Fiction: Lesser Evils and Other Lies
Jan. 8th, 2011 08:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kethniName: Lesser Evils and Other Lies
Pairing: Matt/Mohinder
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Adult language and scenes of a sexual nature. Violence and the imminent apocalypse.
Word Count: 8273
Authors Note: Huge thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jaune_chat for the great prompt ‘In the future, you have to have sex to save your soul. An extremely prevalent virus destroys the part of the brain that can comprehend right from wrong, unless the body is flooded with endorphins regularly. Matt knows that unless he shows the police academy that he has a steady and available partner, they'll never let him in the door. Up until now he's been visiting a brothel to keep himself safe. How can he prove to the academy he has a steady partner, even if he knows all the prostitutes by name?’
Matt licks his lips and hunches his shoulders as he makes his way down the darkened alleyway. There are public health fliers peeling off the walls and used condoms underfoot. There are nicer places than this although none that Matt can afford. An irony of the epidemic is that prostitutes have vanished from the streets and either into military or private brothels. Working on the streets was dangerous enough before the epidemic ravaged the country. They’re all infected, everyone in the country is at least in stage one, and so far the only way they’ve found to stave off the full-blown disease is to regularly flood the system with endorphins. Heavy exercise or masturbation will extend things by a few hours but the only guaranteed method to stay healthy is intercourse every 72 hours. So many street corner prostitutes were kidnapped by gangs, rapists, and psychopaths that the government had to legalise brothels just to stem the tide.
Most single people, most average single people, quickly arranged with particular friends to keep each other healthy. Some of the more modern religious groups announced that provided the sex was purely medicinal then it wasn’t a sin, even outside of marriage. After all those living and working too far from home to return every couple of days had to do something. Initially the situation was awkward and embarrassing for everyone but people quickly adapted as people always do. But Matt didn’t have many friends and in desperation he’d end up at the cheapest, clean brothel around. The area is terrible and time with the prostitutes is sold in only fifteen or thirty minute slots but the management are decent and the prostitutes are clean and relatively sociable.
Matt pays up front at the desk and glances at the board showing which of the prostitutes are available. Since the appointments are so short it’s always touch and go who will be available. Not that Matt’s in any position to pick and choose any more then he’d pick and choose which nurse gives him his vaccinations or which assistant will serve him at the supermarket.
‘I’ve got… Adam ready? He’s in room five,’ suggests the receptionist.
‘Great, thanks.’
Matt’s mind is buzzing as he makes his way to the room. He’s got his police academy interview in less than a month and although he knows he’s passed all his exams he’s dreading it. He’s dreading it because he knows under the emergency laws he has to prove he has a regular and committed sexual partner in order to join the academy. If any other disease were endemic then things would be different but endorphinemia doesn’t kill; nothing so simple. Instead it causes irreparable brain damage, destroying the parts of the brain responsible for moral judgement. Every victim of full blown endorphinemia become psychopathic, without conscience or morality, but not without a sense of self protection. A police force which doesn’t insist on its members being into committed relationships could very easily become a police force of thieves, rapists, and murderers.
Adam is brushing his teeth as Matt enters the room. He holds up a hand as Matt shuts the door behind him. Adam spits into the sink and then swills his mouth out with water.
‘Sorry about that,’ Adam says, cheerily as he walks across the room. ‘They’ve introduced a new hygiene standard for brothels. We just got a copy this morning.’
‘Oh, fun,’ Matt says, rolling his eyes.
‘They’ve sucked most of the fun out this job,’ Adam grumbles. ‘I tell you some days I feel like I work a conveyor belt.’ He throws himself onto the bed and gives Matt a bright smile. ‘But it’s always fun seeing you.’
‘You’re a liar,’ Matt says wryly.
‘It used to be my job.’ Adam waves a hand. ‘It used to be a case of making the client feel better about himself and fulfilling some kind of fantasy. Now we’re downmarket nurses for God’s sake, dishing out medicine to the lepers.’
‘Well you’re really fulfilling my fantasies right now,’ Matt says, taking off his clothes. ‘Bitching and moaning is very sexy.’
Adam waggles his feet and pouts at Matt. ‘I don’t think of you as a client, Matt, I think of you as…’
‘An acquaintance?’ Matt suggests with a smile as he climbs onto the bed.
‘Harsh, very harsh,’ Adam says lightly. ‘You’re looking a little distracted.’
‘I’m distracted? You’re the one going on about what a crappy job you have.’
Adam smiles lazily. ‘Poor baby, let me get rid of your grumps for you.’
‘Have you got a date for starting at the academy?’ Adam asks as Matt quickly showers.
‘Putting the cart before the horse,’ Matt calls back. ‘If I can’t prove I’m in a committed relationship I won’t be going anywhere.’
‘I didn’t know you had a boyfriend. Out of town a lot is he?’
Matt steps out of the shower, rubbing himself down with a towel. ‘I don’t,’ he says sheepishly. ‘That’s pretty much the problem. I don’t even have a casual boyfriend or any kind of girlfriend.’
Adam gets up and heads for the shower. ‘A good looking lad like you?’
‘Yeah, well.’ Matt has never been a ‘smooth’ sort of man; he’s never found it easy to approach people he finds attractive and he’s terrible at expressing how he feels, let alone articulating how other people expect him to feel. ‘It’s nigh on impossible now isn’t it? Everyone’s so tense of meeting new people. There’s no telling someone with full blown endorphinemia until they’re trying to cut your heart out and eat it.’
‘That’s a pickle all right,’ Adam agrees. ‘Let me have a think about. I’ll see what I can work out,’ he says gravely.
Matt lives alone since his mother died. He finds the house too big and too quiet now but it’s defensible and it’s cheap enough to run. Too many of the general population have succumbed to the full blown disease to take any chances with security. Too many people previously of good character have lost the ability to tell right from wrong. Matt went into his local store the previous week and a sulking teenage girl had stabbed in the arm when he refused to sell her liquor. Stabbed him, picked up the bottle, and sauntered out of the store as those it were the most normal thing in the world. Matt had let her go and concentrated on the bleeding man. The chances were she’d be back sooner or later, after all, in her mind she had done anything that was even surprising, let alone wrong.
He works delivering pizza, which is another job that’s become more perilous of late. They have to go out in threes just to offset the would-be robbers who fancy a pizza and can’t be bothered ordering their own. Of course as soon as people are diagnosed with the full-blown disease they’re hauled off… somewhere. But it’s impossible to check everyone every week. Some of the big multinationals have private medical staff that regularly checks the employees as do the armed forces and the various police forces. The general public though have to worry about themselves. Matt does worry, worries constantly, as the idea of losing his sense of right and wrong terrifies him. The worst part, as far as he can see, is that people don’t even realise it’s happened to them. They don’t feel any different.
Matt’s always wanted to be a cop. He’s had to work his fingers to the bone to get through school and when his mom was diagnosed with cancer he had to step up and earn money as well. He’s got one shot at getting into the academy and he feels like he’s sliding irresistibly towards the reject door. He should be doing something, coming up with some plan, but he feels paralyzed with indecision. How can he possibly find someone and form any kind of relationship in less than a month?
Matt shrinks a little when Elle the receptionist at the brothel announces that Mohinder is available. The other man is very attractive, probably the most attractive man in the place, but he’s also the least approachable. Adam, DL, and the others are generally friendly and good-natured but Mohinder is distinctly haughty and standoffish. He rarely says much and responds to Matt’s attempts at pleasantries with a cold stare or a bitingly sarcastic comment.
‘You know I don’t… I don’t mind waiting a little bit,’ Matt says quickly.
‘But he’s available now,’ the Elle says, clearly confused.
‘I know but, you know, I don’t mind waiting for someone else.’
She gives him a baffled look. ‘Mohinder is one of our most popular employees. We get people asking for him particularly.’
‘Great! So, I’ll wait and someone else can see Mohinder,’ Matt says quickly.
She stares at him for a couple of seconds. ‘I don’t think… I’m going to have to ask…’
Matt smiles weakly. He really didn’t think it would be such a big issue. It’s not as if he’s trying to jump the line or demand a particular person.
Mohinder is lying on the bed when Elle rushes in. He glances up briefly from the paper he’s reading and then returns to it. ‘What’s wrong with you?’ he asks.
‘Um, so, you know that client, Matt, the one who wants to be cop? The one who always comes in this kind of time?’
Mohinder raises an eyebrow. ‘Yes, the client whom I gave you fifty dollars to send my way. If he’s here then send him right in. It’s not necessary to come running in to tell me he’s here.’
Elle rolls her eyes. ‘Yeah, that’s great Mohinder, only problem is he doesn’t want to see you.’
Mohinder frowns and then puts the paper aside. ‘What?’
‘I told him that you were ready and he said he didn’t mind waiting. He’s real keen on waiting to see someone else instead. I said I’d have to check.’
Mohinder sets his jaw. ‘Do you normally let clients pick and choose?’
‘No, duh, it’s first come, first served. Excepting when people pay me a little extra.’
‘Has he done that?’ Mohinder asks in a voice so cold it practically has icicles.
‘No, I mean, not yet.’
Mohinder raises an eyebrow. ‘Then all you have to do is tell him that it’s first come, first served.’
‘Well okay but what if he offers me money?’ she asks.
‘I beat him to it,’ Mohinder almost growls. ‘And if you agree to assign him to someone else then I’ll take my money back with extreme prejudice.’
‘Geez! Keep your panties on. If this is how you talk to him them I can see why he doesn’t want you!’
Matt briefly, very briefly, considers saying he’ll come back later but he’s already embarrassed himself enough. He certainly doesn’t want to make an issue out of it.
‘Oh, okay,’ he says, smiling weakly.
‘It’s room 3,’ Elle says, leaning over the desk so far her feet leave the floor. ‘Down there, okay?’
Matt runs his finger around the collar of his t-shirt before he raps on the door with his knuckles.
There’s a long pause before the door is opened and Mohinder, clad only in boxer shorts, frowns at him.
‘Since when do you knock?’
Matt’s cheek twitches. ‘Can we get on with this?’ he asks, pushing past Mohinder.
‘If you like,’ Mohinder says, surprised. He shuts the door and throws himself onto the bed. ‘Feel free to babble.’
Matt grinds his teeth and undresses silently.
‘God knows you normally do,’ Mohinder adds.
Matt reddens and looks away. ‘Forget it.’ He starts gathering his clothes together.
‘What?’
‘I’ll wait until someone else is available.’
Mohinder sits up and frowns. ‘Someone got up on the wrong side of bed.’
‘I don’t come here for sniping and abuse!’
‘Oh and where do you go?’ Mohinder asks tartly.
Matt shakes his head and continues dressing. ‘This is why I didn’t want to see you,’ he says, and then winces.
‘Yes,’ Mohinder says coldly. ‘Elle said. Rather unfortunate when I’m quite willing to help you with your little problem.’
‘There are other professionals,’ Matt says sharply. ‘And it’s not as if you’re doing me a damn favour!’
‘I didn’t mean that,’ Mohinder says. ‘I meant your other problem. Adam says that you need to pretend you have a committed partner in order to get into the police academy.’
Matt shakes his head but sits at the bottom of the bed. ‘I need a partner.’
‘Well you’re not going to get one within a month are you?’
‘Are we doing this or not?’
Mohinder shrugs and rolls onto his front.
Matt stares at the straight, narrow back with its fine, dark skin. Mohinder never ceases to make him feel stupid and slow. Although Matt has a kind of grim determination he’s never been very confident and he’s sure he’s too thin-skinned. When Mohinder throws around his thoughtlessly sharp comments they cut Matt to the quick.
Matt sighs as he stands up and takes off his clothes again. Being snapped at and made to feel like an idiot by someone you’re dating is one thing, but when it’s done by something you’re paying for the privilege then it feels like rubbing salt in the wound.
Mohinder wriggles a little as Matt gets up and heads for the shower. He rolls over and pulls his shorts back on as he waits for Matt to re-emerge.
‘So, is now a better time to continue our discussion?’
‘What?’
‘About your problem, obviously,’ Mohinder says, rolling his eyes.
Matt stares at him, still holding the towel. ‘No.’
‘No?’
‘Why would I want to talk about that with you?’
‘Because I can help,’ Mohinder says, sitting up.
Matt snorts and puts the towel aside. ‘No you can’t.’ He turns his back on Mohinder and starts dressing.
Mohinder rolls his eyes. ‘Yes, I can. I’ll do it. I’ll pretend to be your partner and then you can get into your silly little police academy thing.’
Matt spins around. ‘Silly little… never mind. I’m not having this conversation with you.’
‘Oh don’t be so childish. You have a problem and I’m proposing a solution.’
‘Childish!’
‘Yes, childish.’ Mohinder sits up and crosses his legs. He looks, Matt thinks, like a very slim and particularly self-satisfied Buddha. ‘You have a house, yes? I’m sure you rambled on about some problem you were having. The roof or the foundations. Something.’
‘What the hell has that got to do with anything?’ Matt demands.
‘You need to prove you have a steady sexual partner,’ Mohinder says as if talking to a child. ‘I need somewhere to live. My landlord has sold my apartment from under me. If you let me rent a room in your house then I’ll pretend to be your lover. I’ll meet your boss or your friends or whoever.’
‘What? No! I’m not… no.’
Mohinder rolls his eyes. ‘Well it’s good to know I can rely on you for a coherent argument.’
‘This is none of your business! Jesus, this is a brothel isn’t it? I just come for what I need to stay healthy.’ Matt throws his hands in the air. ‘How do you even know about this anyway?’
‘Adam told me of course, he’s aware of my situation.’ Mohinder stands up and stalks over to Matt. ‘It’s a sensible solution.’
‘I don’t even know you!’
Mohinder rolls his eyes. ‘You’ve been coming here two or three times a week every month for the past two years. We know as much about each other as any two casual acquaintances can be expected to know.’
It makes sense. That’s the problem. Matt gets into the academy, hopefully, and Mohinder gets somewhere to live. God knows Matt could do with the extra money.
‘You’d pay me for the room?’
‘Naturally, I’ll pay for the room and towards the bills.’ Mohinder names a sum and Matt nods. Mohinder draws himself up. ‘I don’t expect charity.’
‘I don’t expect it either,’ Matt says quickly. ‘There’ll be a couple of meetings with my assessment team. That should be it.’
Mohinder relaxes slightly. ‘I don’t see that being a problem. I imagine that they’ll ask questions to ascertain how well I do know you the way they would if I was seeking immigration status for the same.’
‘I guess.’
‘Very well, then. We should provide each other with lists of information about background, likes, dislikes, and so on.’ Mohinder links his fingers together. ‘When can I move in?’
‘I don’t… I don’t know. This is all happening kinda fast…’ Matt says weakly.
‘We don’t have long before your assessment, isn’t that correct? So we should start as soon as possible. I have tomorrow off. I can start packing in the morning. If you come around in the evening I should be ready or you can come around earlier and help me.’
Matt finishes dressing and sighs. ‘Are you always this bossy?’
‘I’m rarely indecisive,’ Mohinder says after a moment. ‘It’s not helpful. By the time you’ve questioned every decision three times over you generally find the decision has been made for you.’ He takes a piece of notepaper from the dresser and jots down an address. ‘Here, this is me. I’ll be in all day packing.’
‘Yeah, well… for the record I don’t need you making my decisions for me. I’m a grown man okay?’
Mohinder laughs lightly and begins making the bed. ‘We’d lose our license if you weren’t.’
Matt’s opens the door to leave, wondering how he ended up having agreed to let this man he hardly knows and doesn’t much like move in to his house and pretend to be his lover.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow then,’ Mohinder says pointedly.
‘Oh, yeah, sure.’
Elle sticks her head around the door. ‘So?’
‘So what?’ Mohinder asks.
‘Duh! How did it go with your cop?’
Mohinder looks at the ceiling thoughtfully. ‘I got the result I wanted although it could’ve gone better.’
‘He really doesn’t like you,’ she says brightly.
A muscle jumps in his cheek. ‘Is there any call to be like that?’
‘I’m just saying.’
‘Out!’ Mohinder orders, pointing at the door. ‘Get out before I “just say” something that I’ll regret.’
‘Grumpy.’
Matt spends most of the day clearing out the spare bedroom. His mom’s bedroom isn’t… it’s not a shrine or anything like that. He gave almost all of her clothes away along with her books and her music. It’s still her bedroom and he’s not ready to move in to it. He’s certainly not going to give the room to Mohinder especially not when there’s a perfectly good spare room sat there.
It’s been a while since someone else has been in the house. It isn’t that Matt’s got into bad habits particularly but it’s going to be difficult adjusting to having someone else in his space. Anyone else in his space would be uncomfortable but Mohinder… maybe it’ll be different when they’re actually out of the brothel.
Yeah, right. Things are going to be magically different.
Matt goes around to Mohinder’s apartment in the early afternoon. He knows plenty of people do risk travelling around after dark but Matt avoids it where possible. Car-jackings have been getting increasingly common around Matt’s area with one of his neighbours having been dumped on her ass out of two different cars on three different occasions. She was lucky in that the gang of teenagers responsible seemed to have no particular interest in anything but driving the car around and then abandoning it. They certainly didn’t seem minded to do her violence except when she put up a fight. In any event, Matt takes a couple of properly licensed handguns with him just to be on the safe side, along with a can of mace.
Mohinder’s apartment building is a disaster area. It’s in a terrible part of town, there are burning cars abandoned in the middle of the street, and the building itself is a heavily boarded up. A sign on the front of the building announces that it has been sold to a development company and will shortly be demolished. Around the building is a ring of debris from equipment thrown down to smash apart on the road.
Matt drives past slowly and reaches for his cell phone. He’s wary of parking in front of the building in case the denizens decide to use it for target practice. Matt taps in the number on the phone and listens to it peal.
‘Mohinder Suresh,’ comes the crisp response.
‘It’s Matt Parkman. I’m outside your building.’
There’s a significant pause before Mohinder speaks again. ‘I can’t see you outside.’
‘I’m leery of parking near the stolen car bonfires.’
Mohinder gives a short bark of laughter. ‘Go around the back, there’s an underground car park. The entry code is 76381. I’ll meet you there.’
Even if the building wasn’t being sold under the occupants Matt can sympathise with Mohinder grabbing any chance to get out. The building was probably upmarket once but this was a disease hotspot and it had suffered badly from its continued exposure to the destructive urges of its inhabitants as well as those in the surrounding area. Matt just hopes that there’s sufficient security inside to allow Mohinder to bring his belongings down without being robbed.
In fact, when Matt parks the car he finds that Mohinder has his belongings securely locked inside a metal cart.
‘That all you got?’ Matt asks, looking at it critically.
‘It’s my books and my clothes. I’ve been burgled seven times in the past year,’ he says dryly.
‘That sucks,’ Matt says sympathetically.
‘How about you?’ Mohinder asks, towing the cart around to the car.
‘A couple of attempted home invasions,’ Matt says, scanning the car park warily as he opens the trunk. ‘A house can be easier to defend in some ways, harder than others.’
‘You’ll find me very keen on home security.’
‘Good to know.’
It’s oddly claustrophobic in the car. It’s a decent sized car and, while Mohinder isn’t a small man, he isn’t a particularly big man either and yet somehow Matt feels as though they’re crushed up close. The heat of Mohinder’s body seems to fog up the car and cling to Matt’s skin.
‘We haven’t discussed medication,’ Mohinder observes. ‘Since we’ll be under the same roof…’
‘You don’t get enough at work?’
‘It’s not the same. For some reason the specific endorphins that counter the disease are only produced with sexual arousal during penetrative sex with another person,’ Mohinder explains, ‘and nobody pays me for my arousal.’
Matt snorts and shakes his head. ‘I’m still a paying customer you know. Don’t go giving away all your secrets.’
‘Well that will hardly be necessary now, will it? Going to the brothel and paying when we can easily see to each other seems ludicrous.’
Matt reddens and stares ahead. ‘That’s a big assumption to make,’ he says.
Mohinder turns his head to look at the other man. ‘I hardly think it’s as odd as you’re implying. It’s what people do. Nobody wants to end up with full-blown endorphinemia.’
Matt chews his bottom lip. ‘You’re keeping yourself healthy so far. They test you at the brothel don’t they? That’s the law for prostitutes.’
‘Yes, of course, I’m tested twice a month. That’s not the point.’
‘It’s not like sharing the milk!’ Matt glances at him sideways. ‘Which is another thing, I’ll have my food and you have yours, okay? I like my privacy and I like my space.’
Mohinder’s cheeks redden slightly and he turns to look out of the window. ‘Yes of course we… Matt they’re going to…’
His words are cut off as Matt glances in his direction, sees the battered car coming straight for them at high speed, and floors the accelerator. The car lurches forward and Mohinder grabs the seat in panic, his fingers digging in the upholstery.
‘Are they still behind us?’ Matt asks grimly, concentrating on not colliding with the vehicles alongside. A cacophony of blaring car horns engulfs them, drowning out the sound of collisions behind.
‘They went past us and collided with a pickup truck,’ Mohinder reports, scowling out through the rear window.
‘I hope it was bad,’ Matt says. ‘Less chance of them following us.’
The orange and red of an explosion briefly illuminates Mohinder’s face, casting the dark skin in a sickly light.
‘I don’t think that’s terribly likely,’ he says thoughtfully. He turns around and settles back in his seat. ‘I thought that public transport was risky enough.’
‘During the daytime it’s not so bad,’ Matt allows. ‘You gotta be careful though to not have anything tempting visible on the backseat or whatever.’
‘No, really? And here I was planning on keeping gold bullion and cut diamonds on display!’
‘Quit it.’
‘What?’
Matt’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. ‘Quit the sarcastic comments, okay? I got a right not to be talked to like I’m a damn idiot even if that’s what you think I am.’
Mohinder blinks and his mouth drops open. ‘I wasn’t!’
‘Yes you damn well were and you always do!’ Matt thumps the steering wheel with the flat of his hand. ‘This is why I hate seeing you at the brothel. I pay to get medicated, not to be insulted and made fun of.’
Mohinder stares silently at the now red-faced man sat beside him and glaring out of the window.
‘I’m not trying to be rude or nothing,’ Matt says after a long, tense few moments. ‘But Jesus Christ I can’t do this if you’re going to be needling me all the damn time.’
Mohinder shifts his gaze out of the window. ‘I see.’
‘Don’t sulk, okay? I’m the one who’s getting talked to like a damn moron.’
Mohinder folds his arms tightly across his chest and continues staring out of the window.
‘It wasn’t my intention to address you as though you were a moron.’
‘Well that’s how you come across.’
‘I’ll restrict myself to mere platitudes and the bare minimum communication required,’ Mohinder says frostily.
Matt ignores the coldness and simply nods.
Matt’s house is set a little way back on a quiet street. Mohinder raises his eyebrows when he sees the line of young trees that have been planted all around the house. They already provide an impassable barrier and in a few years they’ll completely block the house from sight. There’s a six foot tall, heavy, reinforced metal gate in a narrow gap between the trees that Mohinder rather admires although he suspect it invites attention that wouldn’t be there otherwise. But then many of the other houses are clearly owned by older people and have little obvious security. The chintzy flowered curtains and pink or cream interiors are well cared for but the windows and doors all show the signs of repeated attack. A sign in one of the windows reads ‘We have been burgled twelve times. We have nothing left to steal.’
‘Here’s your key for the gate.’
Mohinder had been standing with his back to the house, watching for potential threats and keeping a tight grip on his belongings, but now he half turns to Matt to take the key. He’s still feeling rather ruffled and jagged after Matt’s outburst and so is quiet when he accepts the large, heavy key.
Matt glances around quickly before pushing open the gate. ‘Okay, hustle.’
Being relatively safe will be worth even Matt’s sulking, Mohinder decides. Through the gate there’s a very small yard and then the house itself. The yard is surprisingly neat with carefully raked gravel and a small garden bench. The wall behind the house has been built up to the height of the house and ornamental spikes installed on top of it.
‘I’m surprised you didn’t build a wall at the front too,’ Mohinder observes.
‘I was refused permission to build one,’ Matt says with a shrug. ‘The way things are going to hell and they’re worrying about a wall.’
The windows are reinforced glass and have decorative and above all strong. When Matt swings open the front door and stands aside, Mohinder realises how thick the door really is.
‘You seem to have done a thorough job with the security,’ Mohinder admits.
‘It’s metal with a plastic shell,’ Matt says, as if he feels he has to prove he deserves the praise.
‘Good, that’s reassuring.’
In fact the entire house is a mix of old-fashioned comfort and modern security. What really surprises Mohinder though is how visually pleasing the whole is, Matt has gone to some trouble to keep the security improvements in keeping with the house style generally. Although he’s seen enough of Matt, and often enough, to know that Matt is clean and neat he’s seen no sign that Matt has any particular flair aesthetically.
‘So will this do?’ Matt asks, still stood uncomfortably in the spare bedroom.
Mohinder nods as he takes off his shoes and puts them neatly at the end of the bed. ‘I assume I will at least have access to the kitchen? I appreciate I’ll be supplying my own food.’
Matt sighs, feeling increasingly guilty at going off on Mohinder before. ‘Yeah, sure, of course. I don’t know how we’ll work out the TV…’
‘I rarely watch the television,’ Mohinder says shortly. ‘Most of it is mindless drivel for uncultured idiots so you’re welcome to watch as much as you like.’
It isn’t until Matt’s gapes at him that it occurs to Mohinder to reconsider what he’s said. But by the time he’s examined what he’s said it’s already too late, Matt has already stormed out of the room, slamming his bedroom door behind him.
Perfect, Mohinder thinks, covering his face with his hands.
Mohinder hesitates on the stairs, looking down into the living room where Matt is stalking about.
‘Are you off anywhere pleasant?’ Mohinder asks meekly.
‘Work.’ Matt pulls on his jacket and when he turns around Mohinder can see the logo and name of a pizza chain on his polo shirt.
‘You work in a pizza restaurant?’
‘It’s the perfect job for a mindless and uncultured idiot,’ Matt snarls.
Mohinder folds his arms. ‘I didn’t mean that!’
‘You know what, I don’t care what you meant,’ Matt says, gathering up a set of keys. ‘I think it’ll be best all round if we keep ourselves to ourselves. If I get into the academy I’ll be out during the day and you work afternoons and evenings so staying out of each other’s way shouldn’t be a problem.’
Mohinder swallows hard and bites the inside of his cheek before answering. ‘Now you’re being ridiculous.’
Matt looks up and Mohinder flinches at his expression. ‘Agreeing to your dumb plan was ridiculous. But I’m a man of my word so I guess I’m stuck with you. I’m going to work.’ He throws the keys at Mohinder, who catches them automatically. ‘Those are your keys. You owe me for them.’
‘There’s no need to…’ Mohinder trails off as Matt leaves without waiting to hear what there’s no need to do.
‘I wasn’t expecting to hear from you,’ Adam almost purrs down the telephone. ‘Shouldn’t you be getting up close and personal with Mr Law-and-Order?’
‘Not on the cards,’ Mohinder says quietly as he curls up on the couch.
‘What’ve you done?’ Adam accuses.
‘Nothing!’ Mohinder blows out his cheeks. ‘Not really.’
‘You and your mouth. I told you he needs handling with kid gloves,’ Adam tuts.
Mohinder closes his eyes. ‘Don’t shout at me, Adam, I’ve had enough of being shouted at for today.’
‘Oh dear, you sound absolutely wretched.’
‘I’m feeling very sorry for myself,’ Mohinder agrees. ‘But I’m a grown up and I’m sure I’ll get over it.’
‘Darling you know I’d love to chat all evening but I’m expecting a client any minute,’ Adam says gently. ‘Have you tried not being snotty and sarcastic with him?’
‘I’m insulted that you automatically assume I’m the one at fault.’
‘Aren’t you?’ Adam says, sounding surprised.
‘It’s not my fault he’s overly sensitive,’ Mohinder mutters guiltily.
Adam chuckles lightly. ‘Hmm-mmm, as I thought. Try a fulsome apology and explain that you’re often so caught up with the desire to prove how smart you are that you say things that you really shouldn’t.’
‘I suppose it’s fruitless to point out that no offence is given when none is taken.’
‘Yes, particularly since I can as easily say that no offence is taken were none is given,’ Adam points out. ‘Do be sensible, Mohinder. Use a little honey, hmm, it’s so much more efficacious than vinegar. Oh, here’s my thirty minutes of dirty fun. Now remember, kiss up to the cop when he comes home. There’s a good boy.’
Mohinder thumbs off the phone and crosses the room to put the handset back on the stand. ‘Use honey,’ he says to himself. ‘Easier said than done.’
Matt returns home at three am, tired and aggravated by two attempts to refuse payment and one call to a non-existent address. He’s well aware that being a police officer will likely involve an endless parade of frustrations and violence but then so does daily life now. He’s not willing to abandon that dream along will all of his others.
The place was properly locked up, so his new roommate is security conscious at least. Security conscious, good looking, and makes Matt feel like a complete idiot. Matt reminds himself that the money will be useful, as will someone being in the house during the day.
‘Matt?’
Matt digs his way out of the bedclothes and stares blearily at the alarm clock. It’s twenty minutes before he’d normally get up so there’s no point in going back to sleep.
‘Matt, are you awake?’ Mohinder demands, rapping on the door.
‘I am now,’ Matt grumbles. He drags himself out of bed, wraps his robe around himself and stumbles to the door. ‘What’s wrong?’ He pauses and reaches for the baseball bat resting in the corner. ‘Is someone out there with you?’
‘What? No, don’t be ridiculous. I’ve brought you something to eat and some coffee,’ he says. ‘It’s on a tray,’ he adds as if it’s a big concession.
Matt turns this over in his mind a few times to see if makes any more sense. Then he draws back the bolts on the door and opens the door a crack. Mohinder’s eyes travel up and down quickly and then he raises his eyebrows and holds up the tray meaningfully.
‘I just got up,’ Matt grumbles, feeling the two inch slice that Mohinder just examined had not shown him at his best. ‘You just woke me up.’
Mohinder rolls his eyes. ‘Food. Coffee. Eaty, eaty, drinky, drinky.’ His eyes widen in alarm as he takes in Matt’s suddenly thunderous expression. ‘It’s a joke! God. Get a sense of humour. I’ve just brought you bloody breakfast.’
‘Sorry,’ Matt mutters, chagrined. He opens the door a little wider and pulls the robe around him more tightly. ‘You didn’t have to do this.’
Mohinder holds out the tray. ‘I feel that we got off to the wrong foot,’ he says primly. ‘Consider it a peace offering.’
‘Um, thanks,’ Matt says, and finally takes the tray. ‘I don’t have anything to give you.’
Mohinder waves a hand dismissively. ‘I have a definite feeling this particular breach is down to me to bridge. I speak before I think and I have a sharper sense of humour than is perhaps appropriate.’ His raises an eyebrow. ‘I’m apologising.’
‘Oh, the lack of the phrase “I’m sorry” confused me on the whole apology thing,’ Matt says.
Mohinder rolls his eyes. ‘I’m sorry, now would you like me to lie prostrate on the floor? I could kiss your feet.’
Matt laughs slightly and takes a step back. ‘Okay, well, thanks. I’m going to… I’m going to have my breakfast.’ He walks back into the room, puts the tray down, and goes back to lock the door. Mohinder continues to mystify him. The man is completely baffling. Matt would be far more likely to believe him if it hadn’t been for the odd appraising look Mohinder had given him. If it was anyone else had looked at Matt like that he’d have thought it was a come on. Matt shakes his head at that thought; it’s idiotic on so many levels. Why would Mohinder give away what he sells for a living, for one thing, for another thing Matt has no illusions about the way the prostitutes view their customers, and on top of all that there’s the simple fact that Mohinder, prostitute or not, is out of his league.
Matt snorts and takes a sip of his coffee. Out of his league, he doesn’t even know if Mohinder’s gay. He’d hardly be the first straight man to sell his body.
Matt doesn’t even know why he’s thinking like this. Mohinder isn’t remotely relaxing company or even particular pleasant company. He makes Matt too uneasy and anxious for that, although maybe he’s now realised the effect he’s having. Matt pauses with coffee cup half way to his mouth. He can’t be developing a crush on Mohinder. On his roommate. On someone who makes him feel small, useless, and stupid. He can’t.
Matt puts down the cup and sighs.
Mohinder floats around the living room for a couple of hours until it become quite obvious that Matt has no intention of coming downstairs any time soon. He stands, staring at nothing in particular, and chews his thumb.
He ought to go up to his room and set out his equipment. His research position had just finished when the disease broke out and instead of going home the borders were closed; he was stranded in the US. He tried taxi driving but it was just too dangerous. That still makes him laugh. Selling his body in a brothel is safer and more lucrative now than driving a cab. That’s the world now. Anyway, he still has his books and some of his equipment so he’s been continuing his research as best he can.
The unfortunate truth is that this isn’t the first time he’s had his… had his words misinterpreted. Yes, that’s what happened. He was misinterpreted and misjudged. It wasn’t his fault that other people didn’t get his sense of humour.
Not even Mohinder believed that, not truly, but it was far less painful than considering the alternative. At this moment Mohinder feels that he’s had enough pain, thank you. Damn it, Matt was supposed to agree to mutual medication. It was sensible and logical and practical, and Mohinder had pinned all his plans on it. It would be so much easier that way. He could… dress things up over time. Medicate after a nice meal, in Mohinder room, with some soft music just happening to be playing. Matt would realise, since Mohinder actually credits Matt with a decent intellect, but he’d be able to pretend he didn’t, if he wasn’t interested in Mohinder and wanted to let him down gently. It should’ve been so straightforward and simple. Potentially painful but not complicated. It would’ve been simple if Matt had agreed. But he didn’t.
Mohinder sits down and worries his thumb. He should’ve thought more about Matt wanting to see someone else at the brothel. He should’ve taken it more seriously, but he didn’t. It’s a mess. It was idiotic of him to think… to hope for… no. This isn’t a helpful train of thought.
When Matt comes downstairs it’s already dark outside despite it only being early afternoon. These short winter days are no help to safety and Matt finds the darkness oppressive. He almost misses the shape on the sofa, the area of deeper shadow, and is baffled as to what it could be. It isn’t until he turns on the light that he realises his new roomie is out like a light on the sofa.
‘Mohinder?’ Matt sighs heavily and awkwardly shakes Mohinder by the shoulder. ‘Mohinder?’
‘What?’ the other man mutters, his voice drugged with sleep.
‘You fell asleep on the sofa.’
Mohinder drags himself up into a sitting position and runs his fingers through his tangled hair. ‘I made something for dinner.’ He yawns suddenly and then picks up a pile of cards which he hands to Matt. ‘Here, you need to do some for me.’
Matt stares at them blankly. ‘What?’
‘They’re flash cards. We need to learn about each other I presume. You’ll need to do some for me too.’ Mohinder stretches luxuriously. ‘I’ll go and warm the food up while you shower.’
‘Are you saying I need to shower?’
Mohinder rolls his eyes. ‘I’ve just woken up. I’m in no mood to deal with nonsense.’
‘You just can’t help yourself can you?’ Matt growls. ‘Just when you start seeming like maybe you’re an okay guy you gotta go open your mouth don’t you?’
‘I’ve made you a bloody meal!’
‘What’re you, my mother? I didn’t ask you to!’ Matt spins on his heel and stalks away.
Mohinder snatches up a cushion from the sofa and hurls it at the wall.
Matt leans his head against the bathroom wall and closes his eyes. It’s such a mess. Such a horrendous mess. It seemed like things might be getting a little better and then this. He can’t kick Mohinder out on the street, not just because he needs him but because… well, how can he with things the way they are? Without somewhere to live Mohinder would end up in a terrible mess in no time.
It’s because he’s tired, Matt decides. If he hadn't been tired he wouldn’t have reacted so strongly. He knows he overreacted. He knew he was overreacting even as he was doing it. Matt closes his eyes and sighs. He’s never thought of himself as a man with a particularly bad temper but something about Mohinder just pushes him to a fury. There’s got to be some way of… of dealing with this. They can’t go on snapping and snarling at each other, they’ll end up killing each other.
And then the air fills with screaming sirens.
Matt comes crashing down the stairs pulling on jogging pants one-handed and carrying a t-shirt and a shotgun in the other hand. He relaxes a fraction when he notes the door is still closed, locked, and bolted, and then a fraction more when he sees Mohinder, gripping the baseball bat, stood by the window.
‘I thought it was an elephant coming down the stairs,’ Mohinder says lightly, returning his attention to the window.
‘Keep up the wisecracks Curly, and I’ll throw you out there.’ Matt puts the shotgun down, pulls on his t-shirt, and picks up the gun again in one easy movement.
‘Can we turn off the bloody siren?’
Matt looks out of the window and then steps back to a small cupboard. He pulls open the door and flips a few switches. ‘How many can you see?
‘One’s made it over the gate and it looks like there are another two struggling to climb over. The one in the garden has hurt his leg. He’s limping quite badly.’
‘Good.’ Matt racks the shotgun and then presses another button in the cupboard. ‘Attention home invaders: you have two minutes to leave the premises.’ He opens the window and fires into the air.
‘Jesus! Warn me before you do that!’ Mohinder squeaks.
Matt gives him a look and closes the window before returning to the cupboard. ‘That was a warning shot. The next time we won’t be firing into the air.’ He checks the window and looks at Mohinder appraisingly. ‘You need a gun.’
‘I don’t know how to use one,’ Mohinder admits, and Matt can see how much the admission costs him.
‘Take this,’ Matt says, handing him the shotgun. ‘It’s strictly short range okay, but close up it’s devastating. That’s the trigger; keep your finger off it until you’re ready to shoot. Don’t fire until you can see the whites of their eyes as the saying goes.’ Matt turns and walks quickly over to a cabinet.
‘They’re not leaving,’ Mohinder says, holding the shotgun like a dead animal, and looking out of the window.
‘No problem.’ Matt pulls a huge hunting rifle out of the cabinet and loads the ammunition. ‘Don’t hold it like that, it won’t bite. Try to relax a bit.’
‘I don’t come from a nation of gunslingers.’ Mohinder gingerly adjusts his grip on the shotgun. ‘And one of the other men is over the gate!’
Matt checks his watch. ‘Time’s up,’ he notes. ‘Open the window and wait. If they get close enough for you to see their eyes, fire.’ He presses the button again. ‘Your two minutes are up, gentlemen. Return to the gate or we’ll open fire.’
The limping man lurches forward while the second man, a very tall man dressed all in black, pauses and then starts to move around to the back of the house.
‘Matt!’
‘Shit, you aim for Limpy,’ Matt orders. He squints as he tries to follow the taller man’s movement. He blocks Mohinder’s panicked breathing from his mind and concentrates on his own breathing. He squeezes the trigger gently…
‘Oh fuck!’ Mohinder squeezes his eyes shut as he yanks hard on the trigger. The shotgun lurches up and Mohinder staggers back, tripping over and dropping the shotgun.
‘Christ!’ Matt hisses. ‘Are you trying to kill me?’
‘I shot someone,’ Mohinder says quietly.
There’s an explosion of sound and Matt drops to the floor.
‘Come out, come out wherever you are!’
‘I must’ve missed,’ Mohinder says, unsure to be disappointed or relieved.
‘You didn’t, and I didn’t, so I guess that the third man got over the gate,’ Matt says. He crawls to the side of the window and then stands up.
‘Well, I was aiming for his leg…’
Matt purses his lips and looks out of the window. ‘Yes, but you yanked at the trigger and that pulled the gun up. A little squeeze does the job.’
Mohinder drags himself to the other side of the window and stands up, hugging the shotgun to himself.
‘Don’t look, go and call the police.’
‘Why shouldn’t I… oh good God! Did I do that?’
Matt fires a warning shot. ‘Last chance, leave now or I’ll take you down.’ He glances at Mohinder. ‘The shotgun did it, but you were aiming for his legs.’
‘Doesn’t help him!’
Matt fires, the heavy retort of the rifle filling the room. ‘He chose to break in here,’ he says, watching intently through the window. ‘They all did. They chose to break in and at least one of them has a gun.’ His eyes narrow. ‘Mohinder, this isn’t a request; go and call the police. Do it now.’
Mohinder bolts for the telephone in the kitchen.
It takes quite a while before the house is empty and quiet again. It seemed that the police and associated hangers-on stayed for hours. Mohinder honestly doesn’t remember much and what he does remember he wishes he didn’t. He’s in his bedroom now trying not to close his eyes because when he does he sees the mutilated corpse. The only death. Matt shot the tall man in the left buttock for God’s sake! The other man he shot in the shoulder and, when that didn’t stop him, in the shin. A lot of bleeding, a lot of screaming, but the ambulance had tidied them up and whisked them off.
‘Mohinder?’ Matt’s voice calls, and he knocks on the door. ‘Can I come in?’
‘It’s open.’
Matt opens the door and gingerly walks inside the other man’s bedroom. He’s sitting on the bed and he looks smaller and more fragile than Matt would’ve thought possible.
‘Have they gone?’ Mohinder asks.
‘Yeah, everyone’s gone,’ Matt says, sitting down on the bed next to him. ‘Tomorrow I’ll call and see about getting some spikes or something on top of the gate.’ He looks down as Mohinder’s hand finds his. ‘It’s horrible, the first time.’
‘You’ve… you’ve killed someone?’
‘Only in self-defence. I think the shock was the worst part. That I could do something like that. That I could be responsible for it. It felt so wrong no matter the reason.’
Mohinder nods and squeezes Matt’s hand. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t more help.’
‘You were plenty helpful,’ Matt protests. ‘I’m sorry your first week has been so cruddy.’
Mohinder laughs lightly and rubs his eyes with his free hand. ‘I get nervous.’
‘Well, people trying to break in is pretty…’
‘When I talk to you,’ Mohinder corrects him gently. ‘I get nervous when I talk to you and I say stupid things.’
Matt blows out his cheeks. ‘I never knew anyone nervous of me.’
Mohinder looks at him and raises his eyebrows.
‘Oh,’ Matt says, blushing. ‘So um, you suggested moving in because…’
‘For the reasons I told you, but also because… well,’ Mohinder trails off.
Matt puts Mohinder’s hand between his own. ‘You were so rude. I could’ve shrugged it off but… you’re not the only with a crush.’
‘Good to know, I was wondering.’
Matt pats his hand. ‘It’s late. Or early.’
‘Yeah,’ Mohinder says quietly and leans against Matt. ‘Don’t leave me alone tonight?’
‘You’re upset; I don’t think it’s a good idea.’
Mohinder shakes his head. ‘Stupid ass. That’s the whole reason I’m here.’
‘Just to sleep them,’ Matt agrees. ‘For now.’
Mohinder kisses him softly. ‘For now.’
The End
Pairing: Matt/Mohinder
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Adult language and scenes of a sexual nature. Violence and the imminent apocalypse.
Word Count: 8273
Authors Note: Huge thanks to
jaune_chat for the great prompt ‘In the future, you have to have sex to save your soul. An extremely prevalent virus destroys the part of the brain that can comprehend right from wrong, unless the body is flooded with endorphins regularly. Matt knows that unless he shows the police academy that he has a steady and available partner, they'll never let him in the door. Up until now he's been visiting a brothel to keep himself safe. How can he prove to the academy he has a steady partner, even if he knows all the prostitutes by name?’ Matt licks his lips and hunches his shoulders as he makes his way down the darkened alleyway. There are public health fliers peeling off the walls and used condoms underfoot. There are nicer places than this although none that Matt can afford. An irony of the epidemic is that prostitutes have vanished from the streets and either into military or private brothels. Working on the streets was dangerous enough before the epidemic ravaged the country. They’re all infected, everyone in the country is at least in stage one, and so far the only way they’ve found to stave off the full-blown disease is to regularly flood the system with endorphins. Heavy exercise or masturbation will extend things by a few hours but the only guaranteed method to stay healthy is intercourse every 72 hours. So many street corner prostitutes were kidnapped by gangs, rapists, and psychopaths that the government had to legalise brothels just to stem the tide.
Most single people, most average single people, quickly arranged with particular friends to keep each other healthy. Some of the more modern religious groups announced that provided the sex was purely medicinal then it wasn’t a sin, even outside of marriage. After all those living and working too far from home to return every couple of days had to do something. Initially the situation was awkward and embarrassing for everyone but people quickly adapted as people always do. But Matt didn’t have many friends and in desperation he’d end up at the cheapest, clean brothel around. The area is terrible and time with the prostitutes is sold in only fifteen or thirty minute slots but the management are decent and the prostitutes are clean and relatively sociable.
Matt pays up front at the desk and glances at the board showing which of the prostitutes are available. Since the appointments are so short it’s always touch and go who will be available. Not that Matt’s in any position to pick and choose any more then he’d pick and choose which nurse gives him his vaccinations or which assistant will serve him at the supermarket.
‘I’ve got… Adam ready? He’s in room five,’ suggests the receptionist.
‘Great, thanks.’
Matt’s mind is buzzing as he makes his way to the room. He’s got his police academy interview in less than a month and although he knows he’s passed all his exams he’s dreading it. He’s dreading it because he knows under the emergency laws he has to prove he has a regular and committed sexual partner in order to join the academy. If any other disease were endemic then things would be different but endorphinemia doesn’t kill; nothing so simple. Instead it causes irreparable brain damage, destroying the parts of the brain responsible for moral judgement. Every victim of full blown endorphinemia become psychopathic, without conscience or morality, but not without a sense of self protection. A police force which doesn’t insist on its members being into committed relationships could very easily become a police force of thieves, rapists, and murderers.
Adam is brushing his teeth as Matt enters the room. He holds up a hand as Matt shuts the door behind him. Adam spits into the sink and then swills his mouth out with water.
‘Sorry about that,’ Adam says, cheerily as he walks across the room. ‘They’ve introduced a new hygiene standard for brothels. We just got a copy this morning.’
‘Oh, fun,’ Matt says, rolling his eyes.
‘They’ve sucked most of the fun out this job,’ Adam grumbles. ‘I tell you some days I feel like I work a conveyor belt.’ He throws himself onto the bed and gives Matt a bright smile. ‘But it’s always fun seeing you.’
‘You’re a liar,’ Matt says wryly.
‘It used to be my job.’ Adam waves a hand. ‘It used to be a case of making the client feel better about himself and fulfilling some kind of fantasy. Now we’re downmarket nurses for God’s sake, dishing out medicine to the lepers.’
‘Well you’re really fulfilling my fantasies right now,’ Matt says, taking off his clothes. ‘Bitching and moaning is very sexy.’
Adam waggles his feet and pouts at Matt. ‘I don’t think of you as a client, Matt, I think of you as…’
‘An acquaintance?’ Matt suggests with a smile as he climbs onto the bed.
‘Harsh, very harsh,’ Adam says lightly. ‘You’re looking a little distracted.’
‘I’m distracted? You’re the one going on about what a crappy job you have.’
Adam smiles lazily. ‘Poor baby, let me get rid of your grumps for you.’
‘Have you got a date for starting at the academy?’ Adam asks as Matt quickly showers.
‘Putting the cart before the horse,’ Matt calls back. ‘If I can’t prove I’m in a committed relationship I won’t be going anywhere.’
‘I didn’t know you had a boyfriend. Out of town a lot is he?’
Matt steps out of the shower, rubbing himself down with a towel. ‘I don’t,’ he says sheepishly. ‘That’s pretty much the problem. I don’t even have a casual boyfriend or any kind of girlfriend.’
Adam gets up and heads for the shower. ‘A good looking lad like you?’
‘Yeah, well.’ Matt has never been a ‘smooth’ sort of man; he’s never found it easy to approach people he finds attractive and he’s terrible at expressing how he feels, let alone articulating how other people expect him to feel. ‘It’s nigh on impossible now isn’t it? Everyone’s so tense of meeting new people. There’s no telling someone with full blown endorphinemia until they’re trying to cut your heart out and eat it.’
‘That’s a pickle all right,’ Adam agrees. ‘Let me have a think about. I’ll see what I can work out,’ he says gravely.
Matt lives alone since his mother died. He finds the house too big and too quiet now but it’s defensible and it’s cheap enough to run. Too many of the general population have succumbed to the full blown disease to take any chances with security. Too many people previously of good character have lost the ability to tell right from wrong. Matt went into his local store the previous week and a sulking teenage girl had stabbed in the arm when he refused to sell her liquor. Stabbed him, picked up the bottle, and sauntered out of the store as those it were the most normal thing in the world. Matt had let her go and concentrated on the bleeding man. The chances were she’d be back sooner or later, after all, in her mind she had done anything that was even surprising, let alone wrong.
He works delivering pizza, which is another job that’s become more perilous of late. They have to go out in threes just to offset the would-be robbers who fancy a pizza and can’t be bothered ordering their own. Of course as soon as people are diagnosed with the full-blown disease they’re hauled off… somewhere. But it’s impossible to check everyone every week. Some of the big multinationals have private medical staff that regularly checks the employees as do the armed forces and the various police forces. The general public though have to worry about themselves. Matt does worry, worries constantly, as the idea of losing his sense of right and wrong terrifies him. The worst part, as far as he can see, is that people don’t even realise it’s happened to them. They don’t feel any different.
Matt’s always wanted to be a cop. He’s had to work his fingers to the bone to get through school and when his mom was diagnosed with cancer he had to step up and earn money as well. He’s got one shot at getting into the academy and he feels like he’s sliding irresistibly towards the reject door. He should be doing something, coming up with some plan, but he feels paralyzed with indecision. How can he possibly find someone and form any kind of relationship in less than a month?
Matt shrinks a little when Elle the receptionist at the brothel announces that Mohinder is available. The other man is very attractive, probably the most attractive man in the place, but he’s also the least approachable. Adam, DL, and the others are generally friendly and good-natured but Mohinder is distinctly haughty and standoffish. He rarely says much and responds to Matt’s attempts at pleasantries with a cold stare or a bitingly sarcastic comment.
‘You know I don’t… I don’t mind waiting a little bit,’ Matt says quickly.
‘But he’s available now,’ the Elle says, clearly confused.
‘I know but, you know, I don’t mind waiting for someone else.’
She gives him a baffled look. ‘Mohinder is one of our most popular employees. We get people asking for him particularly.’
‘Great! So, I’ll wait and someone else can see Mohinder,’ Matt says quickly.
She stares at him for a couple of seconds. ‘I don’t think… I’m going to have to ask…’
Matt smiles weakly. He really didn’t think it would be such a big issue. It’s not as if he’s trying to jump the line or demand a particular person.
Mohinder is lying on the bed when Elle rushes in. He glances up briefly from the paper he’s reading and then returns to it. ‘What’s wrong with you?’ he asks.
‘Um, so, you know that client, Matt, the one who wants to be cop? The one who always comes in this kind of time?’
Mohinder raises an eyebrow. ‘Yes, the client whom I gave you fifty dollars to send my way. If he’s here then send him right in. It’s not necessary to come running in to tell me he’s here.’
Elle rolls her eyes. ‘Yeah, that’s great Mohinder, only problem is he doesn’t want to see you.’
Mohinder frowns and then puts the paper aside. ‘What?’
‘I told him that you were ready and he said he didn’t mind waiting. He’s real keen on waiting to see someone else instead. I said I’d have to check.’
Mohinder sets his jaw. ‘Do you normally let clients pick and choose?’
‘No, duh, it’s first come, first served. Excepting when people pay me a little extra.’
‘Has he done that?’ Mohinder asks in a voice so cold it practically has icicles.
‘No, I mean, not yet.’
Mohinder raises an eyebrow. ‘Then all you have to do is tell him that it’s first come, first served.’
‘Well okay but what if he offers me money?’ she asks.
‘I beat him to it,’ Mohinder almost growls. ‘And if you agree to assign him to someone else then I’ll take my money back with extreme prejudice.’
‘Geez! Keep your panties on. If this is how you talk to him them I can see why he doesn’t want you!’
Matt briefly, very briefly, considers saying he’ll come back later but he’s already embarrassed himself enough. He certainly doesn’t want to make an issue out of it.
‘Oh, okay,’ he says, smiling weakly.
‘It’s room 3,’ Elle says, leaning over the desk so far her feet leave the floor. ‘Down there, okay?’
Matt runs his finger around the collar of his t-shirt before he raps on the door with his knuckles.
There’s a long pause before the door is opened and Mohinder, clad only in boxer shorts, frowns at him.
‘Since when do you knock?’
Matt’s cheek twitches. ‘Can we get on with this?’ he asks, pushing past Mohinder.
‘If you like,’ Mohinder says, surprised. He shuts the door and throws himself onto the bed. ‘Feel free to babble.’
Matt grinds his teeth and undresses silently.
‘God knows you normally do,’ Mohinder adds.
Matt reddens and looks away. ‘Forget it.’ He starts gathering his clothes together.
‘What?’
‘I’ll wait until someone else is available.’
Mohinder sits up and frowns. ‘Someone got up on the wrong side of bed.’
‘I don’t come here for sniping and abuse!’
‘Oh and where do you go?’ Mohinder asks tartly.
Matt shakes his head and continues dressing. ‘This is why I didn’t want to see you,’ he says, and then winces.
‘Yes,’ Mohinder says coldly. ‘Elle said. Rather unfortunate when I’m quite willing to help you with your little problem.’
‘There are other professionals,’ Matt says sharply. ‘And it’s not as if you’re doing me a damn favour!’
‘I didn’t mean that,’ Mohinder says. ‘I meant your other problem. Adam says that you need to pretend you have a committed partner in order to get into the police academy.’
Matt shakes his head but sits at the bottom of the bed. ‘I need a partner.’
‘Well you’re not going to get one within a month are you?’
‘Are we doing this or not?’
Mohinder shrugs and rolls onto his front.
Matt stares at the straight, narrow back with its fine, dark skin. Mohinder never ceases to make him feel stupid and slow. Although Matt has a kind of grim determination he’s never been very confident and he’s sure he’s too thin-skinned. When Mohinder throws around his thoughtlessly sharp comments they cut Matt to the quick.
Matt sighs as he stands up and takes off his clothes again. Being snapped at and made to feel like an idiot by someone you’re dating is one thing, but when it’s done by something you’re paying for the privilege then it feels like rubbing salt in the wound.
Mohinder wriggles a little as Matt gets up and heads for the shower. He rolls over and pulls his shorts back on as he waits for Matt to re-emerge.
‘So, is now a better time to continue our discussion?’
‘What?’
‘About your problem, obviously,’ Mohinder says, rolling his eyes.
Matt stares at him, still holding the towel. ‘No.’
‘No?’
‘Why would I want to talk about that with you?’
‘Because I can help,’ Mohinder says, sitting up.
Matt snorts and puts the towel aside. ‘No you can’t.’ He turns his back on Mohinder and starts dressing.
Mohinder rolls his eyes. ‘Yes, I can. I’ll do it. I’ll pretend to be your partner and then you can get into your silly little police academy thing.’
Matt spins around. ‘Silly little… never mind. I’m not having this conversation with you.’
‘Oh don’t be so childish. You have a problem and I’m proposing a solution.’
‘Childish!’
‘Yes, childish.’ Mohinder sits up and crosses his legs. He looks, Matt thinks, like a very slim and particularly self-satisfied Buddha. ‘You have a house, yes? I’m sure you rambled on about some problem you were having. The roof or the foundations. Something.’
‘What the hell has that got to do with anything?’ Matt demands.
‘You need to prove you have a steady sexual partner,’ Mohinder says as if talking to a child. ‘I need somewhere to live. My landlord has sold my apartment from under me. If you let me rent a room in your house then I’ll pretend to be your lover. I’ll meet your boss or your friends or whoever.’
‘What? No! I’m not… no.’
Mohinder rolls his eyes. ‘Well it’s good to know I can rely on you for a coherent argument.’
‘This is none of your business! Jesus, this is a brothel isn’t it? I just come for what I need to stay healthy.’ Matt throws his hands in the air. ‘How do you even know about this anyway?’
‘Adam told me of course, he’s aware of my situation.’ Mohinder stands up and stalks over to Matt. ‘It’s a sensible solution.’
‘I don’t even know you!’
Mohinder rolls his eyes. ‘You’ve been coming here two or three times a week every month for the past two years. We know as much about each other as any two casual acquaintances can be expected to know.’
It makes sense. That’s the problem. Matt gets into the academy, hopefully, and Mohinder gets somewhere to live. God knows Matt could do with the extra money.
‘You’d pay me for the room?’
‘Naturally, I’ll pay for the room and towards the bills.’ Mohinder names a sum and Matt nods. Mohinder draws himself up. ‘I don’t expect charity.’
‘I don’t expect it either,’ Matt says quickly. ‘There’ll be a couple of meetings with my assessment team. That should be it.’
Mohinder relaxes slightly. ‘I don’t see that being a problem. I imagine that they’ll ask questions to ascertain how well I do know you the way they would if I was seeking immigration status for the same.’
‘I guess.’
‘Very well, then. We should provide each other with lists of information about background, likes, dislikes, and so on.’ Mohinder links his fingers together. ‘When can I move in?’
‘I don’t… I don’t know. This is all happening kinda fast…’ Matt says weakly.
‘We don’t have long before your assessment, isn’t that correct? So we should start as soon as possible. I have tomorrow off. I can start packing in the morning. If you come around in the evening I should be ready or you can come around earlier and help me.’
Matt finishes dressing and sighs. ‘Are you always this bossy?’
‘I’m rarely indecisive,’ Mohinder says after a moment. ‘It’s not helpful. By the time you’ve questioned every decision three times over you generally find the decision has been made for you.’ He takes a piece of notepaper from the dresser and jots down an address. ‘Here, this is me. I’ll be in all day packing.’
‘Yeah, well… for the record I don’t need you making my decisions for me. I’m a grown man okay?’
Mohinder laughs lightly and begins making the bed. ‘We’d lose our license if you weren’t.’
Matt’s opens the door to leave, wondering how he ended up having agreed to let this man he hardly knows and doesn’t much like move in to his house and pretend to be his lover.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow then,’ Mohinder says pointedly.
‘Oh, yeah, sure.’
Elle sticks her head around the door. ‘So?’
‘So what?’ Mohinder asks.
‘Duh! How did it go with your cop?’
Mohinder looks at the ceiling thoughtfully. ‘I got the result I wanted although it could’ve gone better.’
‘He really doesn’t like you,’ she says brightly.
A muscle jumps in his cheek. ‘Is there any call to be like that?’
‘I’m just saying.’
‘Out!’ Mohinder orders, pointing at the door. ‘Get out before I “just say” something that I’ll regret.’
‘Grumpy.’
Matt spends most of the day clearing out the spare bedroom. His mom’s bedroom isn’t… it’s not a shrine or anything like that. He gave almost all of her clothes away along with her books and her music. It’s still her bedroom and he’s not ready to move in to it. He’s certainly not going to give the room to Mohinder especially not when there’s a perfectly good spare room sat there.
It’s been a while since someone else has been in the house. It isn’t that Matt’s got into bad habits particularly but it’s going to be difficult adjusting to having someone else in his space. Anyone else in his space would be uncomfortable but Mohinder… maybe it’ll be different when they’re actually out of the brothel.
Yeah, right. Things are going to be magically different.
Matt goes around to Mohinder’s apartment in the early afternoon. He knows plenty of people do risk travelling around after dark but Matt avoids it where possible. Car-jackings have been getting increasingly common around Matt’s area with one of his neighbours having been dumped on her ass out of two different cars on three different occasions. She was lucky in that the gang of teenagers responsible seemed to have no particular interest in anything but driving the car around and then abandoning it. They certainly didn’t seem minded to do her violence except when she put up a fight. In any event, Matt takes a couple of properly licensed handguns with him just to be on the safe side, along with a can of mace.
Mohinder’s apartment building is a disaster area. It’s in a terrible part of town, there are burning cars abandoned in the middle of the street, and the building itself is a heavily boarded up. A sign on the front of the building announces that it has been sold to a development company and will shortly be demolished. