposite him. In the center of the table, evenly spaced between candles from east to west and wine glasses from north to south, was the box of Godiva chocolates.
Matt blanched. "This is a little weird," he said.
Mohinder smiled, and his teeth seemed to brighten the candlelight. "You need the right environment to enjoy gourmet food."
"It's candy." Matt settled down with a grimace and opened the box. There were two layers of eight candies each. He skipped over the filled ones and grabbed one of the thin wafers of dark chocolate, chomping it down in two bites.
"You have got no class whatsoever," Mohinder said critically, his brows knotting.
"Not when it comes to candy, no." Matt shrugged.
"Ugh. Don't call it that, please."
"What should I call it, then?"
"It's chocolate."
"And chocolate is a kind of...?" Matt was starting to feel irritated. Had this doctor just invited him to crash here so he could play with him? Was he about to be turned into a pet project? He still wasn't entirely clear why he was given the invitation. I mean, sure, Molly wanted him there, but... he felt a little like Eliza Doolittle, and he had no desire to suddenly become a chocolate connoisseur. Any concept he couldn't spell was out.
"Paradise," Mohinder said, tilting his head.
"Huh?"
"Paradise. Chocolate is a kind of paradise experienced initially by the tongue but felt by the whole body." Mohinder looked dead serious. His lips curled about the words like chimney smoke around a sloping rooftop. Matt found himself watching their movements. "But you need to follow the right protocols to get the most out of the experience. Much like drinking wine."
"Uh-huh." Matt sat back. He was about to get a lecture whether he wanted it or not; he might as well be comfortable for it.
"You drink half the wine now, at the start," he instructed. "The wine is a dessert wine, but it's not as sweet as the chocolate, so you have it first and let the chocolate become sweeter on your tongue by comparison. So, cheers." He lifted his glass, and Matt hurried to pick his own up. The liquid sloshed from side to side in the deep ball of the goblet. The sounds of the two glasses meeting, like a high bell or a triangle, seemed to resonate in the air for several seconds after they drank.
The wine was sweet and sort of deep and heady. Matt didn't know much about wine, either. What he knew was simply whether he liked something once he tasted it, and he liked this pretty well. He wondered if this was deliberate, part of the My Fair Lady project to turn him classy. Mohinder, after all, was watching him very carefully. He'd never before been able to feel someone's eyes on him, actually feel the weight of the gaze on his skin. When he met those eyes, it was as if he'd been knocked backward three steps; he had to look away just to keep his balance.
Mohinder set down his glass and removed the top layer of sweets, then lifted himself off the chair to peer inside. Matt was struck by his agility, the way he was able to remain at such an odd angle without wavering or trembling. His body was like liquid. It didn't shift so much as flow into new positions.
He laid a small, white, heart-shaped piece on the small plate before Matt. "Start with this one," he said. "Bite half. Let it melt on your tongue for a few seconds. Then chew. Slowly." He picked another white ball and bit into it, then was still. Gradually a smile spread over his lips. "That's perfect," he said happily.
Matt eyed the heart. He wasn't ordinarily a fan of white chocolate, but what the hell. He bit into it and fought back his urge to chew and swallow. After a moment, a sweet buttery melting began to spread across his tongue, and he thought he could smell vanilla in the back of his nostrils. His eyelids became heavy, and he thought his whole skull would slowly cave in, magnetized, moving toward the sweet center.
Mohinder watched him, arms bent at the elbow to prop his chin up on his folded wrists. Matt's shoulders were relaxing, eyes closing, big fists on the able relaxing into flat palms upturned as though in prayer. When his eyes opened again, they were calmer, lighter in color. He went for the other half of the piece.
"Slowly!" Mohinder warned. "The sugar makes you greedy. Go slowly."
Matt swallowed and looked up. "Oops," he said, making Mohinder laugh. "That was pretty good. What's next? More wine?"
"Not until the end," Mohinder admonished. "Now you have one of... let me see..." He perused the small, folded sheet of glossy paper that came inside the package."Which do you prefer, orange or raspberry?"
"Neither, with chocolate." Matt made a face.
Mohinder frowned at him. "I think you may be hopeless." His frown was sort of funny in the low light. What was the word Matt was searching for? Oh, yes. Cute. Mohinder looked cute. Like an abandoned puppy. The kind in the cartoons. Matt felt horribly weak-minded all of a sudden.
