Heroes: "Easy Way Out" (PG-13)
Easy Way Out
Heroes. PG-13. Matt/Mohinder, Molly. 2,102 words.
"Cop shoots himself in the foot: local news at 11."
Written for the lgbtfest prompt: 440. Heroes: Matt Parkman. Why he doesn't act on his own feelings for Mohinder because of the comments of his co-workers, especially the things they don't say out loud.
Beta by gritkitty and nestra.
Matt turned in his paperwork to HR the same day he got his new badge. He wasn't sure how to fill it out, so he put down Mohinder as his emergency contact and listed Janice as a backup; even though they weren't married anymore, he still trusted her to do the right thing if something bad happened. Mohinder was always traveling lately, and Matt didn't have anybody else.
Molly went on Matt's insurance. And filling out that paperwork was almost as bad as getting shot four times in the chest.
Matt hated paperwork with the passion of a thousand pissed-off commuters on the 405. Mostly because he was bad at it, and because Matt wasn't too fond of anything that made him feel lost, helpless, and dumb.
Matt eavesdropped on his HR Rep, Sandy, as she was glancing through his forms. She stuttered over Mohinder's name, and the doubt in her mind smelled like a whiff of sour milk. When she noticed that their home addresses were the same, she thought, "Maybe his girlfriend is Indian? I wonder if she's pretty."
Sandy was older than Matt by about fifteen years, ash blonde and lonely. Her two sons never called, and her balding bastard of an ex-husband married a twenty-two-year-old last year. And Matt got most of that just by looking at her desk.
Mohinder wasn't just pretty; he looked like a movie star. Matt wished he could tell her, but he had a lot of secrets to keep these days.
And Matt had enough to deal with being the new guy at work. Walking through the hallways, it was a constant murmur, snatches of words, "hear he's from L.A." and "-- thinks he's a hotshot, doesn't look like much to --" and "-- give him two weeks, tops."
Nobody thought he could hump this job except the guy who hired him, not even Matt, if he was being honest. Detective was his dream job and he had to cheat to get it, and the truth was that he felt guiltier for snapping at Molly for questioning him on it than he did for using his powers to pass the tests.
Matt was pretty sure that was a warning sign of something.
*
"Pizza again? Are you sure you're an adult?" Molly asked when Matt turned away from the front door with a box in his hands.
"You wanna pay my taxes and go to the office, be my guest," Matt told her.
"I think I should finish elementary school first," Molly said, and took a big bite of pizza. She looked thoughtful as she chewed. "Plus, I don't think they'll let me have a gun."
Matt tried not to freak out at the mental image of Molly with a weapon in her hands. "Less talking, more eating."
Matt could boil water, make mac and cheese and grill a hamburger, but he didn't know how to make a meal, not for a growing girl. He'd always wanted kids, but now that he had Molly, he was realizing exactly how unprepared he was to take care of another human being.
When Mohinder came home in the middle of the night, Matt was grumpy with him. His back hurt from falling asleep in a chair next to Molly's bed, and he hated that Mohinder was putting himself -- all of them -- in danger. But he was so ridiculously grateful to have Mohinder back with them full-time and sharing the responsibilities that he insisted Mohinder take the bed and crashed on the lumpy sofa.
Matt woke up to the sound of someone cooking. He wandered into the kitchen and found Mohinder in an A-shirt and pajama pants, making something that looked like a crêpe. It smelled delicious, and Matt thought that he could kiss him, kiss his shoulder or the back of his neck the way he always did with Janice first thing in the morning.
Matt didn't. He said, "God, thank you, Molly's going to flip when she wakes up."
Mohinder laughed. "I saw the tower of pizza boxes."
Matt shrugged and took the plate that Mohinder handed him. He lifted it to his nose and took an experimental sniff. "What is this?"
"Masala dosa with coconut chutney."
Matt had no idea what that was, but he dug in anyway and made a moaning noise around his fork.
Mohinder was smiling at him fondly when Molly ran into the kitchen and hugged Mohinder's leg. "You made real food!"
"I did," Mohinder said. "Sit. What would you like to drink?"
Matt used the bathroom while they were both eating breakfast and then put on his suit. She was demanding seconds when he left for work.
*
Matt answered his cell with a distracted, "Parkman."
"Have you eaten lunch yet?"
Matt blinked and looked at his watch, nearly upending a cup of cold coffee into his lap. "Uh, yeah, no."
