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Entry tags:
Fiction: Methods of Communication
Name: Methods of Communication
Pairing: Matt/Nathan
Genre: Slash, Waff
Rating: PG/R
Warnings: Adult language and implied sexual situations
Note: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kimmi_watch who wanted ‘Matt brings out the fun snarky side of Nathan (let's pretend that the whole death thing never happened) an opposites attract kind of thing.’
Word count: 1557
At first, it makes Molly nervous. Her parents never disagreed about anything. At least, if they did then, they did it somewhere else, where Molly couldn’t hear them.
She blames the second, treacherous, thought on Matt and Nathan. On the fact that when they are talking nothing is said without being questioned, or made fun of, or looked at from all angles, like someone looking for a soft spot in a melon. And that was arguing! Answering back was arguing, and arguing was wrong. Except arguing caused that nasty, hot prickle in her stomach and she didn’t get that when Matt and Nathan were talking; not even when Matt would finally go “and the horse you rode in on” and march off.
So, really, it doesn’t feel like arguing.
They don’t yell and they don’t get those tight, hissing voices that adults sometimes get when they’re really, really, mad. So it doesn’t sound like arguing either.
Plus, they don’t fold their arms, or put their hands on their hips. Mostly they bump each other accidentally-on-purpose or flick each other with their fingers, or sometimes throw pillows or cushions, and one time a chocolate pudding. So it doesn’t really look like arguing either.
She supposes it must be a grown-up thing, then.
‘Will I see you tonight?’ Matt asks as Nathan heads for the door.
‘I don’t know,’ Nathan answers, stopping to kiss the other man on the cheek. ‘Are you planning on going blind by then?’
‘Only if you wear that horrible red tie again,’ Matt says cheerfully.
‘It’s self defence against that god-awful brown jacket of yours,’ Nathan retorts, pausing to ruffle Molly’s hair. ‘See you later, Molly,’ he says, winking to her as he leaves.
‘I like Nathan’s red tie,’ Molly says cautiously.
‘Oh yeah?’ Matt asks, fetching her school bag.
‘Yeah,’ she says, taking his hand as they leave the apartment. ‘And I don’t think it’s fair hiding it. Not fair or nice, Matt,’ she says primly.
Matt looks at her with a baffled expression. ‘I didn’t hide Nathan’s red tie.’
Molly climbs into the car, pulls on her seatbelt, and folds her arms. ‘Then why was it stuffed down the back of the sofa?’
‘I have no idea, I haven’t seen it since... ohh. Uh. We were... messing around the other night, in the lounge, the other night when you were visiting your grandma. Nathan must’ve taken it off then and it got... pushed down the back of the cushions,’ Matt says quickly. ‘Just messing around.’
‘Huh!’
It’s Nathan that picks her up from school most nights, and she’s definitely getting into the flying.
‘Nathan,’ she asks, as they land on the fire escape. ‘When do you go flying with Matt? Can I come?’
‘I don’t really go flying with Matt,’ Nathan says, helping her into the apartment. ‘Do you want some juice and a cheese sandwich?’
‘Yes please, orange,’ Molly says, flopping down onto a kitchen chair. ‘But what about the riding?’
‘Riding?’ Nathan asks absently, handing her a glass of juice and making a sandwich.
‘Yeah, I heard you say on the phone that Matt had been riding you like a rodeo horse,’ Molly says, taking a sip of juice.
Nathan nearly cuts off his thumb.
‘You shouldn’t listen to other people’s conversations,’ he says quickly, finishing her sandwich.
‘But...’
‘No buts! Now eat your juice and then do your homework. There’s a good girl.’
‘Matt lets me ask questions,’ she says, scowling at him.
‘You want to tell Matt you’ve been eavesdropping, you little fink?’ Nathan asks, flicking her nose.
Molly pulls a face. ‘I guess not.’
‘You guess right.’