"All right. Um. Give me the orange one," he grumbled, and held out his hand.
The frown immediately flipped to a half-smile. Mohinder found the requested piece and placed it in Matt's palm. The edges of his fingertips trailed along the lines of Matt's fingers as he withdrew his hand. Matt flushed, but Mohinder was looking into the box for his raspberry creme and didn't notice.
"How am I supposed to eat this one?" Matt asked.
"Hmm. Because you don't like the tastes together, perhaps you should break it in half and try the filling first. Then you can decide if it's any good," decided Mohinder.
Matt did, though he felt sort of foolish holding the tiny candy up to his face and licking out the cream. But it was not the tart explosion he'd expected on his tongue; instead, the filling was muted, like orange sherbet, and the texture was a little bit grainy over a smooth base. "It's not bad," he said.
Mohinder ate his the same way, delicately licking out much of the raspberry cream and sucking out a little more, then closing his mouth over the chocolate shell. He shivered with the taste and looked at Matt, then laughed. "You have some cream on your lips." Matt immediately licked his lips, feeling the dot of cream come loose and sucking it inside his mouth. Mohinder pouted. "You're not supposed to do that," he said.
Again with the cute face. OK, so Matt probably pretty much telegraphed his fatal weakness when he agreed to move cross-country for an eight-year-old girl who was not even his own. But did Mohinder have to exploit it so mercilessly? "There's a certain way to clean if you get chocolate on you?"
"Yes. It's very specific," Mohinder said. "I'll have to show you next time. Moving on. Coconut or almond?"
The almond took a forceful bite; the milk chocolate with the lion insignia on it melted by halves into his mouth. Then, Mohinder handed him a round piece of dark chocolate. "A chocolate truffle," he said. "The crown jewel of the collection. Enjoy it slowly." He bit into a caramel, the golden insides curling outward as he pulled his teeth away, and watched Matt intently.
Matt was afraid he was doing something wrong. He took a small bite and felt the chocolate flood into his mouth in a tidal wave of dark decadence. Before he could help himself, he was making a small sound of surprise and pleasure. Mohinder smiled.
He took another bite. Mohinder was still watching him. The candles were burning lower now, and the lighting change had moved the glow's focus from Mohinder's eyes to the hollows of his cheekbones, high and well-defined. Matt forgot where he was for a moment.
All at once, Mohinder got agitated. "Don't move!" he commanded, leaping from his seat. "I'll show you the proper thing to do." He rounded the small table, pulling up a closer chair, and sat down facing him, leaning forward. Matt felt silly for sitting there with truffle on his face, but he'd made it this far...
"Very good. Good, don't move," Mohinder said. "Lean a little forward so I can see." His voice was like a snake charmer's song, and Matt would only obey. He leaned toward Mohinder to allow him to inspect.
Mohinder leaned in and, very deliberately, licked the chocolate off his lips. One at a time, lower, then upper.
Matt sat and stared at him.
Then he jumped up and retreated to the far wall. "Mohinder-- you- you're-- all this--"
Mohinder just smiled winningly. "That was perfect."
"Are you trying to seduce me!??"
Grinning, Mohinder stood as well. "What would give you that impression?" His tone made the answer to Matt's question very clear.
"So all this is just-- there isn't--"
"You're very gullible. I think that's one reason I like you so much." The grin on his face was, no question about it, wicked.
Matt put his hand behind his head, flaming red, looking at the floor. "Is that why you asked me to stay here? You were hoping to get me in... in bed?"
"No." The voice was firm. "I asked you to stay here for Molly's sake. The bed part was a purely secondary consideration."
"You--" Matt was trying to find things to be outraged about, but with the taste of chocolate and wine and the feel of Mohinder's tongue all competing for his nerve endings, he couldn't find anything worse than, "You used some other-- some woman's present to me to seduce me? That's kind of sick."
"I kind of think it was resourceful," Mohinder laughed. "So?"
Matt's eyes were locked on him. On the chocolate-dark hair, the caramel-rich skin, the brittle almond cheekbones, the raspberry lips. "So, what?"
"So, is it working?"
