Fiction: Somewhere That's Green Part 2
May. 27th, 2009 09:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kethniName: Somewhere That's Green Part 2
Rating: 18 for sex
Note: Sequel to Playing House
It’s a Christmas tree, in fact; genuine, honest-to-goodness, fir tree and an eight foot one at that. He beams at our glazed expressions.
“What do you think?”
“Uh, wow,” I say. “That’s great.”
“We don’t have to use Terry? Thank god,” Molly says.
“Terry?” Mohinder asks.
“Terry the tree,” I say weakly, all too aware of Laurie covering her face as she laughs. “Plastic tree, three feet high, we’ve had it a while.”
“A while? You got that horrible thing our first Christmas,” Molly says. “Of course now we need new ornaments.”
“No,” I say firmly. “We don’t need new ornaments.”
“But ours are tacky and horrible,” Molly complains.
“You liked them well enough when you picked them,” I say.
“I was ten!” she pleads. “Come on dad; new tree, new ornaments, the place doesn’t have to look nasty this year!”
Mohinder’s hand slips into mine. “There’s something to be said for tradition, Molly,” he says, surprising me. “Maybe we could get some new ones and add them to ones you already have?” he squeezes my hand. “If Terry is only three feet high there’s probably not enough.”
“I guess,” I say unwillingly.
“Should I not have bought the tree?” Mohinder asks, putting his arms around my waist and resting his face on my back.
“It was a really nice thing to do,” I say, rinsing off a plate and putting it in the rack.
“But I shouldn’t?”
“I didn’t say that.” I turn around and his head rests against my chest. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I just... I’m sentimental about stupid things. Molly doesn’t get it.”
“I do,” he says, looking up at me.
“I know.” I kiss his forehead. “Thank you. It’s a great tree.”
“We should get some mistletoe.” He waggles his eyebrows at me. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”
“Because there’s not enough kissing goes on in this house?” I laugh.
“Don’t forget it’s my work do tomorrow.”
“It’s your what?” I ask.
He lets go of me and wanders toward the door. “The Christmas party at the university. I’m going to show you off.”
Well, he’s going to try. I’m not really arm candy material.
***
He sings in the car on the way to the university. A Christmas medley straight off those tape they play non-stop in the mall.
“I’ll bite, how come you’re so enthusiastic about Christmas when you’re not Christian?” I ask.
“Cultural differences,” he says with a bright smile. “In the UK, Christmas is much more of a secular holiday. Nobody expects you to be a Christian to celebrate it. I love Christmas, it’s all so bright and cheery. Decorations and parties and presents.” He shrugs sadly. “Just a shame there won’t be any snow.”
“Was there snow in England?” I ask curiously.
“At Christmas? Sometimes, if it was a particularly cold winter.” He taps his fingers on the steering wheel. “A Christmas in bright sunshine is so odd. Although there are parts of Scotland in permafrost I’m told.” He shudders melodramatically.
“The guys who wear kilts?” I ask.
Mohinder rolls his eyes. “The only people I know who wear kilts are Englishmen at weddings.”
“Sounds like you’re better off here,” I tease.
“I could get married there,” he says quietly.
I sit up straighter in the car seat. “Would you want to?”
“Well, not in Scotland,” he says with a smile. “But in the UK I could. We could. I don’t understand why it’s such a problem here, aren’t you supposed to be the country of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness?”
I rub his leg. “Pursuit yeah, we can chase it, we’re just not allowed to have it.”
He pulls into a car park full of the most badly parked cars I’ve ever seen in my life. Some barely inches apart, some right in the middle of the boundary lines, and one halfway up the embankment. Mohinder abandons his car, mostly in a space, near the entrance and gets out.
“Show time!” he says excitedly.
There are more partners than I was expecting. Yeah, I know that I shouldn’t make assumptions. Case in point: there are some female members of staff. Only three, but still. One of them is an older lady, grey haired and slow moving, doctor something or other, and the other two are sat to one side watching the party; a thirtyish brunette and a fortyish blonde, both with short hair, glasses, and amused expressions. The blonde is smoking a cigarette and making inroads into a wine glassful of some sticky and heavy-looking liqueur while the brunette is nursing a bottle of beer and eating a selection from the buffet.
“Ooh hello,” says the brunette, winking at me. “You must be Mohinder’s policeman.”
“Hi,” the blonde says, blowing out a stream of smoke.
“That’s right, Matt Parkman,” I say offering my hand.
“I’m Jody and this is Maggie,” the brunette says, shaking my hand. “She’s HR and I’m safety. But we’re off duty, so don’t come running to us when one of the boys electrocutes his balls.”
“Or tries to prove Heineken’s theory by breaking into the physics lab,” Maggie adds.
“Do you mean Heisenberg?” Jody asks.
“Do I?”
Arms wrap around my waist suddenly and Mohinder squeezes me before ducking around in front of me.
“I thought I’d lost you then!” he says pulling me down into a kiss.
“Aww,” I hear Jody say. “Sweet.”
At any Christmas party there’s always one joker with his shirt off and mistletoe dangling from his belt. Here there are three; and one of them is the grey haired female doctor whatsit.
“I think we should be going,” I say to Mohinder.
“Now?” he asks, wide-eyed.
“Yeah, before people start getting to the point of having sex on the lab benches.”
“We could do that! Can I get my lab coat first?” he asks, pulling at my hand. “I look very professional in my lab coat.”
“No, no, no,” I laugh. “You know what I love about you?”
“No,” he says, surprising me with his seriousness. “What?”
“Among other things,” I say quickly, “I love that anyone else would have to be drunk to suggest that. But you’re just so you that you say it anytime you think it.”
Mohinder looks at me uncertainly. “That’s a good thing?”
“Yeah, it is. I love that you’re so open and honest,” I say.
He beams at me; that bright smile without any guile or pretence, and hugs me tightly. “I must’ve been someone wonderful in a previous life to get you.”
“Argh, now you’re embarrassing me. Come on, let’s get home.”
“I see where Molly gets her emotional reticence from,” Mohinder says tartly.
***
Molly leans onto the kitchen table and watches me burn the dinner. “He’s not going to give it up you know. He really wants to go to your Christmas party.”
“I don’t,” I say flatly.
“I’m going shopping with him tomorrow after school. He wants to buy a new outfit for the party.”
I rescue the chicken from incineration and give the vegetables a stir.
“See if you can persuade him to go to a tailor. None of his clothes fit properly,” I suggest.
She nods idly and twists a lock of hair around a finger. “Is it suit or casual? Or should I let him buy a Santa costume?”
“Don’t even joke about that,” I beg. “Smart casual, come on Moll’s, you have a far better idea of this fashion stuff than either of us.”
“That’s true,” she says, nodding seriously. “I’ll make him presentable for you.”
“He’s not a doll to be dressed up,” I say shortly. “Don’t talk about him that way, okay?”
“Dad, you know I love Mohinder,” she complains.
I start dishing out the food and wave a ladle at her. “I know that. But that doesn’t mean you can not respect him. He’s your stepdad, not your little brother.”
“Actually he’s not my stepdad unless you marry him,” she says, sticking her tongue out at me.
“Don’t make me come over there,” I say scowling at her.
“Or what, you’ll ladle my ass?”
“Language madam!” I warn.
Molly laughs and stands up. “I’ll tell Mohinder that dinner is nearly ready.”
“Do you need another lift to work tomorrow?” Mohinder asks.
“Yeah, I’ll get my car fixed soon. I just need to scratch the money together,” I say, feeling myself blush. I just hope he got the message last time, and doesn’t offer to give me the money again. It’s humiliating enough without that.
“I like driving you to work,” he says smiling. “I shall have to sabotage your car so I can give you a lift every day.”
“I wouldn’t put it past you,” I say with a smile.
Molly blows out her cheeks and pushes a piece of paper across the table. “So, would you sign my permission slip?”
“What’s it for?”
“The Christmas party, you don’t have to read it, just sign where I put the cross,” she says sweetly.
“Is she up to no good?” Mohinder asks me.
“Oh yeah,” I agree, “definitely.” I unfold the paper and peer at it. “Uh, Mohinder, would you read this?”
“It’s nothing, really,” Molly whines. “I’m not in trouble!”
Mohinder reads through the form, twice from the look of it, and then looks at Molly. “You don’t want us to chaperone your dance?” he asks, hurt.
“Mohinder, nobody wants their parents to chaperone,” she groans. “It’s embarrassing.”
“How much?” I ask, looking at her.
“How much what?” Mohinder asks blankly.
Molly scowls at me. “You don’t really want to do it.”
“Sure we do. We want to be involved in your school life as much as possible,” I say.
“I’ll wash the dishes for a week,” she offers.
“Pfft, a month,” I counter.
“Um, wouldn’t it be fun to chaperone?” Mohinder asks softly.
“A month!” Molly panics. “Deal!”
“Molly would be mortified,” I say to him.
“Oh.”
“She’s right,” I say quickly. “None of the kids will want their parents to do it.” I turn back to Molly. “A month? Shake on it.”
“You don’t want to do it any more than I want you to,” she scowls, but shakes my hand.
“I want to do it,” Mohinder says quietly. I squeeze his hand.
“They get drunk, they puke up, they sneak off into odd rooms to try and have sex. It’s not fun,” I promise him and then turn to Molly. “And if you do any of those you’ll still be grounded when you’re fifty.”
Molly rolls her eyes and flicks the paper with her finger. “No dad. Now please sign the slip?”
For once I’m home alone when Molly gets back from school. She starts talking immediately she gets through the door; following me around the kitchen and then into the living room. I know how she spent her day, who’s annoyed her, the latest fashions, and why she doesn’t like the newest school heartthrob. I forgot how tiring it is to hear about her day but it’s nice to know what’s happening with her. Even if it is all boys and clothes.
“Dad,” she says cautiously.
“What?”
“Mohinder’s really excited about your Christmas present,” she says. “Like, really excited. He wants to give it to you tonight.”
I glance at her. “That’s a problem?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. It depends what he got. You’re always touchy about the money though.”
“I’m not touchy,” I protest.
“See? Even mentioning it you get touchy,” she says triumphantly. “It’s not his fault you make a lot less money than he does. You should’ve let him pay to get the car fixed.”
I drop onto the sofa and shake my head. “I’m not sponging off Mohinder.”
Molly rolls her eyes and throws a cushion at me. “He’s your boyfriend. Promise me you won’t get pissy about his present?”
“All I got him was a set of DVDs. We should’ve set a price limit,” I say blowing out my cheeks.
“He wouldn’t have stuck to it anyway,” she says lightly. “You know he’d just flutter his eyelashes and you’d let it go.”
“Shut up,” I suggest.
“Come on, come on!” Mohinder says eagerly, guiding me outside.
“Mohinder, if you want me to be fast you shouldn’t have put the blindfold on me,” I say mildly.
“Grouch,” Molly says lightly. I notice she didn’t get blindfolded.
“Ow!” I protest. “I just stubbed my toe.”
“Sorry! Sorry!” Mohinder says, kissing my cheek. “It’ll be worth it.”
We turn a corner, I think, we must be round the back of the house.
“Uh oh,” Molly says under her breath and my heart sinks.
Mohinder pulls off the scarf from around my eyes and I blink in the sudden light.
“Ta da!” he says happily.
It’s a brand new SUV, one of those hybrid ones, top of the line.
“Now you don’t have to worry about getting your car fixed!” Mohinder says. He looks at Molly, standing with her hand over her mouth, and then at me, the hope on his face just starting to waver. “Don’t you like it?”
I force a smile and pull him close. “That’s really generous.” I squeeze him tight and kiss his cheek. “Thank you. All I got you was DVDs.”
“Ooh of what?” he asks, bouncing up and down.
“Self help stuff; body language, relationships, sex,” I say. “I know you have books. I thought the DVDs might be good.”
“Really, can I see?” he asks, digging in his pocket. “Here’s the key to the car. Where are the DVDs?”
“In my wardrobe.”
“Thanks!” he bobs up on his tiptoes to kiss me and then bolts back towards the house.
Molly sidles closer and nudges me with her elbow. “Guess this makes you a kept man, huh?”
“That’s not funny.”
She slides her arm through mine. “I thought you handled that very well,” she says seriously.
“Gee, thanks, mom.”
“Can we see if there’s a DVD player?” Molly asks hopefully. “Ooh look it has those pull down screens in the back.”
I walk into the bedroom and Mohinder tackles me onto the bed, kissing my face.
“I love my presents,” he says between kisses. “Best presents ever.”
I roll us over so he’s underneath. “I love mine too. Thank you.”
“It’s just practical,” he says shrugging. “It’s not very thoughtful I’m afraid. Not like yours.” He kisses me before I can answer and slides a hand down my pants.
I’ll live with the car.
***
He looks fantastic; stubble that looks almost sculptured, glossy curls, a white cotton shirt that skims and hugs his chest, linen trousers that show off his ass and legs.
“Will I pass?” he asks, spinning in a circle. “Ooh dizzy.”
“You dingbat,” I say reaching out to ruffle his hair.
He ducks his head away. “No, no, no! I want to look presentable for the party. Go and get ready.” He slaps my ass. “Shake a leg.”
“You’re lucky that you’re cute, Suresh,” I pretend to grumble, heading to the stairs.
“And I’m getting better in bed!” he calls after me cheerfully.
***
Mohinder insists on driving so that I can have a drink it I want. No matter that I’m going to stay stone cold sober if it kills me; he’s adamant I have the option.
I feel sick, which is obviously ridiculous. Please god let nobody happen to Mohinder. He’s nervous too. His hands are shaking on the steering wheel and he’s gabbling about some... gene re-sequencing or something. I have no idea. He’s not expecting an answer fortunately; he’s speaking to distract himself.
“It’s not too late to turn around and go home,” I suggest.
He pauses in mid-flow and glances at me. “That’s not what you want, is it?”
Yes, yes, yes. “No, but you know, it’s an option. There’s no pressure to go. It’s not compulsory.”
“I’ll be good,” he says softly. “I won’t embarrass you. I’ll try not to embarrass you.”
“I’m not worried about being embarrassed,” I say honestly, squeezing his knee.
“What are you worried about?”
“Someone upsetting you,” I admit,
Mohinder smiles and look away. “Matt, I’m a grown-up. I can take care of myself.”
“Oh I know.” I pat his knee. “Doesn’t mean I don’t worry,” I say.
As much as I don’t want to be here it made sense to get to the party early. Get in early, show my face, get out. Hopefully before anyone is so drunk they get aggressive or too inquisitive.
Mohinder slips his hand into mine as we cross the road. I have to fight the instinct to let go of his hand and tell him to be more careful. If my boyfriend wants to hold my hand then he should be able to. Ideally.
The party is just starting. People are at the ‘standing around and chatting awkwardly’ stage that comes just before horribly uncoordinated dancing and someone trying to improvise karaoke. Mohinder gives my hand a little squeeze and then lets go of it. There’s a little flutter of glances as people notice me, I really don’t socialise, and then a lot more attention when Mohinder walks in after me.
Great, we’re getting stared at. Mohinder is playing up to it, I swear to god, he’s swinging his hips and sauntering after me to the bar. Or the three tables covered in bottle and plastic glasses at least. I put the six-pack and the bottle of wine we brought on the table and hunt for a soft drink. Mohinder hands me a large, very large, glass of wine and looks around the room curiously.
“Holy shit,” Lila Chambers says, walking over and holding out her hand to Mohinder. “You’re Parkman’s boyfriend?”
“Mohinder Suresh,” he says nicely, obviously biting his lip.
“Jesus, Parkman, how did you pull this guy? Did you kidnap him?”
“Yes,” Mohinder says, startling me. “And now I’m his prisoner.” He waggles his eyebrows. “But it has its compensations.”
Lila crows with laughter. “So, Mohinder,” she says tapping him with her glass. “Fill me up, huh?”
There aren’t too many women in the station, worse luck. Most of them are fine with it generally. The worse I’d expect is a funny look or a muttered ‘what a waste’, in Mohinder’s direction. As it is, the four female patrol officers and two female detectives fuss over Mohinder exactly the same way Molly and her friends do. I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to realise that he knows exactly how to wind women round his little finger.
He’s supposed to do that to me, I’m his boyfriend. Other people? Hmm.
Dale Henderson is glaring at us both, right across the room. He turned up maybe twenty minutes ago and he’d already been drinking. I’ve never exchanged more than a couple of words with the man. I’ve not had any trouble here and I don’t want any now, but he’s drinking and staring. Time to go I think.
“Parkman?”
Fuck.
“Yes Captain Briar,” I say, forcing a smile at the man and his wife. Mohinder appears by my side magically. “This is my partner, Mohinder Suresh.”
Mohinder takes a deep breath as they look us both over.
“Pleasure to meet you son,” the captain says gruffly, shaking Mohinder’s hand. “This is my wife, Marie.”
“You’re not a policeman are you?” Mrs Briar giggles as Mohinder gives her his sweetest smile and shakes her hand.
“No I’m a Professor of Genetics at the university,” he says nicely. “I have to have my excitement by living vicariously through Matthew.”
“Oh! A professor!” she says, wide-eyed. “But you’re so young!”
“I received my doctorates a number of years ago,” he says modestly. “In genetics and biology.”
“Show-off,” I say mildly.
“Everyone else is a police officer,” he protests. “You’re all so brave and thrilling, and you all have uniforms or at least guns. I feel like the one little boy at the fancy dress party without fancy dress,” he sulks.
Mrs Briar takes his arm. “You’re far more exciting than I am... oh, is it doctor or professor Suresh?”
“Oh, Mohinder, please,” he says as she pulls him away.
“Glad to see you here tonight, Parkman,” Captain Briar says.
“Thank you sir.” I toy with my half drunk glass of wine.
“Boyfriend dragged you here, huh?” he asks wryly.
I can feel myself going red. “That obvious?”
He actually laughs and then sips his wine. “Look Parkman, I get why you’re wary. If I’d had that shit at your last station I’d be wary too. But you’ve been here six months. I can’t promise none of guys are uncomfortable; hell I can’t even promise they don’t twitch when Rodriguez walks in the room, or make comments when the female officers are around. If you get any hassle though I will come down on them like a ton of bricks.”
“Thank you, Sir,” I say surprised.
He nods and takes another sip of wine. “You’re not a whiner. You keep your head down and you don’t make waves. I respect that.”
“Uh, thank you sir.”
“But you need to show your face a little more. People feel they don’t know you. Your fellow officers need to feel they can rely on you. Understand son?”
“Yes sir,” I agree.
There’s a horrible sound; the all too familiar slight thump, ‘oof’ of expelled air, and shoe scrape on the floor, as someone shoves someone else. I look over as people start to flock around.
“God damn it,” Briar says sharply. “There’s always one.”
It’s Dale Henderson getting into it with Lila, except that’s not it; she’s just in the way, standing between him and Mohinder. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I jog over there just in time to here Henderson holding forth.
“...not natural, it’s just not natural, that’s all I’m saying.”
“Really? Are you in favour of an all natural existence?” Mohinder asks, he’s using his ‘debating’ voice and my heart sinks.
“Yeah, I’m big on nature,” Henderson slurs.
“Because I can’t help noticing that you’re wearing clothes; do you think those are natural? Is there an ‘unflattering trousers’ tree somewhere in the wild? What about the distilled alcohol, do you think that’s just happens?”
“Well...”
“Did you walk here?” Mohinder steamrollers. “Of course you realise that cars and planes and boats are all manmade constructs and therefore unnatural.”
“Shut up,” Henderson growls.
“Mohinder, that’s enough,” I say quietly.
“Is it?” he asks. “I haven’t even touched on medicine or housing.” He turns back to Henderson. “Of course you’ll have to stop shaving. On the plus side then you’ll fit in with the rest of the cavemen.”
Henderson lunges forward with half a dozen people trying to pull him back.
I duck in front of Mohinder and push him back. “What part of ‘enough’ don’t you get?”
“The part where I have to pander to someone else’s prejudices,” he retorts. “The part where you have to. It isn’t right too...”
There’s a sort of gasp and then swearing, so quickly it barely registers. Mohinder’s eyes go huge and someone spins me by the shoulder. Henderson’s fist so close, Mohinder pulling me back by my belt, and I’m throwing a punch at Henderson.
“Well congratulations, everyone knows they can rely on you to get stuck in if there’s a scuffle,” Captain Briar says sourly, looking down at me.
“Sorry sir,” I say quietly, around my fat lip.
“It’s fine son, you were defending yourself. Do you want to make a complaint?” he asks.
“No sir.”
He slaps my shoulder as he walks away. A lot of them are doing that as they walk past; patting my shoulder, punching my arm. Being this popular is going to mark me black and blue.
Mohinder scurries over with something wrapped in a teacloth. He ducks down without meeting my eyes and gently presses it to my mouth.
“We better get you home,” he says softly.
I put my hand over his and he pulls it away quickly; leaving me holding the teacloth wrapped around what feels like a bag of frozen peas.
I’m a little shaken up still, I haven’t been in an actual honest-to-goodness fist fight in years, so I follow Mohinder out and to the car. He’s very quiet and he doesn’t want to look at me.
“You okay?” I ask, as I struggle to do my seatbelt.
“Yeah,” he says quietly, leaning over to do it for me.
“You don’t sound okay.”
“Can we do this back home?” he begs. “If I get upset now I won’t be able to drive properly and then we’ll have to call a cab and that means waiting and on a weekend too and...”
“Okay,” I say quickly. “If that’s what you want.”
His mouth briefly spasms into something nothing like a smile and everything like a grimace.
“Thank you.”
It’s not really late but, after I bin the frozen peas, I head upstairs anyway and he trudges after me. He slumps onto the bed, head bowed, and fingers playing with the bedcovers. If it was Molly doing that I’d call bullshit, but it’s not, it’s Mohinder and it wouldn’t occur to him to play up to me like that.
“Hey.” I sit on the bed and take his hand.
Mohinder leans against me. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I got you into a fight and you didn’t even want to go to the party but I made you go and now you’re going to be in trouble and it’s my fault and I’m really sorry and...”
“It’s okay. I shouldn’t have let it happen.”
“You’re not my father, Matthew,” he says softly, “and I’m not a child. You don’t have to protect me.” He tips his head onto my shoulder. “What did the captain say? Are you suspended?”
“No, but I’m going to make sure I’m on my best behaviour for a while.” I turn my head and kiss his cheek. “You’re right. You’re not a kid and if some homophobe has a go at you then you have every right to rip them to shreds.”
“Even if it gets me beaten up?” he asks.
“Fuck that.” I tip him back onto the bed and climb over him. “You’re far too pretty to get beaten up.”
“You look like a duck,” he tries to laugh.
“Hey, what’s this,” I say, trying to dry his eyes. “No blubbing.”
Mohinder manages to poke his tongue at me while pushing away my hands and wiping his face and eyes.
“You could’ve been really hurt.”
“Really hurt? I look like a duck!” I pull off my shirt and undress him.
“Why do you put up with me?” he asks softly. “I must embarrass you, I get you into trouble, I make all kind of mistakes. It’s horrible when I see that look on your face or Molly’s face and I know I’ve done something but I don’t know what!”
“I don’t ‘put up’ with you Mohinder,” I promise. I wrap my arms around his waist and kiss him softly on the lips. “I love you, all of you. I don’t love you despite that stuff. It’s part of you. You wouldn’t be you if you were different.”
He pushes down my trousers and then wraps his legs around my waist. “You don’t have to make me feel better.”
“It’s the truth.”
Mohinder half twists and reaches into the bedside table drawer to pull out lube. “I love you,” he says handing me the lube and sliding his arms around my neck. “I’m sorry I got you punched in the face.”
I kiss him softly and reach down to prepare him. “Stop that, okay? It’s done.”
It takes him a while to relax. Kiss down his neck, his chest, his stomach. He squirms underneath me; his erection pressing against me, and his nails rake down my back.
He murmurs happily as I enter him and bites at my shoulder and neck.
He curls up on my chest just staring into my face.
“What?” I ask, stroking his hair.
“Nothing.”
“What?” I ask again, smiling.
Mohinder shrugs and trails his fingers over my stomach. “I just like looking at you.”
“My view is better.”
“That’s a matter of opinion,” he says, reaching up to touch my fat lip. “Even with that.”
“You feeling okay?” I ask quietly.
“Sometimes I just feel down,” he says with a shrug. “Normally with good reason.”
I wrap my arms around his waist and he smiles at me. “Are you feeling down now?”
“No.” He leans up to kiss me. “Now I’m all warm and snugly and revoltingly fuzzy. It’s really quite disgusting.”
“Yuck,” I agree, returning his kiss.
The End
Rating: 18 for sex
Note: Sequel to Playing House
It’s a Christmas tree, in fact; genuine, honest-to-goodness, fir tree and an eight foot one at that. He beams at our glazed expressions.
“What do you think?”
“Uh, wow,” I say. “That’s great.”
“We don’t have to use Terry? Thank god,” Molly says.
“Terry?” Mohinder asks.
“Terry the tree,” I say weakly, all too aware of Laurie covering her face as she laughs. “Plastic tree, three feet high, we’ve had it a while.”
“A while? You got that horrible thing our first Christmas,” Molly says. “Of course now we need new ornaments.”
“No,” I say firmly. “We don’t need new ornaments.”
“But ours are tacky and horrible,” Molly complains.
“You liked them well enough when you picked them,” I say.
“I was ten!” she pleads. “Come on dad; new tree, new ornaments, the place doesn’t have to look nasty this year!”
Mohinder’s hand slips into mine. “There’s something to be said for tradition, Molly,” he says, surprising me. “Maybe we could get some new ones and add them to ones you already have?” he squeezes my hand. “If Terry is only three feet high there’s probably not enough.”
“I guess,” I say unwillingly.
“Should I not have bought the tree?” Mohinder asks, putting his arms around my waist and resting his face on my back.
“It was a really nice thing to do,” I say, rinsing off a plate and putting it in the rack.
“But I shouldn’t?”
“I didn’t say that.” I turn around and his head rests against my chest. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I just... I’m sentimental about stupid things. Molly doesn’t get it.”
“I do,” he says, looking up at me.
“I know.” I kiss his forehead. “Thank you. It’s a great tree.”
“We should get some mistletoe.” He waggles his eyebrows at me. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”
“Because there’s not enough kissing goes on in this house?” I laugh.
“Don’t forget it’s my work do tomorrow.”
“It’s your what?” I ask.
He lets go of me and wanders toward the door. “The Christmas party at the university. I’m going to show you off.”
Well, he’s going to try. I’m not really arm candy material.
***
He sings in the car on the way to the university. A Christmas medley straight off those tape they play non-stop in the mall.
“I’ll bite, how come you’re so enthusiastic about Christmas when you’re not Christian?” I ask.
“Cultural differences,” he says with a bright smile. “In the UK, Christmas is much more of a secular holiday. Nobody expects you to be a Christian to celebrate it. I love Christmas, it’s all so bright and cheery. Decorations and parties and presents.” He shrugs sadly. “Just a shame there won’t be any snow.”
“Was there snow in England?” I ask curiously.
“At Christmas? Sometimes, if it was a particularly cold winter.” He taps his fingers on the steering wheel. “A Christmas in bright sunshine is so odd. Although there are parts of Scotland in permafrost I’m told.” He shudders melodramatically.
“The guys who wear kilts?” I ask.
Mohinder rolls his eyes. “The only people I know who wear kilts are Englishmen at weddings.”
“Sounds like you’re better off here,” I tease.
“I could get married there,” he says quietly.
I sit up straighter in the car seat. “Would you want to?”
“Well, not in Scotland,” he says with a smile. “But in the UK I could. We could. I don’t understand why it’s such a problem here, aren’t you supposed to be the country of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness?”
I rub his leg. “Pursuit yeah, we can chase it, we’re just not allowed to have it.”
He pulls into a car park full of the most badly parked cars I’ve ever seen in my life. Some barely inches apart, some right in the middle of the boundary lines, and one halfway up the embankment. Mohinder abandons his car, mostly in a space, near the entrance and gets out.
“Show time!” he says excitedly.
There are more partners than I was expecting. Yeah, I know that I shouldn’t make assumptions. Case in point: there are some female members of staff. Only three, but still. One of them is an older lady, grey haired and slow moving, doctor something or other, and the other two are sat to one side watching the party; a thirtyish brunette and a fortyish blonde, both with short hair, glasses, and amused expressions. The blonde is smoking a cigarette and making inroads into a wine glassful of some sticky and heavy-looking liqueur while the brunette is nursing a bottle of beer and eating a selection from the buffet.
“Ooh hello,” says the brunette, winking at me. “You must be Mohinder’s policeman.”
“Hi,” the blonde says, blowing out a stream of smoke.
“That’s right, Matt Parkman,” I say offering my hand.
“I’m Jody and this is Maggie,” the brunette says, shaking my hand. “She’s HR and I’m safety. But we’re off duty, so don’t come running to us when one of the boys electrocutes his balls.”
“Or tries to prove Heineken’s theory by breaking into the physics lab,” Maggie adds.
“Do you mean Heisenberg?” Jody asks.
“Do I?”
Arms wrap around my waist suddenly and Mohinder squeezes me before ducking around in front of me.
“I thought I’d lost you then!” he says pulling me down into a kiss.
“Aww,” I hear Jody say. “Sweet.”
At any Christmas party there’s always one joker with his shirt off and mistletoe dangling from his belt. Here there are three; and one of them is the grey haired female doctor whatsit.
“I think we should be going,” I say to Mohinder.
“Now?” he asks, wide-eyed.
“Yeah, before people start getting to the point of having sex on the lab benches.”
“We could do that! Can I get my lab coat first?” he asks, pulling at my hand. “I look very professional in my lab coat.”
“No, no, no,” I laugh. “You know what I love about you?”
“No,” he says, surprising me with his seriousness. “What?”
“Among other things,” I say quickly, “I love that anyone else would have to be drunk to suggest that. But you’re just so you that you say it anytime you think it.”
Mohinder looks at me uncertainly. “That’s a good thing?”
“Yeah, it is. I love that you’re so open and honest,” I say.
He beams at me; that bright smile without any guile or pretence, and hugs me tightly. “I must’ve been someone wonderful in a previous life to get you.”
“Argh, now you’re embarrassing me. Come on, let’s get home.”
“I see where Molly gets her emotional reticence from,” Mohinder says tartly.
***
Molly leans onto the kitchen table and watches me burn the dinner. “He’s not going to give it up you know. He really wants to go to your Christmas party.”
“I don’t,” I say flatly.
“I’m going shopping with him tomorrow after school. He wants to buy a new outfit for the party.”
I rescue the chicken from incineration and give the vegetables a stir.
“See if you can persuade him to go to a tailor. None of his clothes fit properly,” I suggest.
She nods idly and twists a lock of hair around a finger. “Is it suit or casual? Or should I let him buy a Santa costume?”
“Don’t even joke about that,” I beg. “Smart casual, come on Moll’s, you have a far better idea of this fashion stuff than either of us.”
“That’s true,” she says, nodding seriously. “I’ll make him presentable for you.”
“He’s not a doll to be dressed up,” I say shortly. “Don’t talk about him that way, okay?”
“Dad, you know I love Mohinder,” she complains.
I start dishing out the food and wave a ladle at her. “I know that. But that doesn’t mean you can not respect him. He’s your stepdad, not your little brother.”
“Actually he’s not my stepdad unless you marry him,” she says, sticking her tongue out at me.
“Don’t make me come over there,” I say scowling at her.
“Or what, you’ll ladle my ass?”
“Language madam!” I warn.
Molly laughs and stands up. “I’ll tell Mohinder that dinner is nearly ready.”
“Do you need another lift to work tomorrow?” Mohinder asks.
“Yeah, I’ll get my car fixed soon. I just need to scratch the money together,” I say, feeling myself blush. I just hope he got the message last time, and doesn’t offer to give me the money again. It’s humiliating enough without that.
“I like driving you to work,” he says smiling. “I shall have to sabotage your car so I can give you a lift every day.”
“I wouldn’t put it past you,” I say with a smile.
Molly blows out her cheeks and pushes a piece of paper across the table. “So, would you sign my permission slip?”
“What’s it for?”
“The Christmas party, you don’t have to read it, just sign where I put the cross,” she says sweetly.
“Is she up to no good?” Mohinder asks me.
“Oh yeah,” I agree, “definitely.” I unfold the paper and peer at it. “Uh, Mohinder, would you read this?”
“It’s nothing, really,” Molly whines. “I’m not in trouble!”
Mohinder reads through the form, twice from the look of it, and then looks at Molly. “You don’t want us to chaperone your dance?” he asks, hurt.
“Mohinder, nobody wants their parents to chaperone,” she groans. “It’s embarrassing.”
“How much?” I ask, looking at her.
“How much what?” Mohinder asks blankly.
Molly scowls at me. “You don’t really want to do it.”
“Sure we do. We want to be involved in your school life as much as possible,” I say.
“I’ll wash the dishes for a week,” she offers.
“Pfft, a month,” I counter.
“Um, wouldn’t it be fun to chaperone?” Mohinder asks softly.
“A month!” Molly panics. “Deal!”
“Molly would be mortified,” I say to him.
“Oh.”
“She’s right,” I say quickly. “None of the kids will want their parents to do it.” I turn back to Molly. “A month? Shake on it.”
“You don’t want to do it any more than I want you to,” she scowls, but shakes my hand.
“I want to do it,” Mohinder says quietly. I squeeze his hand.
“They get drunk, they puke up, they sneak off into odd rooms to try and have sex. It’s not fun,” I promise him and then turn to Molly. “And if you do any of those you’ll still be grounded when you’re fifty.”
Molly rolls her eyes and flicks the paper with her finger. “No dad. Now please sign the slip?”
For once I’m home alone when Molly gets back from school. She starts talking immediately she gets through the door; following me around the kitchen and then into the living room. I know how she spent her day, who’s annoyed her, the latest fashions, and why she doesn’t like the newest school heartthrob. I forgot how tiring it is to hear about her day but it’s nice to know what’s happening with her. Even if it is all boys and clothes.
“Dad,” she says cautiously.
“What?”
“Mohinder’s really excited about your Christmas present,” she says. “Like, really excited. He wants to give it to you tonight.”
I glance at her. “That’s a problem?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. It depends what he got. You’re always touchy about the money though.”
“I’m not touchy,” I protest.
“See? Even mentioning it you get touchy,” she says triumphantly. “It’s not his fault you make a lot less money than he does. You should’ve let him pay to get the car fixed.”
I drop onto the sofa and shake my head. “I’m not sponging off Mohinder.”
Molly rolls her eyes and throws a cushion at me. “He’s your boyfriend. Promise me you won’t get pissy about his present?”
“All I got him was a set of DVDs. We should’ve set a price limit,” I say blowing out my cheeks.
“He wouldn’t have stuck to it anyway,” she says lightly. “You know he’d just flutter his eyelashes and you’d let it go.”
“Shut up,” I suggest.
“Come on, come on!” Mohinder says eagerly, guiding me outside.
“Mohinder, if you want me to be fast you shouldn’t have put the blindfold on me,” I say mildly.
“Grouch,” Molly says lightly. I notice she didn’t get blindfolded.
“Ow!” I protest. “I just stubbed my toe.”
“Sorry! Sorry!” Mohinder says, kissing my cheek. “It’ll be worth it.”
We turn a corner, I think, we must be round the back of the house.
“Uh oh,” Molly says under her breath and my heart sinks.
Mohinder pulls off the scarf from around my eyes and I blink in the sudden light.
“Ta da!” he says happily.
It’s a brand new SUV, one of those hybrid ones, top of the line.
“Now you don’t have to worry about getting your car fixed!” Mohinder says. He looks at Molly, standing with her hand over her mouth, and then at me, the hope on his face just starting to waver. “Don’t you like it?”
I force a smile and pull him close. “That’s really generous.” I squeeze him tight and kiss his cheek. “Thank you. All I got you was DVDs.”
“Ooh of what?” he asks, bouncing up and down.
“Self help stuff; body language, relationships, sex,” I say. “I know you have books. I thought the DVDs might be good.”
“Really, can I see?” he asks, digging in his pocket. “Here’s the key to the car. Where are the DVDs?”
“In my wardrobe.”
“Thanks!” he bobs up on his tiptoes to kiss me and then bolts back towards the house.
Molly sidles closer and nudges me with her elbow. “Guess this makes you a kept man, huh?”
“That’s not funny.”
She slides her arm through mine. “I thought you handled that very well,” she says seriously.
“Gee, thanks, mom.”
“Can we see if there’s a DVD player?” Molly asks hopefully. “Ooh look it has those pull down screens in the back.”
I walk into the bedroom and Mohinder tackles me onto the bed, kissing my face.
“I love my presents,” he says between kisses. “Best presents ever.”
I roll us over so he’s underneath. “I love mine too. Thank you.”
“It’s just practical,” he says shrugging. “It’s not very thoughtful I’m afraid. Not like yours.” He kisses me before I can answer and slides a hand down my pants.
I’ll live with the car.
***
He looks fantastic; stubble that looks almost sculptured, glossy curls, a white cotton shirt that skims and hugs his chest, linen trousers that show off his ass and legs.
“Will I pass?” he asks, spinning in a circle. “Ooh dizzy.”
“You dingbat,” I say reaching out to ruffle his hair.
He ducks his head away. “No, no, no! I want to look presentable for the party. Go and get ready.” He slaps my ass. “Shake a leg.”
“You’re lucky that you’re cute, Suresh,” I pretend to grumble, heading to the stairs.
“And I’m getting better in bed!” he calls after me cheerfully.
***
Mohinder insists on driving so that I can have a drink it I want. No matter that I’m going to stay stone cold sober if it kills me; he’s adamant I have the option.
I feel sick, which is obviously ridiculous. Please god let nobody happen to Mohinder. He’s nervous too. His hands are shaking on the steering wheel and he’s gabbling about some... gene re-sequencing or something. I have no idea. He’s not expecting an answer fortunately; he’s speaking to distract himself.
“It’s not too late to turn around and go home,” I suggest.
He pauses in mid-flow and glances at me. “That’s not what you want, is it?”
Yes, yes, yes. “No, but you know, it’s an option. There’s no pressure to go. It’s not compulsory.”
“I’ll be good,” he says softly. “I won’t embarrass you. I’ll try not to embarrass you.”
“I’m not worried about being embarrassed,” I say honestly, squeezing his knee.
“What are you worried about?”
“Someone upsetting you,” I admit,
Mohinder smiles and look away. “Matt, I’m a grown-up. I can take care of myself.”
“Oh I know.” I pat his knee. “Doesn’t mean I don’t worry,” I say.
As much as I don’t want to be here it made sense to get to the party early. Get in early, show my face, get out. Hopefully before anyone is so drunk they get aggressive or too inquisitive.
Mohinder slips his hand into mine as we cross the road. I have to fight the instinct to let go of his hand and tell him to be more careful. If my boyfriend wants to hold my hand then he should be able to. Ideally.
The party is just starting. People are at the ‘standing around and chatting awkwardly’ stage that comes just before horribly uncoordinated dancing and someone trying to improvise karaoke. Mohinder gives my hand a little squeeze and then lets go of it. There’s a little flutter of glances as people notice me, I really don’t socialise, and then a lot more attention when Mohinder walks in after me.
Great, we’re getting stared at. Mohinder is playing up to it, I swear to god, he’s swinging his hips and sauntering after me to the bar. Or the three tables covered in bottle and plastic glasses at least. I put the six-pack and the bottle of wine we brought on the table and hunt for a soft drink. Mohinder hands me a large, very large, glass of wine and looks around the room curiously.
“Holy shit,” Lila Chambers says, walking over and holding out her hand to Mohinder. “You’re Parkman’s boyfriend?”
“Mohinder Suresh,” he says nicely, obviously biting his lip.
“Jesus, Parkman, how did you pull this guy? Did you kidnap him?”
“Yes,” Mohinder says, startling me. “And now I’m his prisoner.” He waggles his eyebrows. “But it has its compensations.”
Lila crows with laughter. “So, Mohinder,” she says tapping him with her glass. “Fill me up, huh?”
There aren’t too many women in the station, worse luck. Most of them are fine with it generally. The worse I’d expect is a funny look or a muttered ‘what a waste’, in Mohinder’s direction. As it is, the four female patrol officers and two female detectives fuss over Mohinder exactly the same way Molly and her friends do. I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to realise that he knows exactly how to wind women round his little finger.
He’s supposed to do that to me, I’m his boyfriend. Other people? Hmm.
Dale Henderson is glaring at us both, right across the room. He turned up maybe twenty minutes ago and he’d already been drinking. I’ve never exchanged more than a couple of words with the man. I’ve not had any trouble here and I don’t want any now, but he’s drinking and staring. Time to go I think.
“Parkman?”
Fuck.
“Yes Captain Briar,” I say, forcing a smile at the man and his wife. Mohinder appears by my side magically. “This is my partner, Mohinder Suresh.”
Mohinder takes a deep breath as they look us both over.
“Pleasure to meet you son,” the captain says gruffly, shaking Mohinder’s hand. “This is my wife, Marie.”
“You’re not a policeman are you?” Mrs Briar giggles as Mohinder gives her his sweetest smile and shakes her hand.
“No I’m a Professor of Genetics at the university,” he says nicely. “I have to have my excitement by living vicariously through Matthew.”
“Oh! A professor!” she says, wide-eyed. “But you’re so young!”
“I received my doctorates a number of years ago,” he says modestly. “In genetics and biology.”
“Show-off,” I say mildly.
“Everyone else is a police officer,” he protests. “You’re all so brave and thrilling, and you all have uniforms or at least guns. I feel like the one little boy at the fancy dress party without fancy dress,” he sulks.
Mrs Briar takes his arm. “You’re far more exciting than I am... oh, is it doctor or professor Suresh?”
“Oh, Mohinder, please,” he says as she pulls him away.
“Glad to see you here tonight, Parkman,” Captain Briar says.
“Thank you sir.” I toy with my half drunk glass of wine.
“Boyfriend dragged you here, huh?” he asks wryly.
I can feel myself going red. “That obvious?”
He actually laughs and then sips his wine. “Look Parkman, I get why you’re wary. If I’d had that shit at your last station I’d be wary too. But you’ve been here six months. I can’t promise none of guys are uncomfortable; hell I can’t even promise they don’t twitch when Rodriguez walks in the room, or make comments when the female officers are around. If you get any hassle though I will come down on them like a ton of bricks.”
“Thank you, Sir,” I say surprised.
He nods and takes another sip of wine. “You’re not a whiner. You keep your head down and you don’t make waves. I respect that.”
“Uh, thank you sir.”
“But you need to show your face a little more. People feel they don’t know you. Your fellow officers need to feel they can rely on you. Understand son?”
“Yes sir,” I agree.
There’s a horrible sound; the all too familiar slight thump, ‘oof’ of expelled air, and shoe scrape on the floor, as someone shoves someone else. I look over as people start to flock around.
“God damn it,” Briar says sharply. “There’s always one.”
It’s Dale Henderson getting into it with Lila, except that’s not it; she’s just in the way, standing between him and Mohinder. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I jog over there just in time to here Henderson holding forth.
“...not natural, it’s just not natural, that’s all I’m saying.”
“Really? Are you in favour of an all natural existence?” Mohinder asks, he’s using his ‘debating’ voice and my heart sinks.
“Yeah, I’m big on nature,” Henderson slurs.
“Because I can’t help noticing that you’re wearing clothes; do you think those are natural? Is there an ‘unflattering trousers’ tree somewhere in the wild? What about the distilled alcohol, do you think that’s just happens?”
“Well...”
“Did you walk here?” Mohinder steamrollers. “Of course you realise that cars and planes and boats are all manmade constructs and therefore unnatural.”
“Shut up,” Henderson growls.
“Mohinder, that’s enough,” I say quietly.
“Is it?” he asks. “I haven’t even touched on medicine or housing.” He turns back to Henderson. “Of course you’ll have to stop shaving. On the plus side then you’ll fit in with the rest of the cavemen.”
Henderson lunges forward with half a dozen people trying to pull him back.
I duck in front of Mohinder and push him back. “What part of ‘enough’ don’t you get?”
“The part where I have to pander to someone else’s prejudices,” he retorts. “The part where you have to. It isn’t right too...”
There’s a sort of gasp and then swearing, so quickly it barely registers. Mohinder’s eyes go huge and someone spins me by the shoulder. Henderson’s fist so close, Mohinder pulling me back by my belt, and I’m throwing a punch at Henderson.
“Well congratulations, everyone knows they can rely on you to get stuck in if there’s a scuffle,” Captain Briar says sourly, looking down at me.
“Sorry sir,” I say quietly, around my fat lip.
“It’s fine son, you were defending yourself. Do you want to make a complaint?” he asks.
“No sir.”
He slaps my shoulder as he walks away. A lot of them are doing that as they walk past; patting my shoulder, punching my arm. Being this popular is going to mark me black and blue.
Mohinder scurries over with something wrapped in a teacloth. He ducks down without meeting my eyes and gently presses it to my mouth.
“We better get you home,” he says softly.
I put my hand over his and he pulls it away quickly; leaving me holding the teacloth wrapped around what feels like a bag of frozen peas.
I’m a little shaken up still, I haven’t been in an actual honest-to-goodness fist fight in years, so I follow Mohinder out and to the car. He’s very quiet and he doesn’t want to look at me.
“You okay?” I ask, as I struggle to do my seatbelt.
“Yeah,” he says quietly, leaning over to do it for me.
“You don’t sound okay.”
“Can we do this back home?” he begs. “If I get upset now I won’t be able to drive properly and then we’ll have to call a cab and that means waiting and on a weekend too and...”
“Okay,” I say quickly. “If that’s what you want.”
His mouth briefly spasms into something nothing like a smile and everything like a grimace.
“Thank you.”
It’s not really late but, after I bin the frozen peas, I head upstairs anyway and he trudges after me. He slumps onto the bed, head bowed, and fingers playing with the bedcovers. If it was Molly doing that I’d call bullshit, but it’s not, it’s Mohinder and it wouldn’t occur to him to play up to me like that.
“Hey.” I sit on the bed and take his hand.
Mohinder leans against me. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I got you into a fight and you didn’t even want to go to the party but I made you go and now you’re going to be in trouble and it’s my fault and I’m really sorry and...”
“It’s okay. I shouldn’t have let it happen.”
“You’re not my father, Matthew,” he says softly, “and I’m not a child. You don’t have to protect me.” He tips his head onto my shoulder. “What did the captain say? Are you suspended?”
“No, but I’m going to make sure I’m on my best behaviour for a while.” I turn my head and kiss his cheek. “You’re right. You’re not a kid and if some homophobe has a go at you then you have every right to rip them to shreds.”
“Even if it gets me beaten up?” he asks.
“Fuck that.” I tip him back onto the bed and climb over him. “You’re far too pretty to get beaten up.”
“You look like a duck,” he tries to laugh.
“Hey, what’s this,” I say, trying to dry his eyes. “No blubbing.”
Mohinder manages to poke his tongue at me while pushing away my hands and wiping his face and eyes.
“You could’ve been really hurt.”
“Really hurt? I look like a duck!” I pull off my shirt and undress him.
“Why do you put up with me?” he asks softly. “I must embarrass you, I get you into trouble, I make all kind of mistakes. It’s horrible when I see that look on your face or Molly’s face and I know I’ve done something but I don’t know what!”
“I don’t ‘put up’ with you Mohinder,” I promise. I wrap my arms around his waist and kiss him softly on the lips. “I love you, all of you. I don’t love you despite that stuff. It’s part of you. You wouldn’t be you if you were different.”
He pushes down my trousers and then wraps his legs around my waist. “You don’t have to make me feel better.”
“It’s the truth.”
Mohinder half twists and reaches into the bedside table drawer to pull out lube. “I love you,” he says handing me the lube and sliding his arms around my neck. “I’m sorry I got you punched in the face.”
I kiss him softly and reach down to prepare him. “Stop that, okay? It’s done.”
It takes him a while to relax. Kiss down his neck, his chest, his stomach. He squirms underneath me; his erection pressing against me, and his nails rake down my back.
He murmurs happily as I enter him and bites at my shoulder and neck.
He curls up on my chest just staring into my face.
“What?” I ask, stroking his hair.
“Nothing.”
“What?” I ask again, smiling.
Mohinder shrugs and trails his fingers over my stomach. “I just like looking at you.”
“My view is better.”
“That’s a matter of opinion,” he says, reaching up to touch my fat lip. “Even with that.”
“You feeling okay?” I ask quietly.
“Sometimes I just feel down,” he says with a shrug. “Normally with good reason.”
I wrap my arms around his waist and he smiles at me. “Are you feeling down now?”
“No.” He leans up to kiss me. “Now I’m all warm and snugly and revoltingly fuzzy. It’s really quite disgusting.”
“Yuck,” I agree, returning his kiss.
The End
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no subject
Date: 2009-05-27 09:01 pm (UTC)I love their good-natured banter, and how they just seem to fit together so perfectly, even with Mohinder's foibles and Matt's insecurities. I even love Molly in this, and normally I can take or leave her, but the way she accepts them both is just lovely. I loved the thing with the vibrator too, and the fact she can confide in Mohinder about those sorts of things, and that Mohinder is always causing mischief.
Really, this is such a wonderful series! :D
no subject
Date: 2009-05-28 04:58 am (UTC)I try and keep the balance between them reasonable so it's not all Matt having to deal with Mohinder's quirks or Mohinder being upset by Matt's insecurities. I want them and the reader to be having a warm, fuzzy time, hehe :)
Thanks for writing!
no subject
Date: 2009-05-27 09:45 pm (UTC)And Matt's reluctance to socialize was actually having a negative effect on his career. The opposite of what he'd intended it to.
As usual great work.
no subject
Date: 2009-05-28 05:01 am (UTC)Thanks hon! Glad you enjoyed it :)
no subject
Date: 2009-05-28 04:51 am (UTC)Your Mohinder in this series is priceless. I love all his manuals and how he is hopelessly head over heels in love with Matt. And how he tries sooo hard to please Matt. But all he has to do is blink his “big brown eyes” at Matt to get a rise out of him. *sigh* I love this world you created, it makes me happy :)
And MATHS!?!?! You English people are weird … and wrong ;)
no subject
Date: 2009-05-28 05:07 am (UTC)Yeah, I do like Mohinder in this :) He's sweet in his own dippy way. I have a real soft spot for couples in fiction who go OTT trying to make the other partner happy.
And MATHS!?!?! You English people are weird … and wrong ;)
And it's our language, besides, in science you don't do 'physic' do you? :p