‘I don’t know why you ask if you’re going to see me,’ she hears Nathan say in the kitchen. She’s happily planted right in the middle of the sofa with the TV remote to hand and one ear listening for the adults. She turns the television down slightly to catch Matt’s reply.
‘Because I like to know, doofus.’
‘You want to know the answer to the question you’ve asked a hundred times before? The answer’s been yes every single time for the past eight months. Frankly, I’m starting to doubt your ability to spot a pattern.’
‘Maybe I just like hearing you say it,’ Matt says, too sweetly.
‘Perhaps I should record it to tape for you.’
‘Tape? Come into the year 2010... it’s not scary and we have awesome things, like digital recorders!’ Matt laughs. ‘Maybe you should record it for me.’
‘Perhaps I will then,’ Nathan retorts.
‘Good!’
‘Good!’
There is a long pause in which Molly thinks she hears a very soft sort of murmur, and then a quiet sigh.
‘I’m here every night,’ Nathan says, sounding completely different, more serious sort of, and gentler.
‘Yeah, I know,’ Matt says quietly. ‘But... things can change.’
Nathan snorts, Molly would recognise the sound anywhere. ‘Overnight?’
‘No, but I have a history of not reading the signs when it’s happening.’
‘I’m not Janice,’ Nathan points out.
‘No shit, Sherlock.’
Huh, Janice. Molly does not approve of Janice. When she visits with Matty she’s weird with Nathan, talks to Molly like she’s a kid, and she’s got stupid hair.
‘Children need stability,’ Nathan says.
‘Okay,’ Matt agrees, sounding confused. ‘Random, but true.’
Molly gets up and tiptoes over to the kitchen. They’re standing against the kitchen worktops, standing real close together, and their hands are almost touching.
‘Continually asking if you’re going to see me isn’t the way to make Molly feel secure,’ Nathan says calmly.
‘Look whatever the problem is, don’t hide behind Molly,’ Matt says firmly.
Molly scowls but doesn’t say anything.
‘I’m not hiding; I’m just saying that... I’m here all the time. I pick her up from school. I might not be her parent but that doesn’t mean I’m nothing, and making her uncertain whether I’ll be around isn’t helpful,’ Nathan argues, and this does feel like an argument. The hot prickle is making her feel sick.
‘Are you serious?’ Matt asks, his voice rising. ‘Don’t you think Molly wants to know if you’re going to be here or not?’
‘She’s not the one asking!’ Nathan snaps. And now it sounds like an argument.
‘Of course she’s not asking, she’s a kid!’
‘She’s not asking because she’s not the one who’s so damn insecure!’ Nathan yells, really yells. ‘Jesus Christ, Parkman! Do you know how it feels to be treated like a visitor when I’m here every day and every night?’
‘Then fucking move in, you asshole!’
‘I will!’
‘Fine!’ Matt yells, up in Nathan’s face.
‘Fine!’ Nathan snarls back, and it really, really looks like an argument.
But it doesn’t feel like one anymore.
Matt touches Nathan’s hand. ‘This isn’t going to make a very romantic story to tell all the kids.’
‘Romance schmomance,’ Nathan says with a shrug. ‘Although where my boys are going to sleep when they visit, I have no idea.’
‘We need a bigger place anyway.’
‘In New York? You can barely afford this shoebox,’ Nathan retorts.
‘Well, I was thinking my newly live-in boyfriend would pay and I’d make it up to him in sex,’ Matt says, waggling his eyebrows.
‘And by “boyfriend”, you mean “sugar-daddy,” naturally?’ Nathan asks, smiling.
‘If the shoebox fits,’ Matt laughs.
‘I expect a lot of sugar to be your daddy,’ Nathan says in a growly sort of voice.
‘You owe me five dollars,’ Molly announces, walking into the kitchen.
They both freeze.
‘What’s that sweetheart?’ Matt asks after a long moment.
‘You owe me five dollars, Matt,’ she says firmly, folding her arms across her chest. ‘You said the “F” word that’s three dollars, and the “S” word that’s a dollar, and “JC”, that’s a dollar too. That’s five dollars.’
Nathan narrows his eyes. ‘And you, young lady, you were listening to a private, adult conversation. That’s ten dollars!’
‘Nuh huh!’
‘Oh it is!’ Matt laughs. ‘I think we can take it in tickles though.’
‘Oh yes,’ Nathan agrees and prowls forward.
‘No!’ Molly squeals, and flees with Matt and Nathan in hot pursuit.
The new apartment is weird. It’s too big and it doesn’t smell right, and on the weekends Nathan’s cootie infested kids come over. The boys, anyway, Claire comes around to babysit sometimes, but Molly doesn’t like boys, and Claire doesn’t like ponies, so they just watch TV.
‘What’s my dad doing with your dad?’ Monty asks suspiciously, watching Matt and Nathan wrestling on the sofa.
‘Play fighting,’ Molly says with a shrug. ‘Matt’s not my dad. He just looks after me and... uh. It doesn’t matter.’
‘Grown-ups don’t play fight!’ Simon protests.
Molly rolls her eyes. ‘Hello, what do you think they’re doing?’
‘Why’re they fighting?’ Monty asks.
‘They’re not really fighting,’ Molly says. ‘They’re messing about. They mess about all the time.’
‘Why?’
‘Because they’re weird,’ Molly says firmly.
On the sofa, Matt sits on Nathan and finally looks up. ‘Uh oh,’ he mutters, and quickly gets up. ‘Hey, kids, we thought you were all still down at Mrs Dudley’s.’
‘It’s too late,’ Molly says, folding her arms. ‘We already know you’re weird.’
‘Yeah,’ Nathan agrees, sitting up and smoothing his hair. ‘That’s us. Weird-ass grown-ups.’
‘You owe us half a dollar each!’ Monty says triumphantly.
Nathan rolls his eyes at Matt, and gets out his wallet.
The End
Pairing: Matt/Nathan
Genre: Slash, Waff
Rating: PG/R
Warnings: Adult language and implied sexual situations
Note: For
kimmi_watch who wanted ‘Matt brings out the fun snarky side of Nathan (let's pretend that the whole death thing never happened) an opposites attract kind of thing.’ Word count: 1557
At first, it makes Molly nervous. Her parents never disagreed about anything. At least, if they did then, they did it somewhere else, where Molly couldn’t hear them.
She blames the second, treacherous, thought on Matt and Nathan. On the fact that when they are talking nothing is said without being questioned, or made fun of, or looked at from all angles, like someone looking for a soft spot in a melon. And that was arguing! Answering back was arguing, and arguing was wrong. Except arguing caused that nasty, hot prickle in her stomach and she didn’t get that when Matt and Nathan were talking; not even when Matt would finally go “and the horse you rode in on” and march off.
So, really, it doesn’t feel like arguing.
They don’t yell and they don’t get those tight, hissing voices that adults sometimes get when they’re really, really, mad. So it doesn’t sound like arguing either.
Plus, they don’t fold their arms, or put their hands on their hips. Mostly they bump each other accidentally-on-purpose or flick each other with their fingers, or sometimes throw pillows or cushions, and one time a chocolate pudding. So it doesn’t really look like arguing either.
She supposes it must be a grown-up thing, then.
‘Will I see you tonight?’ Matt asks as Nathan heads for the door.
‘I don’t know,’ Nathan answers, stopping to kiss the other man on the cheek. ‘Are you planning on going blind by then?’
‘Only if you wear that horrible red tie again,’ Matt says cheerfully.
‘It’s self defence against that god-awful brown jacket of yours,’ Nathan retorts, pausing to ruffle Molly’s hair. ‘See you later, Molly,’ he says, winking to her as he leaves.
‘I like Nathan’s red tie,’ Molly says cautiously.
‘Oh yeah?’ Matt asks, fetching her school bag.
‘Yeah,’ she says, taking his hand as they leave the apartment. ‘And I don’t think it’s fair hiding it. Not fair or nice, Matt,’ she says primly.
Matt looks at her with a baffled expression. ‘I didn’t hide Nathan’s red tie.’
Molly climbs into the car, pulls on her seatbelt, and folds her arms. ‘Then why was it stuffed down the back of the sofa?’
‘I have no idea, I haven’t seen it since... ohh. Uh. We were... messing around the other night, in the lounge, the other night when you were visiting your grandma. Nathan must’ve taken it off then and it got... pushed down the back of the cushions,’ Matt says quickly. ‘Just messing around.’
‘Huh!’
It’s Nathan that picks her up from school most nights, and she’s definitely getting into the flying.
‘Nathan,’ she asks, as they land on the fire escape. ‘When do you go flying with Matt? Can I come?’
‘I don’t really go flying with Matt,’ Nathan says, helping her into the apartment. ‘Do you want some juice and a cheese sandwich?’
‘Yes please, orange,’ Molly says, flopping down onto a kitchen chair. ‘But what about the riding?’
‘Riding?’ Nathan asks absently, handing her a glass of juice and making a sandwich.
‘Yeah, I heard you say on the phone that Matt had been riding you like a rodeo horse,’ Molly says, taking a sip of juice.
Nathan nearly cuts off his thumb.
‘You shouldn’t listen to other people’s conversations,’ he says quickly, finishing her sandwich.
‘But...’
‘No buts! Now eat your juice and then do your homework. There’s a good girl.’
‘Matt lets me ask questions,’ she says, scowling at him.
‘You want to tell Matt you’ve been eavesdropping, you little fink?’ Nathan asks, flicking her nose.
Molly pulls a face. ‘I guess not.’
‘You guess right.’
‘I don’t know why you ask if you’re going to see me,’ she hears Nathan say in the kitchen. She’s happily planted right in the middle of the sofa with the TV remote to hand and one ear listening for the adults. She turns the television down slightly to catch Matt’s reply.
‘Because I like to know, doofus.’
‘You want to know the answer to the question you’ve asked a hundred times before? The answer’s been yes every single time for the past eight months. Frankly, I’m starting to doubt your ability to spot a pattern.’
‘Maybe I just like hearing you say it,’ Matt says, too sweetly.
‘Perhaps I should record it to tape for you.’
‘Tape? Come into the year 2010... it’s not scary and we have awesome things, like digital recorders!’ Matt laughs. ‘Maybe you should record it for me.’
‘Perhaps I will then,’ Nathan retorts.
‘Good!’
‘Good!’
There is a long pause in which Molly thinks she hears a very soft sort of murmur, and then a quiet sigh.
‘I’m here every night,’ Nathan says, sounding completely different, more serious sort of, and gentler.
‘Yeah, I know,’ Matt says quietly. ‘But... things can change.’
Nathan snorts, Molly would recognise the sound anywhere. ‘Overnight?’
‘No, but I have a history of not reading the signs when it’s happening.’
‘I’m not Janice,’ Nathan points out.
‘No shit, Sherlock.’
Huh, Janice. Molly does not approve of Janice. When she visits with Matty she’s weird with Nathan, talks to Molly like she’s a kid, and she’s got stupid hair.
‘Children need stability,’ Nathan says.
‘Okay,’ Matt agrees, sounding confused. ‘Random, but true.’
Molly gets up and tiptoes over to the kitchen. They’re standing against the kitchen worktops, standing real close together, and their hands are almost touching.
‘Continually asking if you’re going to see me isn’t the way to make Molly feel secure,’ Nathan says calmly.
‘Look whatever the problem is, don’t hide behind Molly,’ Matt says firmly.
Molly scowls but doesn’t say anything.
‘I’m not hiding; I’m just saying that... I’m here all the time. I pick her up from school. I might not be her parent but that doesn’t mean I’m nothing, and making her uncertain whether I’ll be around isn’t helpful,’ Nathan argues, and this does feel like an argument. The hot prickle is making her feel sick.
‘Are you serious?’ Matt asks, his voice rising. ‘Don’t you think Molly wants to know if you’re going to be here or not?’
‘She’s not the one asking!’ Nathan snaps. And now it sounds like an argument.
‘Of course she’s not asking, she’s a kid!’
‘She’s not asking because she’s not the one who’s so damn insecure!’ Nathan yells, really yells. ‘Jesus Christ, Parkman! Do you know how it feels to be treated like a visitor when I’m here every day and every night?’
‘Then fucking move in, you asshole!’
‘I will!’
‘Fine!’ Matt yells, up in Nathan’s face.
‘Fine!’ Nathan snarls back, and it really, really looks like an argument.
But it doesn’t feel like one anymore.
Matt touches Nathan’s hand. ‘This isn’t going to make a very romantic story to tell all the kids.’
‘Romance schmomance,’ Nathan says with a shrug. ‘Although where my boys are going to sleep when they visit, I have no idea.’
‘We need a bigger place anyway.’
‘In New York? You can barely afford this shoebox,’ Nathan retorts.
‘Well, I was thinking my newly live-in boyfriend would pay and I’d make it up to him in sex,’ Matt says, waggling his eyebrows.
‘And by “boyfriend”, you mean “sugar-daddy,” naturally?’ Nathan asks, smiling.
‘If the shoebox fits,’ Matt laughs.
‘I expect a lot of sugar to be your daddy,’ Nathan says in a growly sort of voice.
‘You owe me five dollars,’ Molly announces, walking into the kitchen.
They both freeze.
‘What’s that sweetheart?’ Matt asks after a long moment.
‘You owe me five dollars, Matt,’ she says firmly, folding her arms across her chest. ‘You said the “F” word that’s three dollars, and the “S” word that’s a dollar, and “JC”, that’s a dollar too. That’s five dollars.’
Nathan narrows his eyes. ‘And you, young lady, you were listening to a private, adult conversation. That’s ten dollars!’
‘Nuh huh!’
‘Oh it is!’ Matt laughs. ‘I think we can take it in tickles though.’
‘Oh yes,’ Nathan agrees and prowls forward.
‘No!’ Molly squeals, and flees with Matt and Nathan in hot pursuit.
The new apartment is weird. It’s too big and it doesn’t smell right, and on the weekends Nathan’s cootie infested kids come over. The boys, anyway, Claire comes around to babysit sometimes, but Molly doesn’t like boys, and Claire doesn’t like ponies, so they just watch TV.
‘What’s my dad doing with your dad?’ Monty asks suspiciously, watching Matt and Nathan wrestling on the sofa.
‘Play fighting,’ Molly says with a shrug. ‘Matt’s not my dad. He just looks after me and... uh. It doesn’t matter.’
‘Grown-ups don’t play fight!’ Simon protests.
Molly rolls her eyes. ‘Hello, what do you think they’re doing?’
‘Why’re they fighting?’ Monty asks.
‘They’re not really fighting,’ Molly says. ‘They’re messing about. They mess about all the time.’
‘Why?’
‘Because they’re weird,’ Molly says firmly.
On the sofa, Matt sits on Nathan and finally looks up. ‘Uh oh,’ he mutters, and quickly gets up. ‘Hey, kids, we thought you were all still down at Mrs Dudley’s.’
‘It’s too late,’ Molly says, folding her arms. ‘We already know you’re weird.’
‘Yeah,’ Nathan agrees, sitting up and smoothing his hair. ‘That’s us. Weird-ass grown-ups.’
‘You owe us half a dollar each!’ Monty says triumphantly.
Nathan rolls his eyes at Matt, and gets out his wallet.
The End