Matt wanted to say no. He wanted to say no immediately. He wanted to say no immediately, run out the door, and find a nice, predictable, female one-night stand. But the moment he hesitated, he knew it was hopeless. He was transfixed. "Damn it, I never-- I didn't-- did you put something in that wine?"
Mohinder shook his head silently. Something in those eyes, Matt realized, was the real him. Flickering between the smooth seducer and the expectant cartoon puppy, they opened a window into what Mohinder was really feeling. Matt didn't need to read his mind to know what that look meant. I may be playing with you, but I am playing for keeps.
After a long moment, he looked away, turned back to the table. He could hear Mohinder suck in a breath. The sound of his disappointment was heartbreaking.
He scooped up the remainder of the chocolate truffle. "It's the crown jewel, right? You should have some." He held it out.
Mohinder didn't understand, didn't move.
Matt moved toward him, took his wrist with his free hand and opened up his palm to receive the chocolate, testing the feel, the warmth and velvet smoothness of the skin against his own. Mohinder's eyes glimmered with questions and dying candlelight. As though he were taking communion, he raised the little ball to his mouth and took a bite.
"Don't move," Matt whispered. "You have some on you."
Mohinder's arms opened to him. The chocolate went to the floor, forgotten.
The lips that touched Mohinder's were tender, slightly chapped, warm, earnest. It was an opening, a breaking down of barriers, a tremulous taste of something new and never before sampled. And it was sweeter and richer than cane sugar and molasses and butter and heavy cream, and it was so satisfying that breathing seemed unnecessary and trivial in comparison.
So they were winded when they pulled away. Mohinder put a hand to his mouth. "Do I still have some on me?" he asked, his seductive persona stripped away and the core of him exposed like so much liquid in a candy shell. He looked truly nervous, to Matt's great amusement.
"You're so gullible," he teased, tipping his forehead to bump Mohinder's lightly.
"Matt, you won't regret this," Mohinder said in a rush of earnest emotion. "I won't let you."
"I already regret it," Matt said casually. "Didn't stop me, though. I don't think it'll stop me again." But embarrassment still overcame him, and he turned back to the table. "So, uh, which one is your favorite?" he asked, peering into the half-empty box.
"The cherry cordial," Mohinder said. His voice was shy. "It's always been my favorite. Have you ever had one?" Matt shook his head. "Then you should." He leaned over Matt's shoulder and let out a sigh. "Oh, there's only one."
Matt grabbed the red heart of the candy box, winking in its crimson foil. He turned it over in his hands, unwrapped it, met Mohinder's eyes. "But that's no problem, right?"
Mohinder shivered. Matt saw unbridled want in his eyes and slightly trembling hands. That gave him courage.
And when Mohinder's lips came to meet his at the center of the candy, when their teeth tore it open and the sweet liquid and tart cherry burst into their mouths, when the milk chocolate melted into silver sweetness on their tongues-- that was the moment Matt decided that the cordial was his favorite, too.
:end:
Author: tiptoe39
Rating: PG-13 for dark themes. And milk themes. And white themes. But no carob.
Summary: This? Is food porn. Plain and simple.
This is the 23rd of 30 possible ways Matt and Mohinder could share their first kiss, written for the 30_kisses challenge. The theme was "candy" (amedama). Previous kisses are here.
Matt came home with a small, gold bag tucked under his arm. It was such a sight. Huge bear of a man, rugged in the dim light, all eyebrows and stubble and shoulders, but with a glitter of amber beneath his elbow like a purse. Mohinder chuckled to himself. "How did the interview go?"
"OK. They said they wanted to wait for my strength to come back, then they'd have to put me through testing again. Said the letter from the FBI was a huge plus, but not enough to entirely make up for the suspension. So I kind of have to start from scratch."
Mohinder was dusting. Matt watched him run a damp rag over the top of the bookcase, standing on his toes and trying to peer over it like a child after a staircase railing late on Christmas Eve. Matt shrugged off his coat, put his gloves in the pocket, and hung it up on the coatstand near the door. The brass knobs clattered at him. He sat the bag on the table. "Went by the hospital to have them look at the place that's been itching me. They say it's normal. This nurse, Emily? Apparently had been waiting for me to come so she could give me this. She said it was just season's greetings, but... yeah. That's not happening."
