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I don't know what's wrong with me today.  Yesterday I was in such a good mood now I'm feeling all blah.  I'm pretty sure I'm sick.  Again.  Woke up with morning sickness, minus the pregnancy, and just felt like crap all day.  Tired and lethargic even though I got plenty of sleep.  Nausea has passed although I still feel tired. I have absolutely no energy at all.  And now I have a migraine.  And my brother is playing Guitar Hero.  Badly.   OMG it hurts!   Maybe it's because my spring break ends tomorrow and I know I have to pack tonight.

Egghh...I'm taking a nap.


Yay for Biology

So it's official; I'm lopsided.  Seriously.  I went bowling with my brothers and sister today and I sucked.  Not that I was expecting anything less but it wasn't my fault!  My ball kept rolling into the right gutter and I couldn't figure out why.  My sister told me to step to the left and the ball just got to the gutter later.  I stepped to the right and actually hit a pin!.  So I'm blaming how awful I am at bowling on biology.  I don't suck at bowling, I'm lopsided.

On the plus side I had a lot of fun.  After the debacle that was yesterday, today was great.  I woke up with a smile that only got bigger when I checked my mail.  I got a package that I had been waiting for and it had a wonderful little surprise that put me in a good mood all day.  I was so happy I made a red velvet cake from scratch, although the maternal figure wasn't too happy when I fed some the batter to the dogs and it stained their teeth red.  It came out pretty good, although my brother ruined the top by trying to ice it without the proper training.  Went bowling and laughed my ass off, even though my highest score was 50.  I AM NOT ASHAMED!!!  I blame genetics for my lack of bowling skillz.

All in all a good day.



Epically, epically awful day.  We had a power outage and my alarm didn't go off so I woke up late.  Not only did I wake up late, my sister and my mother woke up late.  Three girls frantically running around to get ready and only one bathroom.  Nice.  My sister missed her bus which meant I had to take her to school on my way to work which made me late to work.  This earned me a "responsibility" lecture from my boss.  Honestly, there wasn't even any work today and I got yelled at for being 5 minutes late.  Grrr.  Then I was attached by a huge ass freaking spider that was hiding in a mop.  Hiding in a mop!  It ran across my shoe and scared the hell out of me so I jumped fifty feet in the air and gave myself a concussion on the shelf and was attacked by falling paper towels.  I was walking down the hall and heard someone calling for Brittany.  My name isn't Brittany and I don't answer to it so I just ignored it.  Bitchy Amy tried to yell at me for not responding but my name is not Brittany.  I've worked there long enough for her to know that.  Then I showered in bathroom cleaner.  Literally.  I was trying to work one of those stupid pull this lever and push this button while standing on  your head things and the hose or something was loose and next thing I know I'm soaked with cleaner.  I have to take a shower right away because that stuff freaking burns with cheap soap.  So now I'm itchy because I'm allergic to the soap and red because of the stupid cleaner and I can't even itch because it hurts and I'm not happy!  And I have to clean the bathroom to boot.  I'm stuck wearing my brother's clothes that have been in my car for a week now that I keep telling him he needs to get rid of.  He's seriously two feet taller than me so that was a fun experience.

On the plus side it was 50 degrees today!  Not that I got to enjoy the weather.  And my sister and I taught a friends two year old daughter to say "check it".  It's adorable.

Now I'm going to bed and sulking.


Fic: The road of Destiny (7/?)f

Title: The road of Destiny (7/?)
Author: crystal_mk
Pairing: Matt/Mohinder
Rating: PG-13 for this part, NC-17 for it on the whole
Summary: Destiny writes the road, but do we get to choose whether or not we follow?
Warnings: angst, CHARACTER DEATH!
Disclaimer: I own nothing nor am I making money




Another two weeks had come and gone since I had been left alone.  Two weeks since Matthew had finally had enough of my games and left, taking our daughter with him.  Two weeks since I heard Molly’s cartoons in the morning and smelled her bubble gum scented shampoo when I took a shower.  Two weeks since I heard her laughter and felt her tight hugs when I came home from work and kissed her goodnight after bedtime stories.  It had been two weeks since I tripped over Matt’s shoes in the doorway and smelled his coffee percolating as I made it, because I knew how much he needed it in the morning even though I personally couldn’t stand the stuff.  Two weeks since I woke up to his good morning kisses and heard his soft snores in my ear at night and felt his arms sneak around me while I cooked dinner or did the dishes when he thought Molly wasn’t looking.

I never realized how long fourteen days really are until I had to live them without Matthew and Molly.

The apartment I had called home for two years was now a cold, barren new world, as unfamiliar as the landscape of Mars.  I could barely stand to be home for long enough to take a quick shower, change into clean clothes, or at least less filthy clothes, and maybe catch a few hours of sleep if I was lucky.  I called Matthew’s cell phone every day, every hour, desperately trying to get in contact with him.  I just needed to know that he and Molly were safe, needed the chance to beg him to come home to me.  To plead with him that I needed them, that I couldn’t do this without them; I needed him.  He never picked up his phone or answered any of my million messages.

I went to Peter for help but he insisted that he had no idea where Matthew and Molly were, nor did he know how to get a hold of them.  He couldn’t find them because I had never allowed him close enough to Molly to absorb her ability.  Of course, he only told me all this after he read my mind to see whether or not I was still working with Bennet.

And I was.

Work was the only part of my life that contained any sort of hope.  I worked non-stop, spending more and more time in the lab each day.  It had paid off.   I was just one breakthrough away from creating this new strain of virus.  Unfortunately my new work habits gained the attention of Bob and it reached the point where he finally confronted me on it.  He sent Julie (Annie?)  to the lab early one morning to “collect” me.

“Mr. Bishop says to tell you to just go right in.  Don’t even bother knocking,” she informed me when we reached his office, not even bothering to look up from the nail she was diligently inspecting to avoid looking at me.

I knocked anyways, cautiously entering when Bob yelled to me, “Come right in Mohinder.”

“You wanted to see me?” I asked hesitantly, sitting down in the seat he motioned to with a blithe wave of his hand.

“Yes actually, I was hoping to talk to you about work,” he said, steepling his fingers and regarding me with a pensive expression, “You’ve been spending more time at the lab than usual.  You didn’t leave until after one this morning and were back in by six.  As much as I admire your work ethic Mohinder, I have to question the sudden change in behavior.”

I had been preparing for this confrontation for a couple days, knowing that it was only a matter of time before Bob caught on.

“I’ve been working on the virus and have made some substantial progress, as you can see in the reports I’ve been preparing for you.  I’m very close to pinpointing the exact gene on the virus’ genetic code that codes for the physical effects that eventually kill the infected individual.  I’m just afraid of missing something that could help us,” I lied smoothly.

However, this wasn’t sufficient argument to convince Bob enough to deter him from his suspicions, “As delighted as I am with your wonderful progress, and I don’t doubt that it is at least part of the reason you’ve been working so hard, I can’t help but feel that maybe there’s something more to the story.  We’re all friends here Mohinder, if you you’re having problems or just need a friendly ear, I’m always here for you.”

I floundered for a moment, thrown for a loop by Bob’s unexpected concern, false concern of course, but concern nonetheless.  I was expecting him to dance with glee (not literally, I hope) that I’m at last devoting the majority of my time to Company work.  I was unsure of how to respond and it took me a minute to recover, but thankfully he provided me the out I was searching for.

“Is everything alright at home?  Is it Molly?  Is she having nightmares again,” he asked me.

Cue light bulb please.  “No, no it’s not Molly.  She is fine, perfect even.  She is simply wonderful.”  I paused for a moment, trying to look like I was struggling with myself before finally taking a deep breath and continuing.  “I’m going to level with you Bob because as you said, we are friends and I feel like I should tell you everything.  You deserve to know the whole truth.  Matthew and I have been having some issues with our relationship.”

He blinked at me, surprise written across his face, “Mr. Parkman?  What sort of problem could you two be having?  Is he unhappy with your arrangement?  Does he want to move out, get a place of his own?  I was operating under the assumption that he was very much  attached to Molly as well.”

“Oh no, he adores Molly.   He loves her like a daughter; we both do.  It’s not that he wants to move out.  He’s quite happy with our arrangement as is.  That is the problem.”

“Oh, I’m sorry but I don’t see the problem with that.  Unless you want him to move out.”

“Of course not!  I’m extremely happy having Matthew living with me.  The uh..Well you see, the problem is a bit complicated.”  I made a show of tugging on my collar and playing with strands of my hair, using body language to convey an uncomfortable situation, “You see, our…well it’s our love life.  I’m afraid we’ve fallen into a bit of a funk.”

“Love…life…?” he asked, eyes widening and darting back and forth.

“Well we uh, we just seem to be in a rut if you know what I mean.  There’s no more romance, no more excitement.  It’s all so vanilla and plain.  It’s become dull and repetitive.  The problem is, I’m the only one who seems to notice it.  Matthew is quite content with things the way they are.  I miss how we were in the beginning.”  It was a physical effort not to smirk at his deer in the headlights expression, looking more distressed than he did when he heard that Maury Parkman was coming after him (which didn’t really take a lot).  “In the beginning it was new and exhilarating.  We were adventurous and loved trying new things and positions…”

Bob visibly blanched and he interrupted me, stuttering, “I-I..I’m sorry Mohinder, b-but I’m going to have to cut this conversation short.  I just remembered a previous engagement.”

“Oh,” I said, “I apologize, I didn’t mean to take up so much your time,” I said quickly, stumbling to my feet.