Mohinder made a pleased noise. "Molly and I are out front."
"Wait, what?" Matt asked. "Shouldn't she be in school?"
"You left this morning before she could tell you that she only had a half-day today," Mohinder said.
"Oh," Matt said. "Shouldn't you be at work?"
There was an amused lilt to Mohinder's voice when he said, "The Company knows about our living situation and promises to be flexible about scheduling."
"Huh." That was one really unexpected side-benefit to Mohinder's spy job.
"Lunch?" Mohinder prompted.
"Oh, yeah," Matt said. He put down his coffee mug and locked up some files in his desk. "I'll be right out."
All the guys within earshot of his desk were amused, their thoughts tart like green apples: "whipped" and "got him wrapped around her little --" and "man, now I'm hungry."
Matt hurried out of the building. Mohinder and Molly were out front and to the side, holding hands out of the way of foot traffic and with matching grins on their faces. Mohinder was wearing a pink button-down. Molly had on the kitty T-shirt that she hated, and Matt realized that he'd forgotten to do laundry last night. Shit.
"I don't know about you guys, but I'm starving," Matt said. He put his hand on the small of Mohinder's back to hurry them along. Matt heard a weird little explosion, like the noise somebody made when he was drinking coffee and it went down the wrong pipe. Matt turned a little and saw one of his new coworkers watching them. Mark Johnson. He was three desks over from Matt.
"Matt?" Mohinder said, and touched his arm.
"Jesus, I didn't know Parkman was a fag," Johnson thought.
Matt wanted to punch Johnson in the nose because it wasn't like that, even if it could be, maybe. It was just that Johnson was being a dick about Matt's family, and -- Janice had always hated how protective Matt got, but deep down, Matt believed that his family was going to leave him because that was what they'd always done. It made him cling too hard, and he didn't really know how to stop.
Molly grabbed his hand and tugged on it. "Matt?"
Mohinder pressed his hand down on Matt's shoulder, hard enough to hurt. "Whatever you're hearing --"
"It's not worth it," Matt agreed. "So. Where are we going for lunch?"
"Molly wants Cuban," Mohinder said.
"You like Cuban food?" Matt asked her.
Molly shrugged and tugged on Matt's hand again. "I've never had it."
"There's no time like the present," Mohinder said.
"Well, yeah, we could all die tomorrow," Matt muttered under his breath.
Molly shook her head at Mohinder. "He gets like this when he's hungry."
Mohinder gently shoved him down the stairs. "I suppose we ought to feed him, then."
*
When Matt came back from lunch, he could feel the thoughts of his coworkers. They hung low like storm clouds and reeked of hot garbage. He didn't open his mind. He didn't want to know. The whispers that slipped through were almost wordless, and they felt rotten, like squishy black bananas.
Matt still wasn't good at using his powers, but he could tell that the stink eye wasn't coming from all of them. Williams and Garcia didn't give a shit, and Davis thought it was weird, but whatever.
He might be able to make a few friends, if he was careful.
*
"Hey, do you need to use the bathroom before I take a shower?" Matt asked.
Mohinder looked up from his laptop. "No, thank you. I'm fine."
"'kay," Matt said as he shut the bathroom door and started the shower. Matt was washing his hair when he heard a whispery, almost sibilant noise, like somebody turning a page in a glossy magazine. He tried really hard not to listen to Mohinder and Molly when they didn't know he was doing it, although he made exceptions for Molly's nightmares, but sometimes his mind drifted and he didn't realize it until it was clear that the thoughts he was thinking weren't his own.
He thought he was minding his own business when there was a quick flash in his brain -- like lightning or an unexpected photograph -- of this image of Matt, naked and wet. He broke into a sweat under the hot water, shampoo stinging in his eyes. Matt's left hand slipped along the tile as he reached out for balance, and with his right he pushed at his cock with the heel of his palm.
With a blink, the image was gone and Matt was half-hard.
He finished his shower quickly before he used all the hot water. Mohinder barely looked up from his laptop when Matt said he was going to bed, just muttered an absent, "Good night."
It was his turn on the bed. Matt stared at the ceiling for a couple of decades before he fell asleep.
*
Matt was so out of it the next morning that Molly put her hand on his forehead and peered into his eyes when he sat at the kitchen table.
"You don't feel hot," she said.
Matt leaned away from her hand. "I'm fine. Nothing a gallon of coffee can't fix."
"Coffee's bad for you," Molly said mulishly.
"Coffee is beautiful and wonderful and the gift that keeps on giving, but it stunts your growth, so don't even think about drinking it," Matt said.
"Whatever," Molly said. "Mohinder, Matt's being weird."
"Hmm," Mohinder said.
"You're ignoring me," Molly said.
"Hmm," Mohinder said again, hiding his smile behind a giant mug of chai.
Matt forgot his tie and had to go back to the apartment a second time for his wallet, so when Mohinder called him an hour after he got to work, he simply moaned, "Oh, god, don't tell me."
"Don't tell you what?" Mohinder asked.
"Whatever it was I forgot to do this morning. At least I remembered to put on my pants."
"We're all grateful that you remembered your pants," Mohinder said.
"You can stop mocking me anytime now," Matt said. He twirled his pen and shifted in his chair. Davis was looking at him funny.
"I just wanted to remind you that Molly has a dentist appointment at 4:30," Mohinder said.
Matt slapped his palm on his desk. "Right, right. I said I'd take her."
"I can --"
"No, Mohinder, it's fine. I got this one," Matt said.
There was a voice in the background, and Mohinder said, "I have to go."
"Yeah, I'll see you later," Matt said, and hung up.
A moment later, Davis scooted his wheeled desk chair close and said, "Hey."
"Yeah?" Matt said.
"Look," Davis said, glancing over his shoulder nervously. Even his thoughts smelled like sweat. "Look, I don't care what you do when you're not here. I mean, within reason."
Matt started at Davis' hands. His fingernails were ragged. "I'm not following you."
"I'm just saying, some of the guys aren't too cool with it, so you should keep your boyfriend on the down low."
Matt tried to laugh it off, but his throat was tight and something twisted in his stomach. "Man, I don't even know what you're talking about."
Davis spread his hands. "I'm just saying."
"Seriously, there's nothing going on," Matt said. He realized that he was talking too loud and dropped his voice. "I don't... I'm not -- I'm not."
Davis smiled and gave him a hearty smack on the shoulder. "Good. That's good."
Matt felt like he was going to throw up. "Yeah, good."
"Hey, that your daughter?" Davis asked, nodding at the picture of Molly on Matt's desk.
Matt said, "Yeah. She's gorgeous, isn't she? Gets that from her mom."
the end.
Heroes. PG-13. Matt/Mohinder, Molly. 2,102 words.
"Cop shoots himself in the foot: local news at 11."
Written for the lgbtfest prompt: 440. Heroes: Matt Parkman. Why he doesn't act on his own feelings for Mohinder because of the comments of his co-workers, especially the things they don't say out loud.
Beta by gritkitty and nestra.
Matt turned in his paperwork to HR the same day he got his new badge. He wasn't sure how to fill it out, so he put down Mohinder as his emergency contact and listed Janice as a backup; even though they weren't married anymore, he still trusted her to do the right thing if something bad happened. Mohinder was always traveling lately, and Matt didn't have anybody else.
Molly went on Matt's insurance. And filling out that paperwork was almost as bad as getting shot four times in the chest.
Matt hated paperwork with the passion of a thousand pissed-off commuters on the 405. Mostly because he was bad at it, and because Matt wasn't too fond of anything that made him feel lost, helpless, and dumb.
Matt eavesdropped on his HR Rep, Sandy, as she was glancing through his forms. She stuttered over Mohinder's name, and the doubt in her mind smelled like a whiff of sour milk. When she noticed that their home addresses were the same, she thought, "Maybe his girlfriend is Indian? I wonder if she's pretty."
Sandy was older than Matt by about fifteen years, ash blonde and lonely. Her two sons never called, and her balding bastard of an ex-husband married a twenty-two-year-old last year. And Matt got most of that just by looking at her desk.
Mohinder wasn't just pretty; he looked like a movie star. Matt wished he could tell her, but he had a lot of secrets to keep these days.
And Matt had enough to deal with being the new guy at work. Walking through the hallways, it was a constant murmur, snatches of words, "hear he's from L.A." and "-- thinks he's a hotshot, doesn't look like much to --" and "-- give him two weeks, tops."
Nobody thought he could hump this job except the guy who hired him, not even Matt, if he was being honest. Detective was his dream job and he had to cheat to get it, and the truth was that he felt guiltier for snapping at Molly for questioning him on it than he did for using his powers to pass the tests.
Matt was pretty sure that was a warning sign of something.
*
"Pizza again? Are you sure you're an adult?" Molly asked when Matt turned away from the front door with a box in his hands.
"You wanna pay my taxes and go to the office, be my guest," Matt told her.
"I think I should finish elementary school first," Molly said, and took a big bite of pizza. She looked thoughtful as she chewed. "Plus, I don't think they'll let me have a gun."
Matt tried not to freak out at the mental image of Molly with a weapon in her hands. "Less talking, more eating."
Matt could boil water, make mac and cheese and grill a hamburger, but he didn't know how to make a meal, not for a growing girl. He'd always wanted kids, but now that he had Molly, he was realizing exactly how unprepared he was to take care of another human being.
When Mohinder came home in the middle of the night, Matt was grumpy with him. His back hurt from falling asleep in a chair next to Molly's bed, and he hated that Mohinder was putting himself -- all of them -- in danger. But he was so ridiculously grateful to have Mohinder back with them full-time and sharing the responsibilities that he insisted Mohinder take the bed and crashed on the lumpy sofa.
Matt woke up to the sound of someone cooking. He wandered into the kitchen and found Mohinder in an A-shirt and pajama pants, making something that looked like a crêpe. It smelled delicious, and Matt thought that he could kiss him, kiss his shoulder or the back of his neck the way he always did with Janice first thing in the morning.
Matt didn't. He said, "God, thank you, Molly's going to flip when she wakes up."
Mohinder laughed. "I saw the tower of pizza boxes."
Matt shrugged and took the plate that Mohinder handed him. He lifted it to his nose and took an experimental sniff. "What is this?"
"Masala dosa with coconut chutney."
Matt had no idea what that was, but he dug in anyway and made a moaning noise around his fork.
Mohinder was smiling at him fondly when Molly ran into the kitchen and hugged Mohinder's leg. "You made real food!"
"I did," Mohinder said. "Sit. What would you like to drink?"
Matt used the bathroom while they were both eating breakfast and then put on his suit. She was demanding seconds when he left for work.
*
Matt answered his cell with a distracted, "Parkman."
"Have you eaten lunch yet?"
Matt blinked and looked at his watch, nearly upending a cup of cold coffee into his lap. "Uh, yeah, no."
Mohinder made a pleased noise. "Molly and I are out front."
"Wait, what?" Matt asked. "Shouldn't she be in school?"
"You left this morning before she could tell you that she only had a half-day today," Mohinder said.
"Oh," Matt said. "Shouldn't you be at work?"
There was an amused lilt to Mohinder's voice when he said, "The Company knows about our living situation and promises to be flexible about scheduling."
"Huh." That was one really unexpected side-benefit to Mohinder's spy job.
"Lunch?" Mohinder prompted.
"Oh, yeah," Matt said. He put down his coffee mug and locked up some files in his desk. "I'll be right out."
All the guys within earshot of his desk were amused, their thoughts tart like green apples: "whipped" and "got him wrapped around her little --" and "man, now I'm hungry."
Matt hurried out of the building. Mohinder and Molly were out front and to the side, holding hands out of the way of foot traffic and with matching grins on their faces. Mohinder was wearing a pink button-down. Molly had on the kitty T-shirt that she hated, and Matt realized that he'd forgotten to do laundry last night. Shit.
"I don't know about you guys, but I'm starving," Matt said. He put his hand on the small of Mohinder's back to hurry them along. Matt heard a weird little explosion, like the noise somebody made when he was drinking coffee and it went down the wrong pipe. Matt turned a little and saw one of his new coworkers watching them. Mark Johnson. He was three desks over from Matt.
"Matt?" Mohinder said, and touched his arm.
"Jesus, I didn't know Parkman was a fag," Johnson thought.
Matt wanted to punch Johnson in the nose because it wasn't like that, even if it could be, maybe. It was just that Johnson was being a dick about Matt's family, and -- Janice had always hated how protective Matt got, but deep down, Matt believed that his family was going to leave him because that was what they'd always done. It made him cling too hard, and he didn't really know how to stop.
Molly grabbed his hand and tugged on it. "Matt?"
Mohinder pressed his hand down on Matt's shoulder, hard enough to hurt. "Whatever you're hearing --"
"It's not worth it," Matt agreed. "So. Where are we going for lunch?"
"Molly wants Cuban," Mohinder said.
"You like Cuban food?" Matt asked her.
Molly shrugged and tugged on Matt's hand again. "I've never had it."
"There's no time like the present," Mohinder said.
"Well, yeah, we could all die tomorrow," Matt muttered under his breath.
Molly shook her head at Mohinder. "He gets like this when he's hungry."
Mohinder gently shoved him down the stairs. "I suppose we ought to feed him, then."
*
When Matt came back from lunch, he could feel the thoughts of his coworkers. They hung low like storm clouds and reeked of hot garbage. He didn't open his mind. He didn't want to know. The whispers that slipped through were almost wordless, and they felt rotten, like squishy black bananas.
Matt still wasn't good at using his powers, but he could tell that the stink eye wasn't coming from all of them. Williams and Garcia didn't give a shit, and Davis thought it was weird, but whatever.
He might be able to make a few friends, if he was careful.
*
"Hey, do you need to use the bathroom before I take a shower?" Matt asked.
Mohinder looked up from his laptop. "No, thank you. I'm fine."
"'kay," Matt said as he shut the bathroom door and started the shower. Matt was washing his hair when he heard a whispery, almost sibilant noise, like somebody turning a page in a glossy magazine. He tried really hard not to listen to Mohinder and Molly when they didn't know he was doing it, although he made exceptions for Molly's nightmares, but sometimes his mind drifted and he didn't realize it until it was clear that the thoughts he was thinking weren't his own.
He thought he was minding his own business when there was a quick flash in his brain -- like lightning or an unexpected photograph -- of this image of Matt, naked and wet. He broke into a sweat under the hot water, shampoo stinging in his eyes. Matt's left hand slipped along the tile as he reached out for balance, and with his right he pushed at his cock with the heel of his palm.
With a blink, the image was gone and Matt was half-hard.
He finished his shower quickly before he used all the hot water. Mohinder barely looked up from his laptop when Matt said he was going to bed, just muttered an absent, "Good night."
It was his turn on the bed. Matt stared at the ceiling for a couple of decades before he fell asleep.
*
Matt was so out of it the next morning that Molly put her hand on his forehead and peered into his eyes when he sat at the kitchen table.
"You don't feel hot," she said.
Matt leaned away from her hand. "I'm fine. Nothing a gallon of coffee can't fix."
"Coffee's bad for you," Molly said mulishly.
"Coffee is beautiful and wonderful and the gift that keeps on giving, but it stunts your growth, so don't even think about drinking it," Matt said.
"Whatever," Molly said. "Mohinder, Matt's being weird."
"Hmm," Mohinder said.
"You're ignoring me," Molly said.
"Hmm," Mohinder said again, hiding his smile behind a giant mug of chai.
Matt forgot his tie and had to go back to the apartment a second time for his wallet, so when Mohinder called him an hour after he got to work, he simply moaned, "Oh, god, don't tell me."
"Don't tell you what?" Mohinder asked.
"Whatever it was I forgot to do this morning. At least I remembered to put on my pants."
"We're all grateful that you remembered your pants," Mohinder said.
"You can stop mocking me anytime now," Matt said. He twirled his pen and shifted in his chair. Davis was looking at him funny.
"I just wanted to remind you that Molly has a dentist appointment at 4:30," Mohinder said.
Matt slapped his palm on his desk. "Right, right. I said I'd take her."
"I can --"
"No, Mohinder, it's fine. I got this one," Matt said.
There was a voice in the background, and Mohinder said, "I have to go."
"Yeah, I'll see you later," Matt said, and hung up.
A moment later, Davis scooted his wheeled desk chair close and said, "Hey."
"Yeah?" Matt said.
"Look," Davis said, glancing over his shoulder nervously. Even his thoughts smelled like sweat. "Look, I don't care what you do when you're not here. I mean, within reason."
Matt started at Davis' hands. His fingernails were ragged. "I'm not following you."
"I'm just saying, some of the guys aren't too cool with it, so you should keep your boyfriend on the down low."
Matt tried to laugh it off, but his throat was tight and something twisted in his stomach. "Man, I don't even know what you're talking about."
Davis spread his hands. "I'm just saying."
"Seriously, there's nothing going on," Matt said. He realized that he was talking too loud and dropped his voice. "I don't... I'm not -- I'm not."
Davis smiled and gave him a hearty smack on the shoulder. "Good. That's good."
Matt felt like he was going to throw up. "Yeah, good."
"Hey, that your daughter?" Davis asked, nodding at the picture of Molly on Matt's desk.
Matt said, "Yeah. She's gorgeous, isn't she? Gets that from her mom."
the end.