"I don't blame you. It's a little forward." Mohinder wandered over, read the widely spaced letters on the bag. "Godiva! Well, she must really like you."
Matt waved his hand slightly, nonplussed. "I'm really more of a Snickers guy myself. None of that fancy stuff. I was thinking I’d give it to Molly."
In a flash, Mohinder was in front of him with folded arms. "Don’t you dare," he warned sternly. "First off, she would be impossible to scrape off the ceiling for weeks. And she wouldn’t appreciate it. This is chocolate for adults."
Matt grinned. "Oh, I see how it is. You’ve got a sweet tooth."
"Perhaps a slight one. I prefer to think of myself as a gourmet," he declared in an overly snooty voice.
"You can’t even keep a straight face when saying that," Matt observed.
"At least I don’t eat Snickers," responded Mohinder disdainfully. "Even the name of that candy is laughing at you for eating it."
"You should try it sometime. So what, are we going to wolf down the whole box while she’s asleep?"
Mohinder paused a moment, then nodded. "Yes. With wine."
Matt made a gagging noise. "Why do you have to ruin perfectly good chocolate with wine?"
"You’ll see," Mohinder said, smiling.
That night, Matt left Molly's bedroom and found Mohinder at the table, his eyes lit up along with two candles. Their flames flickered in the half-full glasses of wine and small white saucers that sat in front of Mohinder's chair and the one opposite him. In the center of the table, evenly spaced between candles from east to west and wine glasses from north to south, was the box of Godiva chocolates.
Matt blanched. "This is a little weird," he said.
Mohinder smiled, and his teeth seemed to brighten the candlelight. "You need the right environment to enjoy gourmet food."
"It's candy." Matt settled down with a grimace and opened the box. There were two layers of eight candies each. He skipped over the filled ones and grabbed one of the thin wafers of dark chocolate, chomping it down in two bites.
"You have got no class whatsoever," Mohinder said critically, his brows knotting.
"Not when it comes to candy, no." Matt shrugged.
"Ugh. Don't call it that, please."
"What should I call it, then?"
"It's chocolate."
"And chocolate is a kind of...?" Matt was starting to feel irritated. Had this doctor just invited him to crash here so he could play with him? Was he about to be turned into a pet project? He still wasn't entirely clear why he was given the invitation. I mean, sure, Molly wanted him there, but... he felt a little like Eliza Doolittle, and he had no desire to suddenly become a chocolate connoisseur. Any concept he couldn't spell was out.
"Paradise," Mohinder said, tilting his head.
"Huh?"
"Paradise. Chocolate is a kind of paradise experienced initially by the tongue but felt by the whole body." Mohinder looked dead serious. His lips curled about the words like chimney smoke around a sloping rooftop. Matt found himself watching their movements. "But you need to follow the right protocols to get the most out of the experience. Much like drinking wine."
"Uh-huh." Matt sat back. He was about to get a lecture whether he wanted it or not; he might as well be comfortable for it.
"You drink half the wine now, at the start," he instructed. "The wine is a dessert wine, but it's not as sweet as the chocolate, so you have it first and let the chocolate become sweeter on your tongue by comparison. So, cheers." He lifted his glass, and Matt hurried to pick his own up. The liquid sloshed from side to side in the deep ball of the goblet. The sounds of the two glasses meeting, like a high bell or a triangle, seemed to resonate in the air for several seconds after they drank.
The wine was sweet and sort of deep and heady. Matt didn't know much about wine, either. What he knew was simply whether he liked something once he tasted it, and he liked this pretty well. He wondered if this was deliberate, part of the My Fair Lady project to turn him classy. Mohinder, after all, was watching him very carefully. He'd never before been able to feel someone's eyes on him, actually feel the weight of the gaze on his skin. When he met those eyes, it was as if he'd been knocked backward three steps; he had to look away just to keep his balance.
Mohinder set down his glass and removed the top layer of sweets, then lifted himself off the chair to peer inside. Matt was struck by his agility, the way he was able to remain at such an odd angle without wavering or trembling. His body was like liquid. It didn't shift so much as flow into new positions.
He laid a small, white, heart-shaped piece on the small plate before Matt. "Start with this one," he said. "Bite half. Let it melt on your tongue for a few seconds. Then chew. Slowly." He picked another white ball and bit into it, then was still. Gradually a smile spread over his lips. "That's perfect," he said happily.