“Don’t worry,” Bob assured me, leading me to the door with a hand on my shoulder, “That’s what friends are for you know.  I hope you and Mr. Parkman manage to work things out.”

“I do too.  And thank you for your concern,” I said, managing to sound as genuinely grateful as was expected of me.

Carol (Sara?)  didn’t even lift her  head to acknowledge my goodbye, a quick wave farewell as I was running for the door.  I didn’t trust myself not to start laughing out loud at the absurdity of the whole situation.  I was able to resist laughing until I made it back to my lab, bolting for the restroom.  I allowed the snorting giggles to escape as I shut the door quickly and leaned against it.  Bob’s face when I started talking about new positions and being adventurous was just priceless.  I could only imagine what Matthew will say when I tell him tonight.

I suddenly froze, realizing what I was just thinking.  The laughter died in a strangled gurgle in my chest as I caught sight of myself in the mirror.  Eyes still bright with merriment, lips upturned in a shadow of my former smile; all at the thought of what a man who no longer lived with me would think when I go home to an empty apartment.  And now, instead of looking like someone who just shared a funny joke I looked like a man haunted by a previous happiness that I was trying to recapture with false smiles.

I sank onto the floor, leaning my back against the door with a heavy sigh.  It was so easy to forget but so much easier to remember that there won’t be anybody waiting at home for me.  No little girl hugs and squeals of delight to greet me.  No strong arms and soft lips to welcome me home.  I brought my knees up to my chest, leaning against them and taking deep breath as I squeezed my eyes shut to keep the hot tears from falling. 

I will not cry.  I refuse.  When this is over and Sylar is truly dead and gone, I’ll win Matthew back and we will be a family again.  There was no other way for it to happen.

I splashed some cold water on my face to help compose myself before heading back out.  Even though the cameras had been turned off a long time ago, only turning on when I trip them, anyone could just stop in and I wasn’t particularly inclined to face Elle with red eyes.  I spent the rest of the day working until around eleven when Bennet appeared.

“How’s everything going?” he asked immediately, nodding to the computer in front of me.

“We’re close,” I answered shortly.

“How soon will it be ready?” he persisted.

“A week, couple days maybe.  Why are you suddenly so impatient?” I asked warily.

“Sylar will be arriving sooner than expected,” he answered nonchalantly.

“What do you mean?  Ho much sooner?” I fired back.

“He’ll be arriving in about two days.”

“Two days! That’s not enough time Noah.  The virus won’t be completed by then.  You told me I still had another two weeks before we had to worry about Sylar,” I said, beginning to pace frantically.  The plan that has been falling into place so nicely was now just as nicely falling apart.

“Well then I suppose you’ll just have to work harder.”

I answered him with a glare, never pausing in my pacing.

“This brings us to our next problem.  When you confronted Sylar, we were supposed to have our Haitian friend present to make the going a bit easier.  With the change in times he won’t be able to make it.”

“You’re fucking kidding me?  Please tell me you’re fucking kidding me!” I exploded in a rare bout of expletives.

“I’ll be on the street in case things go wrong,” Bennet said in a poor attempt to alleviate my worry.

It didn’t work.

“That makes me feel so much safer thank you.  Knowing that you’re six flights down is a great comfort.  If things do fly out the window he’ll have killed me three times over and be in Canada by the time you get up there.”

“Listen to me Mohinder.  Just because you have to face Sylar alone doesn’t mean the plan has changed or that it won’t succeed.”

“He won’t be facing Sylar alone,” a familiar voice came from behind us.

I turned to see Matthew standing in the doorway and I almost fainted with relief to see him.  I felt my knees wobble with the force of it and grabbed the desk next to me for support.

“Mohinder won’t be alone,” Matthew said again, starting towards us and stopping in front of Bennet.

“Sylar will know you’re there.  He’ll be able to hear that Mohinder isn’t alone.  The whole operation hinges on him thinking Mohinder is alone in the apartment,” Bennet argued, annoyance flashing across his face as his hands clenched in a visible sign of frustration.

“He’ll be hearing everybody.  He won’t be able to distinguish a heartbeat from one apartment to the next.  I am not going to leave Mohinder alone with the bastard.  Deal with it,” Matthew said, finality in his voice sounding like the clash of the judge’s gavel.

Bennet narrowed his eyes at Matthew and for a moment I thought he was going to argue but in the end just nodded his agreement.  Matthew nodded back before turning to me.  I felt all the happiness and relief at him being there fly out of my body.  His eyes were cold and he didn’t return my hesitant smile.

“Let’s go Mohinder.  We’re going home.”

I nodded immediately and moved to shut the computer down when the door banging open had us all jumping and whipping around to see what had caused the sudden noise.  Matthew and Bennet had their guns drawn and aimed at the intruder.


He looked like death warmed over twice.  He was pale and shaking, looking confused and in shock.  His eyes were red and raw from crying.  He looked nothing like the cool, confident Bob I had met with just this afternoon.  Matthew and Bennet slowly lowered their weapons at his outstretched hand, sharing a glance of mutual distrust.

“Bob?  What’s happened?” I asked, stepping forward in concern.  Matthew held a hand to stop me, shaking his head at me.

“Elle’s dead,” Bob muttered.

“What?” I asked stunned.

“Elle is dead,” he said with more force.

“W-what happened?” I asked hoarsely.

He stumbled in, sitting down heavily in chair.  “It was Sylar.  We got a report from one of our contacts in Wyoming that he was seen traveling through the state.  I sent Elle down to check it out.  He must have been waiting for her.  He…he killed her, stole her ability.  Our contact just called to tell me they found her body.  He..He killed her, he killed my little girl,” Bob said.

He suddenly let out a ragged sob, hunching down as he started crying.  I pushed Matthew’s hand away and rushed over to him, awkwardly patting his back and making shushing noises.  Just as suddenly, he sat up straight, dragging a hand over his eyes to wipe the tears away.  His former grief was transformed into steely determination.

“How close are you really to adjusting the virus?” he asked me.

I looked at Matthew and Bennet questioningly.  I had no idea how to respond.

“Well…” I began.

“That’s not what he’s working on,” Matthew said, interrupting me.  Bob shot me a confused look while Bennet glared hatefully at Matthew.

“Why don’t you explain to Bob just what’s really going on,” Matthew suggested.

“Yes Mohinder, why don’t you?” Bob echoed.

I glanced helpless at Bennet before turning to Bob, “I’ve actually been trying to create a strain of the virus that will specifically attack Sylar’s genetic code.  Instead of sparing him the physical symptoms, it will kill him faster.  The timetable from infection to death should be about four days, maybe a week if he’s lucky.  It’s a more virulent strain; he should feel the physical symptoms at the moment of infection.  Fever, chills, as well as loss of ability.  It can be transmitted directly or through blood to blood contact.  But it won’t infect anyone else.  Even if I were to give you a shot of the virus it would be as if I gave you a shot of saline.  It would have no effect on you at all.  Bennet and I’ve been working on this lay for a month now.”

He was silent, tilting his head to look at me, brows furrowed in thought.  I was fully expecting a jail cell with no window or key at best and a bullet and shallow grave at worst.

“How close are you to finishing it?” he asked finally.

I blinked and shook my head a bit.  For the second time that day Bob had me surprised and at a loss for words.  I shook my head again to clear my thoughts.

“Very.  It’s very likely I will be able to finish it by the time Sylar makes it to New York City.”

He nodded, “Good.  The Company will provide any support and back-up you need.”

 I nodded, looking at Matthew in desperate bewilderment.

What is going on here?

“Bennet can fill you in on everything,” Matthew said brusquely, “I’m getting Mohinder home so he can get some sleep.

“Good idea.  He’ll work faster when he can concentrate better and we need him at the top of his game,” Bob said, nodding at us.

Matthew grabbed my bag, tossing my stuff inside carelessly while I shut the computer, silence reigning as Bob and Bennet left before us.  I kept glancing at him the whole way home, wishing so very much that I could read his mind.  I wanted to know what was going on inside his head, what he was thinking, what he was feeling.  What if he just came back to make sure the plan worked and Sylar was killed?  What if he really didn’t love me anymore and had every intention of disappearing after we finished this?  What if I never saw him or Molly again?  Could I live without them?

“Mohinder!” Matthew yelled all of a sudden, “Will you please stop thinking for one second.”

I started, bowing my head down so I didn’t have to face him, humiliation and hurt coloring my face red and quickening my steps.  I shoved my hands in my pockets, walking a little faster up the stairs so I could reach the relative safety of the apartment sooner.

I heard Matthew sigh behind me, “Mohinder,” he called tiredly.

I saw his hand reaching for me out of the corner of my eye and sped up.  Even though I had been dreaming of the day I would have him back, I wasn’t ready for  him to touch me yet.

“I’m assuming Molly’s not home,” I said gruffly, pulling the key from my pocket and unlocking the front door.  I opened the door and let him go in first, old habits, before following him inside.  I shut the door and made sure to fasten the row of chains, deadbolts, and locks before setting my bag on a kitchen chair and tossing my keys on the table.

“The milk in the fridge went bad last week,” Matthew commented.

“I haven’t been home much,” I replied, shrugging.

“I know.  I’ve been watching you.”

I jerked my head to look at him, surprised and a little bit confused.  He was watching me now, staring at me with those dark, intense eyes that always make me feel like he isn’t just looking at me, he’s looking right through me, into my soul.  He was frowning but all the anger seemed to have drained out of him.  He looked pale and worn, worry creasing the corners of his mouth and lack of sleep giving him dark circles under his eyes.  Briefly I held in a bark of laughter at the fact that we must both look like a pair of sanatorium escapees with our haven’t-slept-in-days looks.

“You haven’t’ been sleeping,” I stated dumbly.

“I’ve been worried about you.  You haven’t been sleeping either.”

I shrugged again, putting a damper on the butterflies that gathered in my stomach because he has to care about me to worry about me, “I’ve been working.”

Out of no where I realized how silly this was.  Here we were, two people who spent two years as partners, co-parents, lovers, two people who meant the world to each other and we were reduced to short, clipped sentences.  Instead of making up for lost time, getting to know each other again after so long, were facing each other across the room, each one afraid to  make the first move.

“Matthew,” I whispered, taking a step towards him.

Then his arms were around me and his voice was in my ear, whispering endearments into my hair.  My arms went around his neck, holding on tight and pressing my face into the curve of his shoulder.  I breathed in his cherished scent, taking the gulping breaths of a man who just spent fourteen days drowning.  He kissed my ear, my neck my jaw, my eyelids, soft, fluttering kisses that had me nearly in tears.

“I missed you so much,” I whispered.

“God, I missed you too Mohinder,” he whispered back.

I angled my face up, catching his lips against mine and grabbed his shirt to pull him closer.  I moaned lightly into his mouth when he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue along my bottom lip in  a silent plea for entry that I was helpless to deny.  The kiss became desperate; a clash of tongues, teeth, and lips as we grabbed at each other, trying to get closer.  Two weeks of longing and uncertainty and loneliness going into a single meeting of our lips and bodies.  He drew back first, breaking the kiss to press his forehead against mine.  We were both breathing heavy and I could feel each hard breath against my chest, could feel the beautiful, loved heart of his beating frantically against my palm.

“Please don’t leave me again,” I entreated him, closing my eyes against the tears that gathered behind my eyelids again.

He kissed me again, softer this time, just a gentle press of his lips against mine but it was all the assurance I needed.  I sighed and leaned against him, laying my head against his shoulder.  I never wanted to leave the safety and love of Matthew’s embrace ever again.  For the first time in forever I felt at peace.

“Is Molly alright?” I finally asked, breaking the silence that surrounded us.

“Yeah, she’s with Peter’ family,” he said.

“I figured.”

“Come on,” Matthew said, separating all contact from me except for a clasp of my hand, “Lets get you to bed.”

I nodded and followed him, stripping down to just my boxers and sliding under the covers in anticipation of being with Matthew.  It had been so long and I missed him so much.  He surprised me by sliding in behind me.  He draped an arm across my hip, pressing close against my back and kissing my shoulder softly. 

“I meant to sleep Mohinder.  As much as I missed you, it’s one o’clock n the morning and you need to get your rest.  I never thought I’d ever hear myself say this but Bob was right, you need to sleep.  It’s been too long since you had a good night’s sleep and you are going to need it tomorrow.  Sylar is coming and he’s coming fast.  We don’t have that much time and you need to finish the virus,” he said.

I sighed, knowing he was right but wanting him still.

“When this is over, you are going to take a vacation Mohinder.  I don’t care where you go, just make sure it’s warm and a far away from here as possible.”

I smiled, snuggling back into Matthew’s chest and tangling my legs around his, “That sounds perfect.”

We were silent for a couple minutes and I thought he was asleep but I needed to ask him anyways.  It had been bothering me since I saw him standing behind me and Bennet at the lab.

“Why did you change your mind Matthew?” I whispered my question in the dark.

I didn’t think he was going to answer until finally his voice cut through the shadows next to my ear, “I didn’t.  I still think this is a mistake and I still want us to just pack up and get the hell out of Dodge.  We can do it tonight.  Pack a few bags and be wherever in the world we want by dawn; you, me, and Molly.  You don’t have to do this Mohinder.”

“If you still felt that way, why did you come back?” I asked him, afraid of his answer but needing to know anyways.

“I just didn’t want to see you kill yourself Mohinder.  I came back to protect you.”

“Is that all?”

He turned me around so I was against his chest and pressed a soft kiss to my lips, “I came back because I love you and need you to be safe Mohinder.”

“I will be Matthew.  You just have to believe me.”

“I know you will be alright because I’m going to make sure of it.”

I smiled and shook my head, “You are hopeless Matthew.”

“Yeah, so I’ve been told.  Now be quiet and get some sleep.  We have a lot of work to do in the morning.

I nodded and pressed closer, leaning my head against his chest.  I could feel his heart against my cheek as I fell asleep to the soft lullaby of his heartbeat.



My Day

So today was about as eventful as washing my hair.  Got up, yelled at my sister until she woke up, had to drive her to school anyways and was late to work, mopped a few floors, went home...you get the picture.  I wish I was still working at the hospital, it tended to be a bit more enjoyable.
Although, the funniest you-had-to-be-there thing happened today.  It was slow so it was just me, Brit, and Judy.  Now, Judy is a tiny little 50ish woman.  Sweetest little thing in the world.  We were down in the Icon area (it's okay if you have no idea what I'm talking about) and were trying to occupy time.  Judy sat in one of the chairs in the lobby and Brit and I went to go check out the lounge room.  And by check out the lounger room I mean we threw pillows at each other and played ultimate ping pong.  We were wondering where Judy was so we went to find and her.  She had fallen asleep in the chair; adorable right?  Brit decide that it would be hilarious if she pretended to be Matt (one of the bosses) and she started walking toward Judy, mumbling "What are you girls doing?"  Classic Matt line and she sounded just like him (not that difficult when he speak a million miles a minute and mumbles everything).  Judy jumps up looking all confused.  Her face was just great.  Well, we sit back down, still laughing about Judy sleeping in the chair when we hear voices  coming down the hall.  Brit jumps up and starts to use her rag to wipe the table next to her, I jump up and pretend to be organizing magazines, and Judy jumps up and actually start running around in circles, like she had no idea what was going on or what she could do.  A few of the guests walked by and they were giving her the funnies WTF looks.  It was great but it's one of those things that really aren't funny unless you have a remote idea what I'm talking about.

I was feeling especially domestic today.  I made this totally awesome Oreo and chocolate creme pie and finally tried out my new calzone recipe.  They were both awesome.  Then I stared at the next part to my series, begging my muse to come back.  Now, I'm trying to sleep.  And succeeding so well as you can see.


Fic: The Alley of Love

Title: The Alley of Love
Pairing: Matt/Mohinder
Rating: NC-17
Warning: I use some slurs here.  They’re not mine and I don’t approve at all
Summary: Mohinder makes it up to Matt
Disclaimer: I own nothing
AN: This has been sitting on my computer for a while now until me_likee inspired me to finish it.  It was supposed to be a deeper thing but turned into a PWP.



“This is all your fault Matthew Parkman,” Mohinder panted around heaving breaths.

“My fault?!  Well excuse me, next time a bunch of skinheads wants to kick your ass I’ll be sure to back off and let them have their way with you,” Matt wheezed beside him.

Mohinder threw his lover one last glare before concentrating on running and breathing.  They had been running at breakneck speed for the past ten minutes and he was beginning to feel the effects.  His calf muscles were burning and his lungs were screaming for a reprieve.  Beside him Matt was already lagging.  He had been able to keep pace with Mohinder but his larger size was beginning to take its toll.  It wasn’t that Matt was too flubby to keep up with the smaller man; rather it was the fact that he had recently sustained a vicious punch to the abdomen. 

This was not good.

Matt could feel himself starting to slow down.  Where the punk’s fist had connected with his stomach was aching and making it difficult to breath.  It was just supposed to be a simple assignment.  Mohinder had to go talk to a young man The Company thought might be a fire starter and he had asked Matt to tag along with him.  Normally, Matt would have refused him out right.  He couldn’t control Mohinder’s actions or make his decisions but he sure as hell wasn’t going to get involved in Company business.  However, Mohinder would be venturing into a bad neighborhood and Matt decided to go along just to protect him.  He had been called down there for reports of shots fired too often to let Mohinder go alone.

On the plus side the guy was a fire starter.  However, that was counteracted by the fact that he wasn’t the cute little Drew Barrymore fire starter Matt had been wishing for.  No, they got tattooed, brass knuckled, racist, homophobic, Aryan Nation Johnny Marcot instead.

“You don’t need your gun Matthew, we’re in no danger Matthew, stop worrying so much Matthew,” Matt mocked in his best “Mohinder” voice, although the accent was off and the words were punctuated with gasping breaths.

“It would have been fine if you hadn’t hit him,” Mohinder snapped at him.

“He was thinking a putting a bullet right through your pretty face the second he saw you,” Matt snapped back.

Behind them, the pounding footfalls of their pursuers were growing ever louder.  They couldn’t keep running, Matt was ready to collapse and even Mohinder was finding it more and more difficult to breathe.  Suddenly Matt thought of an idea and shouldered Mohinder into the next alley.  He pushed him into a doorway and covered Mohinder’s body with his own, effectively trapping him between the rotting wooden door and Matt’s heaving chest.

“What the…” Mohinder started to say but Matt’s good hand over his mouth served to effectively silence him.

“For once in your life Doctor Mohinder fucking Suresh, shut the hell up,” Matt hissed in his ear.

He pressed closer when he heard the footsteps stop nearby.  Their voices mingled with the voices inside his head.

“Where the hell did they go?”

Damn Muslim raghead

Fat fucking pig coming into my territory

Sticking their big noses in our business

How the fuck did they know about it?

“How in the hell did you lose them?  He’s a skinny assed bastard that probably hasn’t been out of the fucking library since he was fucking six.  The damn obese cop looks like he wouldn’t know exercise if it slapped his fat ass.  They couldn’t have gotten far.”

I’m not an idiot asshole

Stupid fuckers, need to find people smart enough to run

Matt breathed a sigh of relief as when he heard them start running again, slumping his head against Mohinder’s shoulder as the tension drained out of him.

“That was way too close for comfort,” he muttered into the cotton of Mohinder’s shirt.

If Matt was smarter he would have thrown Mohinder over his shoulder and gotten the hell out of there the minute he saw the seedy dive Mohinder was trying to lead him to. But no, he decided to trust Mohinder and followed him inside.  He felt like he was walking into the wedding reception of Hitler and Strom Thurmond, the sound of the door slamming shut behind them sounded like the tightening of the hangman’s noose around his neck. 

He should have turned and walked away.

But before he had the chance to even take a breath, Mohinder was stepping forward and started asking people if they knew where he could find Jocheved Marcot (what kind of name is Jocheved anyways?  No wonder the kid was so angry).  He didn’t seem to perceive the malicious, hateful glares thrown his way.  If looks could kill, Mohinder would have been dead by stabbing, shooting, hanging, and a handful of other painful methods before he even stepped out of the doorway.

But of course, Mohinder continued on in his what-would-normally-be-adorable oblivious state, heedless of the fact that guys were already reaching for their hidden weapons.  So Matt did the only thing he could think of; he grabbed the closest guy he could reach and slammed him into the bar, shouting to the rest that if any of them made a move he would arrest them all.  All in all, not the brightest move he could make but in his defense he was acting on pure adrenaline-fueled instinct.  It’s kind of hard to remember that you can control minds when a dozen skinheads are looking at your partner like he’s their next sacrifice to the gods of hate and prejudice.

Of course the guy he grabbed would be pyromaniac Jocheved and of course he would have to set the bar on fire when Matt slammed him into it.  Matt was going to have to think of a good story to tell his lieutenant tomorrow as to why his left hand is burned and it was going to be difficult for him to hold a gun.  Speaking of burned hands, Mohinder just grabbed his hand and was currently inspecting it.

“It doesn’t look that bad thankfully, although you’re going to have to put some salve on it when we get home.  And it looks like you get out of dish duty for a couple days,” he said softly, still whispering despite the fact that the danger was now gone.

“That’s a comfort,” Matt said dryly, hissing lightly as Mohinder gently pressed his thumb against his raw palm.

“It’s your own fault you oaf,” Mohinder snapped.

Even though his tone was harsh and his words were meant to sting, Matt could see the concern in his eyes, soothing the ache of the burn and the pain of what he said.  Mohinder held Matt’s hand in his for a moment later, turning it over in the dim light of the mostly darkened alley.

“What was I supposed to do Mohinder?  Those guys wanted to kill you.  I was just reacting to their threats,” Matt explained.

“Always the male are you not Matthew?” Mohinder said huskily, seductively almost, “Protecting your mate from the threat of other males. It’s the most primal, most natural of instincts.  All males are hardwired to protect their mate from imminent threats.  Normally, I would be a bit insulted about being lumped together with the relatively helpless females of old, but for some reason when you go all alpha male, it’s….it’s sexy as hell.”

Mohinder nuzzled his face in Matt’s neck, darting his tongue out to trace the artery as it pulsed against the soft skin.  Matt’s blood pressure skyrocketed and his breathing became more and more rapid until the point he was almost hyperventilating into Mohinder’s hair and he dug his fingers into Mohinder’s biceps, ignoring the stab of pain from the burn on his le ft hand.

“What are you doing?” he gasped thickly.

“Making it up to you,” Mohinder murmured, nuzzling Matt’s jaw with his nose, “You are right of course.  That was my fault and I am determined to make it up to you.”

“By driving me crazy,” Matt said, pushing Mohinder back.

“No, by giving you one of the best orgasms of your life,” Mohinder responded with a knowing smirk.

“There is no way in hell I am having sex in this filthy alley.  We’ll probably catch syphilis or chlamydia or something.  I’m surprised we haven’t contracted herpes just by standing here,” Matt said with a comical shudder to emphasize his point.

“I do believe it might be possible for me to convince you otherwise,” Mohinder purred, sliding closer to press his body flush against Matt’s.

Matt gulped in a hard breath, nearly choking on it as Mohinder slid a hand under his shirt to trace the waistband of his jeans.

“What did I tell you Matthew?  I can be very persuasive if I set my mind to it,” Mohinder laughed huskily in Matt’s ear. 

He drew Matt’s earlobe in his mouth, sucking lightly and causing Matt to moan and throw his head back.  Mohinder kissed his way down his neck, nipping at the frantic butterfly pulse and drawing another throaty groan from Matt.  He licked and nibbled at the Matt’s stubble roughened jaw, reveling in the scrap of it against his own stubble and tongue.

“Hush Matthew.  You need to be quiet or people will hear us,” Mohinder whispered conspiratorially, unbuttoning Matt’s jeans and sliding the zipper down at the same time.

“Mohinder,” Matt growled, grabbing Mohinder’s face between his hands and drew him into a slow, deep kiss.

Matt moaned into Mohinder’s mouth when he slipped a hand in his jeans to curl around his achingly hard cock.  Mohinder took advantage of it to slip into in Matt’s mouth, sliding his tongue along the ridge of Matt’s teeth before tangling around his tongue.

“God Mohinder, what are you doing to me?” Matt groaned, breaking the kiss to lean his head against Mohinder’s shoulder.

“Making you feel good.  Now just hush and enjoy yourself my darling,” Mohinder soothed, smoothing his hands over Matt’s back.

He kissed Matt again, pushing his hands into the waistband of his boxers and pushing them down.  He gave Matt a wicked grin before sliding down to his knees, worshipping Matt with his eyes, his hands, and his mouth. 

God his mouth.  He swirled his tongue around the leaking head of Matt’s cock, tasting the pearls of precum that gathered at the tip.  Matt groaned, burying his hands in Mohinder’s hair and hanging on for dear life.  Mohinder gripped the backs of Matt’s knees, rubbing the sensitive skin softly.  He swallowed slowly, taking Matt deeper into his mouth.  He licked the thick vein on the bottom of Matt’s erection, following it with the flat of his tongue.  Mohinder pulled back to blow warm air on Matt, cooling the saliva trail with his breath.

“Fuck Mohinder,” Matt grunted, thrusting his hips forward.

“Patience love,” Mohinder murmured with a small laugh.

He slid back down Matt’s length, slipping a hand between his legs to cup the soft sac, kneading gently.  Matt moaned, biting his bottom lip to smother it before it echoed in the alley, alerting the whole city to what they were doing.  Mohinder hummed around his mouthful, gently dragging his teeth down the length of Matt’s cock.

“So close…I’m so fucking close…damn Mohinder I’m there…I’m right there,” Matt ground out.  He let his inhibitions fly, moaning loudly as he came, twitching and spilling himself into Mohinder’s mouth.  His moan echoed in the alley, filling the air with the sound of his release.  Mohinder swallowed, sucking until Matt sagged against the wall, his knees buckling under the force of his pleasure. 

Mohinder carefully righted Matt’s clothes, pulling his boxers and jeans up and buttoning them.  He stood up and wrapped his arms around Matt’s neck, kissing him with care and gently sliding his tongue across Matt’s bottom lip.  Matt opened his mouth to invite Mohinder in, moaning lightly at the taste of himself on Mohinder’s tongue, wrapping his arms around Mohinder’s waist.

“Forgive me?” he asked against Matt’s lips.

“I’m giving it serious consideration,” Matt laughed.

“I suppose I’ll just have to convince you more when we get home.”

“I should warn you, I’m not easily persuaded,” Matt grinned.

“Good thing I like a challenge.”

Spring Break!

So it's finally Spring Break and I'm doing a little happy dance because not only do I not have classes for a week, I only work like three days which means I have most of the time to sleep, or laze around, or relax with the good books I've been trying to read.  So instead of relaxing in the sun and enjoying the SPRING weather, I end up scraping ice off my car cause' guess what....IT'S A FREAKING BLIZZARD.  What the heck is with this weather?!  I need to find me somewhere warm to go.  All in all, a pretty auspicious start to my spring break.



Fic: The Road of Destiny (6/?)

Title: The Road of Destiny (6/?)
Author: crystal_mk
Pairing: Matt/Mohinder
Rating: PG-13 for this part but NC-17 as a whole
Summary: Destiny writes the road but do we get to decide whether or not we follow?
Warnings: Angst!
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
It was two weeks after I asked for Peter’s help in implementing Bennet’s plan only to have him refuse to help, or get in involved in any way but to kill the man who assassinated his older brother (or would have assassinated Nathan Petrelli if we had not acted as quickly as we did in getting him to a hospital far removed from The Company’s reaches) and Bob had interrogated me about my actions surrounding the Shanti virus and I still hadn’t made any progress in developing the virus. Actually, that was a lie. I had made some progress in that I was able to isolate the specific marker on the virus that affected the infected individual’s nervous system, shutting it down and killing the poor soul who had contracted the virus. This was good for my cover story with Bob, but not so much for my genuine reason: creating a virus designed to specifically attack Sylar’s genetic code and kill him quickly without infecting anybody else.  I was still trying to figure out a way to use that knowledge to help me with manipulating the virus to that end.
It’s almost enough to make me miss the golden days of traveling the country with a disguised serial killer. It seemed to me things were so much simpler in those days. He lied, I believed, I found out his lies, he tortured and tried to kill me. Everything was so straightforward and easy to understand. Not so much the motivations, but rather the sequence of things.
At work, despite Bennet’s assurances that he would take care of it, I had Bob breathing down my neck for regular updates on my progress and Elle had decided to make a habit of dropping in to visit anytime she very well pleased. I couldn’t turn her away without drawing suspicion to myself so I had to tolerate her less than subtle advances and insinuations that she would make a nice third member of the “exclusive Parkman-Suresh boys club”; meaning that she wanted to have a threesome with Matthew and me. It took me a bit to discern exactly what she was suggesting, and only then with Matthew’s help, and now I had taken to hiding under my desk anytime she walked past. She was more than a little bit frightening without making sexual advances toward my partner and me.
Besides, I don’t share well with others. Especially Matthew.
Things had been tense at home for a while as well. Matthew and I were snapping at each other for any and all reasons, our argument over my teaming up with Bennet again turning into an epic battle over whether or not the garbage should be taken out after dinner or taken out right before it was time to shower and hours after dinner. Poor Molly suffered the aftershocks of this tension. Although we had come to an unspoken agreement to never involve Molly in our arguments, not that it was ever a possibility, she was an intelligent and perceptive girl; she could sense that all was not well and right in the world of our home. We tried our best to shield her but I could tell that she was picking up on it. Her nightmares were returning, she always tried to step between Matthew and I our voices began to get louder, her hugs were a little tighter, lasted a little longer. In deference to her fragility and health, I made a point to avoid discussing work at home and Matthew made an effort to accept my decision. Neither of us wanted to hurt Molly and we were willing to make concessions to protect our daughter, even from ourselves. Home life was working better now, Matthew and I returning to our normal, happy, relationship status, although the underlying stress was still there beneath the surface. Just better disguised.
I was currently sitting in front of my computer screen, cursing it to the deepest depths of a fiery hell where obsolete and difficult technology was sent by furious and frustrated owners, while debating the pros and cons of smashing it in to tiny little pieces with the too small stool that had been my home for the past two weeks. It would certainly make me feel better to obliterate it in a most gratifying way. The only problem with that plan being that my bank book would probably die an incredibly horrible death in a spasm of overdraft fees trying to pay for a replacement.
So I suppose this means that destroying the computer is on my list of bad ideas
I sighed and pushed the chair away from the counter, dragging a hand across my face. My eyes felt tired and grainy from staring at the computer screen for so long and my lower back was sending shooting signals of pain up my spine from hunching over the computer and microscope for such a long time. I was simply exhausted and just noticed that my stomach was rumbling in hunger. I forgot lunch.  Again.
Wonder how long it’s been making that noise
“Doctor Suresh?” a voice startled me from the door.
I jumped up, sore muscles and joints screaming in protest at the effort, and whirled around to see my assistant, Sara or Samantha…or maybe Annie Something-or-other, standing in the doorway, skittish expression on her face telling me she was reading to bolt if I moved too fast or made a threatening gesture; such as blinking too fast.
I was still trying to figure out how I got the reputation of such a “hard ass” ,as Matthew would say (although Matthew would most likely use that phrase in a different, far more pleasing to my image, context), at work. She was my…fourth assistant this month?
“What is it?”
“Umm…Matt Parkman called. He said to tell you to be ready. He’ll be here in ten minutes to pick you up,” she said quickly.
I nodded my acknowledgement brusquely and she couldn’t have ducked out faster if I had a gun in hand and was using her as target practice. Maybe it was the lack of sleep and the stress, but her unreasonable, and unfounded, fear of me grated on my already raw nerves and I found myself making a note to request that Bob not assign me any more assistants. I was perfectly capable of getting my own tea and running away from myself if the occasion called for it.
I yawned, pushing my hands above my head and stretching languidly. I bent backwards, feeling and hearing my back crack in a series of satisfying pops that relieved the stiff ache that had settled in my spine after sitting for hours. 
I suppose Matthew’s phone call means that he was serious the other night. I was late for dinner for the second time that week and he threatened that if I was late again he was coming down to the lab and dragging me home by my hair. 
Which shouldn’t have sounded as appealing as it did.
I quickly cleaned up, putting beakers and supplies in their proper cupboards and making sure to lock them up securely. I cleaned the work area with a strong bleach solution three times before gathering a few files that I wanted to take home to review and putting them in my messenger bag. There was a vault in the back of the lab, built specifically to house the samples of the virus I was working with. What used to be Isaac Mendez’s bedroom was now a room of reinforced steel and titanium and anything else The Company could think of, as well as the most sophisticated alarm system in the world that secured it from anywhere between the common household robber, looking for something shiny to pawn, to a nuclear blast. Of course whether or not it was secure from Peter had yet to be proven, although The Company wasn’t too keen on testing it.
I was securing the samples in the cold vault when I heard raised voices coming from the other room. I quickly locked everything up and hurried out, thinking it was Matthew, having arrived with me nowhere to be found, calling for me.
“I know what you’re planning Bennet!” Matthew was shouting, “I saw it and I’m not going to let it happen!”
“You can’t do anything about it Parkman. It’s Mohinder’s choice.”
“The hell it is! How can he make a choice if you don’t give him all the facts?”
They were facing each other on the floor, right over Isaac’s portrayal of an apocalyptic New York City that thankfully never happened. I never got it removed because I felt it reminded me of what could happen when you allow the situation to get out of hand and make the stupid mistake of trusting a serial killer. 
Matthew was looming over Bennet, using his superior height and size to his advantage and trying to intimidate him. He looked menacing and frightening and I was more than a little gratified to see that Bennet looked afraid, even if it was a little bit. But still…
“What’s going on here?” I asked sharply.
They both jumped a bit, surprise at finding me behind them evident on their slightly guilty looking expressions.
“Mohinder,” Bennet said smoothly, recovering first, “We were just discussing you.”
“Really?” I said sarcastically, “I hadn’t noticed. Care to enlighten me as to what exactly you were discussing that involved my participation?”
“We were discussing that fact that this is over. It was a mistake to think we could work with Bennet and we’re getting out now before anybody gets hurt,” Matthew said forcefully, not even looking at me but boring a hole in Bennet’s skull with his eyes.
He walked over to the stool that I had set my bag on and grabbed it before walking over to me quickly.
“W-what are you talking about Matthew?” I asked, at a loss as to what was going on.
He grabbed my arm and started pulling me towards the door, “We’ll talk about this when we get home,” he said with a note of finality in his tone.
I dug my heels into the floor and yanked my arm free of his grasp, “What is wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me?” Matthew spit out, rounding on me with the same threatening expression he’d just used for Bennet, “What’s wrong with me? The better question is; what’s wrong with you? What is wrong with you Mohinder? Have you gotten so far embedded in this plan, so much involved in Bennet’s manipulations and lies, that you forgot our deal? We agreed from the very beginning that if one of us wanted out, it would be over. I want out Mohinder. I want out and I want you out.”
I pressed the heels of my hand against my eyes in frustration, pushing until I saw flashing lights behind my eyes, “Why? Why…when did this happen?”
“It doesn’t matter Mohinder; I want out,” he snapped with barely restrained anger.
I’ve never been afraid of Matthew. Not for one moment in our entire life together, but at his tone, dark and full of hateful anger, I took a step back.
“I want out Mohinder,” he said, voice and eyes softening as he stepped forward to take my hands in a gentle grasp, “Please Mohinder, just trust me on this. Please come home with me.”
I glanced helplessly at Bennet who had remained silent for the duration of the argument, trying to figure out how thing had gotten so out of control. His face remained impassive, his eyes hidden behind the trademark horn-rimmed glasses.
I was near frantic. “B-but I finally made some progress Matthew. Not that much, but some. I really think that it just might be possible, that I might be able to do it. It is possible and I can do it. We can do it. We can destroy Sylar for good and this time there won’t be any coming back. He can’t hurt us anymore, can’t hurt Molly anymore.” I felt him trying to take his hands away and I grabbed them tighter, “Please Matthew, don’t do this. We are so close to finally being free. Don’t you understand? We are so close Matthew.”
His eyes narrowed dangerously and he viciously wrenched his hands out of mine. He roughly thrust my bag at me, forcing me to take a step back to maintain my balance. He threw Bennet one last malevolent glare before turning around and stomping away.
“Matthew,” I called after him pleadingly.
He whipped around, face twisted with so much rage I took another step back, “You know I could force you to stop. It would be so easy for me to tell you to stop, to leave all this alone and come home with me. I could and it would be so incredibly easy Mohinder. You want to know why I won’t? Because you asked me not to and I made you a promise; just like you made me a promise. I promised you that I wouldn’t use my ability against you unless you told me it was okay. I keep my promises Mohinder. You should really try it, maybe you’d actually be able to keep the people who really care about you.”
I could only watch helplessly as he stormed out, slamming the door so hard the hinges rattled after him. I was confused and hurt and had no idea where this maelstrom of anger came from. I knew that Matthew wasn’t happy with my decision but this was too much. It just came out of nowhere. I turned to where Bennet still stood. I saw the flash of smug accomplishment on his face before he slipped his bored mask back on.
“What did you do?” I asked him, narrowing my eyes at him.
“Nothing,” Bennet lied.
And what a good liar he was. Convincing liar. Good thing I learned more than how to shoot a gun from the last time we worked together or I might actually believe him.
“What did you do?” I reiterated, this time with more force.
He gave a long-suffering sigh, “Parkman might have picked up on a few of my thoughts that I would rather he not have.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked suspiciously.
“I got a lead on Sylar. The problem with the plan is that it’s going to be much more difficult than I anticipated to lure him back to New York City. Parkman probably heard me thinking about that.”
“And why would that upset him so much?”
“Because it mean we’re going to have to break one of his rules. We need you Mohinder. You’re the only good enough reason we have that would convince Sylar to come back. We need to use you as bait.”
I nodded slowly, everything clicking into place. Of course Matthew would be upset if he picked up on that thought. Last time we encountered Sylar, he put me in the hospital for two weeks. Matthew still felt guilty about that, as if he should have been able to do something to protect me. If Bennet was thinking about using me to lure Sylar here I’m just surprised he didn’t follow through with his threat and shoot him.
“That’s unacceptable,” I said, “I won’t be used as bait. Why do we have to bring him back here to begin with? Why can’t we just go to him?”
Bennet looked uncomfortable for half-a-second, as if he wasn’t sure how to respond, but his confidence soon returned, “Because he never stays in one place to long enough. It was hard enough to get this lead on him. When we do manage to pinpoint his location, we can’t afford to take the chance that we won’t be quick enough or we won’t be convincing enough. Mohinder, we need to do this if we want to have any hope of getting to Sylar. You know as well as I do that this is the only plan that has any hope of working.”
I turned away from him in silence. A part of me always knew this was coming, always knew that there was no way to avoid it. Sylar was smart enough to stay away from New York but for whatever reason he was determined to make me suffer. Give him the opportunity to hurt me and he would come running. I had been trying to deny it since the beginning because I didn’t want to face him again and I knew how much it would upset Matthew. However, Bennet was right and it couldn’t be avoided. 
I turned back to him resignedly, “Very well Bennet but you have to give us a warning in advance, well in advance, so we can get Molly to safety.”
“What about Parkman?”
“I have no doubt that Matthew will insist on being there and I’m not too inclined to deny him. He’ll be there to make sure everything goes as planned and nothing, nothing, goes wrong.”
He paused for a minute before nodding his assent.
If I didn’t know better I would suspect that Bennet was disappointed in that fact. If I didn’t know better I would say that he was hoping to cause a rift between Matthew and I so much so that he would not want anything to do with me. If I didn’t know better I would say that Bennet did not want Matthew there to watch over me.
But I know better.
I made a note to watch Bennet more closely and make sure he stays away from Matthew. He caused enough damage tonight and I didn’t want him to be able to cause any irreparable damage. 
“I need to get home,” I said abruptly.
He nodded, turned, and walked out the door. Just like that I was alone again. I needed to get home so I could bridge the chasm between Matthew and me and make it right but I couldn’t force my feet to move. I collapsed in a pathetic heap on the floor, struggling to breathe as I felt my chest constrict with what felt like a panic attack. I felt like my entire world was spiraling out of control and every time I tried to reach out, tried to hold onto something, my fingers slipped and I was falling, falling, falling; never stopping until I reached a bottom I couldn’t see but instinctively knew was hard and rough and filled with the sharp spikes of emptiness and loneliness. 
Matthew was angry with me. More than that, he doubted me. Doubted my sincerity, my trust, my loyalty, my devotion to him. Doubted my love for him. If I couldn’t convince him to stay, that there was nothing more important to me than him and Molly, I could lose him and her forever. 
I grabbed my bag and ran out, slamming the door shut and quickly punching in the alarm code to arm it. I threw my hand up in the air to hail a cab and spent the whole ride home silently entreating the driver to go just a little bit faster, run that yellow light so I could get home sooner. It had been over an hour since Matthew had left the lab and I was desperately hoping he was still home. The sun was going down as I unlocked the apartment door and the first thing I noticed was how dark it was. The rooms were cast in dusky shadows; not a single light to illuminate the darkened corners. 
Then I noticed the silence. It was quiet and Molly hadn’t come running out of the living room or her room to greet me. Matthew didn’t have the television blaring from the living room, tuned to some kind of cop show that he wasn’t even paying attention to because Molly was doing something too adorable not to watch. 
Then I noticed the blinking red light of the answering machine on the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room.
I slowly made my way over to the little box, dropping my bag to land with a dull thud on the floor along the way, and pressed the button. I ignored the message from Bob asking for an update and the message from Matthew’s sergeant telling him he needed that Marquez report done. Then I heard Matthew’s voice, drowning out all the noises from the street below.
I’m taking Molly somewhere safe. I love you Mohinder but I’m not going to let you bring me or Molly down with you. If you change your mind, you know how to find us.
Molly says she loves you and wants you to come home.
The beep that followed the message sound deafening in the resounding silence of the tiny apartment.
I backed up until my knees hit the kitchen chair behind me, sitting down heavily. How could this happen? Wasn’t it just yesterday I was taking Molly to get ice cream because she did so well on her math exam? Wasn’t it just yesterday I was trying to teach Matthew and Molly how to make banana pancakes? Wasn’t it just yesterday Matthew was waking me up a few minutes before the alarm was set to go off with soft kisses along my jaw, a far better way to wake up than the annoying beep of the alarm clock? How could it have been just yesterday that we have been a happy family and today I be sitting in our kitchen, alone but for a brief message on the answering machine and some files from work?
I forced myself to stand up and fill the kettle with water for tea, filling my cup partially with chai and soy milk. In the end I couldn’t drink it. Just the smell had my stomach rolling in protest. I decided to just take a shower and go to bed early. I showered quickly. I kept expecting Molly to come banging on the door because she had to use the bathroom and no she can’t wait or Matthew to come in, telling me that I was using all the hot water and if I was going to be in there so long I was going to be getting a most welcome guest.
I didn’t want to go to bed and instead ended up on the couch, reviewing files that I didn’t really see or even care about. I couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping. It didn’t feel right without telling Molly her bedtime story and kissing her goodnight or grinning up at Matthew as I kissed away the little blue spot of foamy spittle on his chin while we brushed our teeth together. Nothing felt right anymore. The apartment was empty and hollow, colder than I remembered
Before I knew what I was doing, I was punching in the code at the lab to let myself in. I had my supplies out, my beakers filled, the virus out, and the computer I had been trying not to destroy just a few short hours earlier on and in front of me before I realized that I was back at work. Without anyone waiting at home for me, without anyone to worry when I came home late without calling, I had no reason to leave the lab. I could stay as long as I needed without feeling guilty about causing my daughter undue worry and my partner more stress than he already has. Without distractions I had a better chance of succeeding faster and putting Bennet’s plan into motion sooner and finally getting rid of Sylar for good.
Is it worth it?
I slumped away from the computer screen, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. An image of Molly’s happy face, bright smile shining with joy, as Matthew bear hugged her after coming home from work, rumpled and tired but still grinning at me over her hair flashed through my mind and I knew the answer. I turned back to my work with renewed fervor, determined to finish this once and for all.
For them.

Fic: The Road of Destiny (5/?)

Title: The Road of Destiny (5/?)
Author: crystal_mk
Pairing: Matt/Mohinder
Rating: PG-13 for this, NC-17 on the whole
Summary: Destiny writes the road but do we get to choose whether or not we follow?
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Monday morning found me calling off work and standing in front of the Petrelli mansion, trying to work up the nerve to ask for Peter’s help. My hand wavered over the dark mahogany of the door to the mansion, frozen an inch from the surface of the wood. 
Just knock damn you Suresh
I took a deep breath and pulled my hand back to try knocking again. Again, my hand paused an inch from the door.
Suddenly a large hand pushed past me and rapped three times, hard, on the door. I looked back in surprise, relaxing slightly when I recognized Matthew’s nose at eyelevel.
“Matthew, what are you doing here?”
“Being a supportive husband now shut up and smile,” he said, nodding to the door and stepping forward to wrap an arm around my waist.
I forced a smile and leaned back in his arms, drawing courage from the unwavering strength I found there. The door opened to reveal Peter Petrelli’s tense expression, easing into a small smile when he realized who was at the door.
“Mohinder, Matt, come on it,” he said, opening the door wider to allow us through.
We followed him into the sitting room, taking a seat on the chintz sofa that faced the wingback chair that he sat in. I leaned in close to Matthew, taking a steadying breath.
“How’s your family?” Matthew asked before I could start.
He curled a hand around mine, squeezing lightly to reassure me. Peter kept us up-to-date on the comings and goings of the “specials” community. No names, no places, no particulars. If we wanted to know how Nathan or Claire or Micah was doing, we asked about his family.
“They’re good. Everyone’s safe and healthy. They’ve been asking about you guys and Molly too. They heard about the latest flu bug and got worried,” Peter responded smoothly.
“Tell them not to worry, we’re good,” Matthew said, smiling, “We’re watching Molly closely, making sure she doesn’t catch the bug.”
“Good,” Peter said nodding.
“You guys want a drink?” he offered, moving to stand up.
“No,” I said quickly, holding out a hand to stop him, “We just need to ask for your help with something.”
“Anything. You know that.”
I hesitated, wondering how much I should tell him. I made my decision with a resigned sigh; I couldn’t lie to Peter. He deserved to know everything.
“I can’t go into the particulars right now but you need to know that it involves…it involves Bennet.”
Peter surged to his feet, pleasant smile turning into a hateful grimace, “How dare you? How dare you say that name in my house?”
Matt jumped to his feet as well, putting himself between us, “Calm down Peter. You haven’t even heard him out.”
“Heard him out? He killed my brother!” Peter exclaimed, pushing away the shock of black bangs that fell across his eyes to reveal the anger turning them darker.
“I know that Peter,” I said and held out my hands in the universal ‘I surrender’ gesture, placating, “ I’m only here because I don’t have anyone else to turn to, anyone else I can trust.”
Peter sighed and sat back down, calming down enough so that Matthew felt comfortable enough to let me move out from behind him. If his protectiveness wasn’t so endearing, didn’t make me feel warm with his love, I would find it annoyingly stifling.
“It’s your decision Peter. I would very much like your help, but I understand if you can’t.”
“I’m sorry Mohinder,” he said tightly, “I just can’t. I can’t work with that man.”
I nodded and, taking Matthew’s hand, turned around to leave, “If you change your mind or even if you just want to know more, please call or stop by. Give the family our love.”
He nodded, “Tell Molly I said hi.”
“Well that could have gone slightly better,” I commented as Matthew and I stepped outside and started walking home.
“What did you really expect?” Matthew said sarcastically, taking my hand and ignoring the pointed looks some people sent our way.
“I don’t know,” I replied softly.
“Maybe it’s a sign, maybe Peter saying no was the universe’s way of telling you that you shouldn’t do it.”
“Matthew,” I said sharply, turning to look at him.
He just shrugged, “I said I would be there for you, I didn’t say I would stop trying to dissuade you from going through with this crazy plan.”
I smiled and shook my head, leaning my cheek against his shoulder, “I’m going to forgive you, but only because used ‘dissuade’ properly.”
“Oh crap,” he said with mock horror, “I’ve been spending way to much time with you. Looks like I need to spend the rest of today at the bar where I can mingle with fellow non-geniuses.”
He wiggled his arm, as if trying to shake his hand free of mine. I tightened my grip on him.
“I don’t think so Matthew. Molly’s at school, we’re both off work, and I’m still waiting for that promised quality time.”
“You can be very persuasive can’t you doc?”
“You have no idea,” I said huskily, pushing him into an alley and up against the wall.
“Why Doctor Suresh, are you actually manhandling me?” Matthew asked, delighted and mischievous grin radiating up to brighten his eyes.
“Why Matthew,” I smirked, grinding my hips against his erection, “I didn’t realize you were into this kind or…what’s the word…oh yes, kink?”
The grin left his face and his eyes darkened with desire. He clenched his hands in my shirt, yanking me closer so that we were nose to nose.
 “Kink’s not the only thing I’m ‘in’ to, or will be for that matter,” he growled.
I pressed my palms flat against his chest and kissed him, drowning his pleased groan in my lips. He slid one hand around to grip the nape of my neck, pulling me closer, and ran his tongue along my bottom lip to deepen the kiss. 
Suddenly my phone vibrated against our hips, pressed close together.
“Damn,” he snarled, “This is starting to tick me off.”
I pushed off him, throwing him an apologetic look, and answered my phone. I didn’t even have the opportunity to say ‘hello’ before Bob’s voice rang out through the receiver.
“Mohinder. It’s Bob. I need you at the office, right now.”
The phone clicked when he hung up before I could even begin to formulate a response.
“No, no Mohinder. It’s your day off,” Matthew warned.
“I know, I’m sorry,” I said pleadingly.
“One of these day I’m gonna leave you for someone who doesn’t work for The Company and who has time to spend with me. I hear Peter’s single.”
“That’s assuming I would let you leave. And if you tried, I would find a way to kill Peter, invulnerable or not,” I said, stepping back into his arms.
“Don’t try to wiggle out of this, it isn’t going to work sweetheart,” he said his best ‘tough guy’ voice (which wasn’t very convincing considering he said it with a grin and groped my backside).
“I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” I said sweetly, rubbing my cheek against his stubble-roughened jaw.
He sighed and rolled his eyes, “Go.”
I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, “I love you, you know that right?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled shoving me off him, “You’d better get going.”
“I’ll be home as soon as I see what he wants,” I promised, giving him another quick peck on the lips before walking quickly out of the alley.
“Don’t forget, you owe me some manhandling when you get home,” he called after me, oblivious to the shocked looks sent his way by passersby.
I hurried over to the office, mulling over why Bob would call me in and be so…well, rude about it. For a man who heads a covert shadow company, he’s always so very polite, often aggravatingly so. The fact that he was so short with me did not bode well for this encounter. I rapped lightly on his door, trying to control my nervous breathing and hoping my heart knocking frantically around in my chest wouldn’t leave a bruise.
Matthew was right; I’m not cut out for the superspy business
“Come in.”
I opened the door to see Bob sitting at his desk, Elle standing behind him. She wore her trademark devil-may-care smirk and balanced a ball of pure electricity in her left hand.
“Hey there Fight Club,” she greeted me. 
The nickname she gave me upon our first encounter stuck, even after two years. It still annoyed me. I nodded a polite greeting, averting my eyes from the obvious threat she held in her hand. For a diagnosed sociopath, she was quite attached to her father.
“What’s the emergency?” I asked, sitting down in the chair Bob nodded to.
“What’s this?” he asked calmly, holding up a sheet of paper.
I couldn’t see it but I already knew what it was. I was expecting this confrontation.
“That would most likely be a report about my work with the Shanti virus,” I answered just as calmly.
“Would you care to explain? I thought you were done with the cure.”
“I am. I’m trying to see if there is a way to slow the virus down, to delay or even stop the onset of physical symptoms altogether while still inhibiting the expression of the mutation. If I can figure out a way to manipulate the virus so that it inhibits abilities while leaving the individual physically intact and healthy, it could be used as a cure for the very mutation that allows them to do such extraordinary things. It will also be a better alternative to the Haitian’s blood because it will never run out, it will only require one dose, and it won’t impact the person as negatively.”
I spent forever preparing that speech. I believe it went over quite nicely. Judging by Bob’s expression, he was pleased with how it went as well.
“Very good Mohinder. Keep me updated please,” he said, grinning now.
I nodded, “Of course.”
“That was all,” he said, returning to the paperwork in front of him and effectively dismissing me.
I nodded one last time to Elle, hiding the shudder that her predatory grin sent down my spine, and left, shutting the door and leaning up against it while I recollected my wits. I was going to have to be more cautious; I couldn’t afford to have Bob, or Elle, breathing down my neck. 
Thank god I was an inveterate planner, always making sure to have a Plan B, sometimes a Plan C through H.
But I would worry about that later. I still had a couple hours before Molly was to be picked up and I had a promise to keep.   I walked quickly down the hall, hoping to get out the door before someone else saw me or Elle decided she was bored with watching daddy work and wanted to “hang out” with me…and I was eager to get home to Matthew. It had been far too long since we had time to ourselves.
“Mohinder!” I heard Bennet’s voice calling after me.
Damn   Damn   Damn
I turned around with an exasperated expression, “What do you want?”
“Have you made any progress?” He asked, coming to stand in front of me.
“It’s been three days Noah; I haven’t had time to do anything but have Peter refuse to help.”
“That’s a problem,” Bennet said, “You need to convince him to help.”
“Oh really, I thought we had another empathy capable of defeating Sylar running around,” I said sarcastically. I thought for a moment before continuing, “If I’m working with the virus and I’m enlisting Peter’s aid, what exactly are you doing?”
“Don’t worry Mohinder; I’m doing my own part. I’ll make sure Bob stays off you back from now on.  I’m tracking Sylar, and I’ll lure him here.”
“How do you plan on doing that?”
“I haven’t figured that out yet. Way I figure, I have time. Right now I’m concentrating on just finding him.”
I nodded, “Very well. If you’ll excuse me, I need to be getting home.”
He nodded and watched me leave, calling after me, “See you tomorrow Mohinder.”

Fic: The Road of Destiny (4/?)

Title: The Road of Destiny (4/?)
Author: crystal_mk
Pairing: Matt/Mohinder
Rating: PG-13 for this part but NC-17 on the whole
Summary: Destiny writes the road, but do we get to choose whether or not we follow?
Disclaimer: I is poor and own nothing
AN: This is going waaaay slower than expected. Sorry guys.
“You’re not thinking rationally!” Matthew yelled at me.
“Yes I am Matthew,” I said wearily, rubbing my temple in an effort to ward off the headache I felt coming.
Molly was safely at school and we were having the same argument we had been having for two days. I decided that I was going to agree to go along with Bennet’s plan. I would try to create the virus he wanted, hopefully giving our side the ammunition needed to finally defeat Sylar. To put it politely, Matthew was not happy with my decision.
“Last time you got involved in his plots, he got you stuck in The Company. We can’t even think about leaving without being worried that they’ll be there to meet us at the airport. At least before we had some sense of security in knowing that they can’t track us everywhere now that we have Molly. Now they know our every move. This is a mistake Mohinder. Not only is it a mistake, it’s a stupid mistake. Didn’t we learn our lesson the first time?”
“Why are you so upset? You were okay with two nights ago,” I said harshly, feeling helpless and confused.
“That was before I actually heard his crazy plan. Dealing with the virus is dangerous enough, playing with it is just begging it to explode in your face!”
“I won’t be playing with it, I’ll be carefully manipulating in a sterile, controlled, safe environment where every precaution and safety measure will be taken.”
“I’m not two years old Mohinder; stop talking to me like I’m a child!” Matthew exploded at me.
“Perhaps if you weren’t acting like a child I wouldn’t need to treat you as one,” I yelled back.
We were standing a foot apart, facing off as two gladiators at the Collosseum in a battle to the death as an audience of Sylars cheered when Emperor Bennet signaled the release of the hungry lions, rather than the lovers and partners we really are.
“Fine,” Matthew huffed, throwing his hands up in the air, “You go ahead and do what you want, it’s what you’re going to do anyways.”
He ran a hand through his hair, face suddenly registering exhaustion, “I’m going to be late for work,” he said resignedly.
“Matthew,” I said softly and reached out to him, regretting my words immediately.
He jerked away, refusing to meet my eyes, and grabbed his coat from the rack, opening and shutting the door before it even registered to me that he was actually leaving.
I sat down at the table with a heavy sigh, leaning down to rest my head in my hands. The morning conversation that I had spent half the night planning down to the last comma hadn’t gone nearly as well as I expected, as I hoped. I was hoping for Matthew’s support but would have been just as happy with his understanding. I didn’t want to have to do this without him. I needed him by my side. I don’t think I can do this without him at my back, keeping me grounded and safe. I would have to try to convince him tonight. Right now I was going to be late for my second foray into the depths of purgatory to have a little chat with Noah Bennet.
I was still unsure of the reasonableness, or the intelligence really, of this plan. More importantly, I still was doubtful of the feasibility of the plan. Could it be done? You may as well just ask me be recreate my own Big Bang complete with new life organisms and a self-sustaining ecosystem. That might actually be easier. I know more about that. Adjusting the genetic makeup of a virus so that it would attack the genetic makeup of just one human being without any collateral damage; it is the stuff of science fiction. I have this unusually disturbing and yet, still amusing image in my head of the old Frankenstein movies that Matthew and Molly enjoy terrifying themselves with. I keep picturing me in a lab coat with leather gloves and my hair standing on end, laughing manically and shouting “it’s alive!” whilst flipping the switch that brings the monster to life, allowing it to run free and wreak havoc on an unsuspecting town. 
Unnervingly appropriate as well.
Disturbing thoughts aside, I had to protect my family at all costs. Matthew and Molly were all that mattered to me and if protecting them meant dealing with the devil in horn-rimmed glasses than so be it.
I know he gets coffee everyday at the same shop two blocks from the office so two days after our little “discussion”, I waited for him at a table in the back, by the windows. I was not worried that he wouldn’t see me in the morning crush of caffeine addicts that reminded me just slightly of a bleary eyed and fumbling Matthew before he gets his first cup of coffee.  I would be more worried if he failed to see me and would have to seriously rethink the wisdom of getting involved with a man who was not playing his “A-game” as Matthew would say. Especially when Sylar was the opponent and our lives were the prize for winning.
He walked in, cool and confident in a way that made me hate the butterflies fluttering around in my stomach even more. I didn’t want to be this nervous, it made you vulnerable.   Bennet would take advantage of my anxiety if I let him. I could tell the second he glimpsed me, the telling quirk of his lips turning my edginess into annoyance.
“Mohinder,” he said with false brightness as he approached my table, snake oil smile sending a shiver up my spine, “I’m glad to see you. I didn’t take you for a coffee man. Always figured that would be Matt’s department.”
So this was how he was going to play the game. Matthew had all but told him we were involved as more than temporary roommates to raise Molly the other night. He wanted to gauge how deep my relationship with Matthew went but wouldn’t directly ask about it, so he would instead subtly hint at it and try to trick me into revealing it. At the same time he wanted the satisfaction of knowing that I came to him this time.
Well, two can play this game Bennet.
I pasted my own smile on my face, holding my cup of tea up, “I can’t speak for Matthew but this shop makes an absolutely divine chai tea.”
“Oh,” he said, “Did someone at work tell you how great this little shop is, or did you discover it for yourself?”
His arrogant tone and smug expression had me gritting my teeth and clenching my hand tighter around the plastic cup to resist the urge to pour the rest of my tea down on his head. It grated painfully that he was so confident in my acquiescing to his plan which, although true, was never a given.
“Actually Noah, I’ve been meaning to try the tea here for some time,” I responded coolly.
“Splendid, so glad that you managed to try it. Shall we walk to work together?” he asked, waving me ahead of him.
I stood up and made my way through the throng of people and out the door, careful to avoid bumping into them. Bennet followed close at my heels, everyone moving out of the way for him. We walked in silence for a minute before he finally broke down and interrupted the peace first.
“I take this to mean you’ve reconsidered.”
“On a probationary status. I don’t know if what you are asking is even possible but I will try. However, I can’t make any guarantees. And the rules Matthew set down still apply. Now I want you to answer something for me. If I do succeed in creating the virus, how do you plan on infecting Sylar? I can promise you that it is unlikely that he will just sit still and allow you to stick a needle in his arm.”
“Why don’t you just let me worry about that?”
“Why don’t you just tell me what your plan is instead of playing this game that you won’t win?” I said, stopping suddenly and forcing him to a halt beside me, “You want my help, I want to know everything. This isn’t going to work like before; no secrets this time. If you find that task impossible, then I would suggest finding someone else with access to the Shanti virus and knowledge enough to attempt the manipulation.”
He stared hard at me a moment, annoyance flickering across his face before it was replaced with the usual stony calm, “Okay.”
“So what is your plan to infect Sylar?” I pressed.
“Peter Petrelli. He has HIro Nakumura’s ability to stop time and he’s the only one who can go up against him and stand a chance.”
I gaped at him, “Are you actually serious? Do you honestly believe that Peter Petrelli will help you? You assassinated his brother!”
“That can’t be proven,” he said nonchalantly, “Besides, he won’t be helping me; he’ll be helping you.”
“Matthew was right,” I said, shaking my head, “This plan is insane and you’re insane and this is not going to work.”
“You can tell Peter what you deem appropriate. He doesn’t need to know about my involvement.”
He resumed walking and I followed behind him, slightly dazed. 
I shook my head again, “This is not going to work.”
“Don’t be such a pessimist Mohinder,” Bennet said, clapping me hard on the back.
Then he was gone and I was left to wander my way to the lab.
What have I gotten myself into?
I was afraid to go home for the first time since right after I discovered Sylar’s deception. I kept replaying this morning’s argument in my head all day. I barely got any work done and ended up breaking two beakers (which thankfully were empty). I was so involved in berating myself for my loss of control and yelling at Matthew that I didn’t even notice the time until I happened to glance at the clock. I was already an hour late.
I quickly packed my stuff and called home. The answering machine picked it up and I left a message apologizing and assuring them that I was on my way home. My hand was shaking as I unlocked the door with numb fingers when I finally made it home. I was dreading Molly’s panic and tears and another confrontation with Matthew. However, only silence greeted me in the dim shadows of the small apartment. Before panic fully set in I spied a slip of paper written on in Matthew’s scrawl taped to the fridge.
Went out for food. Bring you something back.
-Matt and Molly
I sank into the chair with a half-sob as the breath I didn’t realize I was holding squeezed out of my lungs. I was shaking and had to clutch the edge of the chair to keep from falling off. My head snapped up as the front door opened and Matthew and Molly came in. He carried a brown paper bag of Chinese, if my sense of smell could be relied on, and she was chattering happily at him.
“And I got a ninety-eight on my- Mohinder!” she cried, rushing into my arms.
I hugged her tight, reassuring myself with her warm embrace that she was alright. I saw Matthew cock his head out of the corner of my eye and switched to Tamil, hoping that he hadn’t picked up on my frightened thoughts.
“We brought food. Matt said that you would be okay with take-out cause it’s Friday and everything,” Molly said brightly, releasing me to go help Matthew unpack.
“Of course it’s alright darling,” I assured her.
“Why don’t’ you go pick a movie to watch doll-face,” Matthew said, nodding her towards the living room.
She nodded and hugged him quickly before skipping out to living room. Matthew moved to the counter, brushing a hand across my back along the way, and opened the top cupboard to take plates down. I moved to stand behind him, unsure of what to say.
“I know we just had pizza the other night but I thought you might be late today and figured…”
He went silent as I wrapped my arms around his waist, pressing a kiss to the patch of exposed skin between his shoulder and neck and resting my chin on his shoulder.
“Please don’t be angry with me Matthew. Please don’t push me away. I need you.”
He turned around and cupped my chin in one hand, angling my face up to kiss him. He broke the kiss to press our foreheads together, “I’m not mad Mohinder; I’m worried. I’m worried and I’m scared of losing you. I don’t want to be the person to tell Molly you’re not coming home.”
“I know,” I said earnestly, “I don’t want to be the person to tell Molly you are not coming home. That’s why I have to try. Don’t you understand Matthew? I can’t live in fear of Sylar finding you and killing you and having to be the one to tell our little girl her hero isn’t coming home. I have to try.”
Matthew sighed and leaned into me, laying his head against my shoulder, “I can’t lose you Mohinder.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, blocking the hot tears that threatened my composure, “You won’t Matthew, not if I have anything to say about it.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“Can you promise that some junkie won’t shoot you one day or some drunk driver won’t run you off the road one night? You can’t and neither can I. The best we can do is promise to try. I can promise you that I will try my damndest to make sure I come home every night to you and to Molly.”
“You fucking better,” Matthew said, kissing me again.
I tangled my fingers in his hair, kissing him desperately, as he slid his hands down to grip my hips tightly. I felt like I was drowning and he was the only thing keeping my head above water.
“Seriously guys, if you’re gonna make-out I’m gonna watch the movie and eat by myself,” Molly’s voice interrupted us.
We broke apart laughing. Matthew grabbed the plates while I quickly swiped my cheeks to brush away the tears that had accidentally fallen.
“What did you pick darling?” I asked her as we squished onto the couch.
“Alvin and the Chipmunks Meet Frankenstein.”