Matt eyed the heart. He wasn't ordinarily a fan of white chocolate, but what the hell. He bit into it and fought back his urge to chew and swallow. After a moment, a sweet buttery melting began to spread across his tongue, and he thought he could smell vanilla in the back of his nostrils. His eyelids became heavy, and he thought his whole skull would slowly cave in, magnetized, moving toward the sweet center.
Mohinder watched him, arms bent at the elbow to prop his chin up on his folded wrists. Matt's shoulders were relaxing, eyes closing, big fists on the able relaxing into flat palms upturned as though in prayer. When his eyes opened again, they were calmer, lighter in color. He went for the other half of the piece.
"Slowly!" Mohinder warned. "The sugar makes you greedy. Go slowly."
Matt swallowed and looked up. "Oops," he said, making Mohinder laugh. "That was pretty good. What's next? More wine?"
"Not until the end," Mohinder admonished. "Now you have one of... let me see..." He perused the small, folded sheet of glossy paper that came inside the package."Which do you prefer, orange or raspberry?"
"Neither, with chocolate." Matt made a face.
Mohinder frowned at him. "I think you may be hopeless." His frown was sort of funny in the low light. What was the word Matt was searching for? Oh, yes. Cute. Mohinder looked cute. Like an abandoned puppy. The kind in the cartoons. Matt felt horribly weak-minded all of a sudden.
"All right. Um. Give me the orange one," he grumbled, and held out his hand.
The frown immediately flipped to a half-smile. Mohinder found the requested piece and placed it in Matt's palm. The edges of his fingertips trailed along the lines of Matt's fingers as he withdrew his hand. Matt flushed, but Mohinder was looking into the box for his raspberry creme and didn't notice.
"How am I supposed to eat this one?" Matt asked.
"Hmm. Because you don't like the tastes together, perhaps you should break it in half and try the filling first. Then you can decide if it's any good," decided Mohinder.
Matt did, though he felt sort of foolish holding the tiny candy up to his face and licking out the cream. But it was not the tart explosion he'd expected on his tongue; instead, the filling was muted, like orange sherbet, and the texture was a little bit grainy over a smooth base. "It's not bad," he said.
Mohinder ate his the same way, delicately licking out much of the raspberry cream and sucking out a little more, then closing his mouth over the chocolate shell. He shivered with the taste and looked at Matt, then laughed. "You have some cream on your lips." Matt immediately licked his lips, feeling the dot of cream come loose and sucking it inside his mouth. Mohinder pouted. "You're not supposed to do that," he said.
Again with the cute face. OK, so Matt probably pretty much telegraphed his fatal weakness when he agreed to move cross-country for an eight-year-old girl who was not even his own. But did Mohinder have to exploit it so mercilessly? "There's a certain way to clean if you get chocolate on you?"
"Yes. It's very specific," Mohinder said. "I'll have to show you next time. Moving on. Coconut or almond?"
The almond took a forceful bite; the milk chocolate with the lion insignia on it melted by halves into his mouth. Then, Mohinder handed him a round piece of dark chocolate. "A chocolate truffle," he said. "The crown jewel of the collection. Enjoy it slowly." He bit into a caramel, the golden insides curling outward as he pulled his teeth away, and watched Matt intently.
Matt was afraid he was doing something wrong. He took a small bite and felt the chocolate flood into his mouth in a tidal wave of dark decadence. Before he could help himself, he was making a small sound of surprise and pleasure. Mohinder smiled.
He took another bite. Mohinder was still watching him. The candles were burning lower now, and the lighting change had moved the glow's focus from Mohinder's eyes to the hollows of his cheekbones, high and well-defined. Matt forgot where he was for a moment.
All at once, Mohinder got agitated. "Don't move!" he commanded, leaping from his seat. "I'll show you the proper thing to do." He rounded the small table, pulling up a closer chair, and sat down facing him, leaning forward. Matt felt silly for sitting there with truffle on his face, but he'd made it this far...
"Very good. Good, don't move," Mohinder said. "Lean a little forward so I can see." His voice was like a snake charmer's song, and Matt would only obey. He leaned toward Mohinder to allow him to inspect.
Mohinder leaned in and, very deliberately, licked the chocolate off his lips. One at a time, lower, then upper.
Matt sat and stared at him.
Then he jumped up and retreated to the far wall. "Mohinder-- you- you're-- all this--"
Mohinder just smiled winningly. "That was perfect."
"Are you trying to seduce me!??"
Grinning, Mohinder stood as well. "What would give you that impression?" His tone made the answer to Matt's question very clear.
"So all this is just-- there isn't--"
"You're very gullible. I think that's one reason I like you so much." The grin on his face was, no question about it, wicked.
Matt put his hand behind his head, flaming red, looking at the floor. "Is that why you asked me to stay here? You were hoping to get me in... in bed?"
"No." The voice was firm. "I asked you to stay here for Molly's sake. The bed part was a purely secondary consideration."
"You--" Matt was trying to find things to be outraged about, but with the taste of chocolate and wine and the feel of Mohinder's tongue all competing for his nerve endings, he couldn't find anything worse than, "You used some other-- some woman's present to me to seduce me? That's kind of sick."
"I kind of think it was resourceful," Mohinder laughed. "So?"
Matt's eyes were locked on him. On the chocolate-dark hair, the caramel-rich skin, the brittle almond cheekbones, the raspberry lips. "So, what?"
"So, is it working?"
Matt wanted to say no. He wanted to say no immediately. He wanted to say no immediately, run out the door, and find a nice, predictable, female one-night stand. But the moment he hesitated, he knew it was hopeless. He was transfixed. "Damn it, I never-- I didn't-- did you put something in that wine?"
Mohinder shook his head silently. Something in those eyes, Matt realized, was the real him. Flickering between the smooth seducer and the expectant cartoon puppy, they opened a window into what Mohinder was really feeling. Matt didn't need to read his mind to know what that look meant. I may be playing with you, but I am playing for keeps.
After a long moment, he looked away, turned back to the table. He could hear Mohinder suck in a breath. The sound of his disappointment was heartbreaking.
He scooped up the remainder of the chocolate truffle. "It's the crown jewel, right? You should have some." He held it out.
Mohinder didn't understand, didn't move.
Matt moved toward him, took his wrist with his free hand and opened up his palm to receive the chocolate, testing the feel, the warmth and velvet smoothness of the skin against his own. Mohinder's eyes glimmered with questions and dying candlelight. As though he were taking communion, he raised the little ball to his mouth and took a bite.
"Don't move," Matt whispered. "You have some on you."
Mohinder's arms opened to him. The chocolate went to the floor, forgotten.
The lips that touched Mohinder's were tender, slightly chapped, warm, earnest. It was an opening, a breaking down of barriers, a tremulous taste of something new and never before sampled. And it was sweeter and richer than cane sugar and molasses and butter and heavy cream, and it was so satisfying that breathing seemed unnecessary and trivial in comparison.
So they were winded when they pulled away. Mohinder put a hand to his mouth. "Do I still have some on me?" he asked, his seductive persona stripped away and the core of him exposed like so much liquid in a candy shell. He looked truly nervous, to Matt's great amusement.
"You're so gullible," he teased, tipping his forehead to bump Mohinder's lightly.
"Matt, you won't regret this," Mohinder said in a rush of earnest emotion. "I won't let you."
"I already regret it," Matt said casually. "Didn't stop me, though. I don't think it'll stop me again." But embarrassment still overcame him, and he turned back to the table. "So, uh, which one is your favorite?" he asked, peering into the half-empty box.
"The cherry cordial," Mohinder said. His voice was shy. "It's always been my favorite. Have you ever had one?" Matt shook his head. "Then you should." He leaned over Matt's shoulder and let out a sigh. "Oh, there's only one."
Matt grabbed the red heart of the candy box, winking in its crimson foil. He turned it over in his hands, unwrapped it, met Mohinder's eyes. "But that's no problem, right?"
Mohinder shivered. Matt saw unbridled want in his eyes and slightly trembling hands. That gave him courage.
And when Mohinder's lips came to meet his at the center of the candy, when their teeth tore it open and the sweet liquid and tart cherry burst into their mouths, when the milk chocolate melted into silver sweetness on their tongues-- that was the moment Matt decided that the cordial was his favorite, too.
:end: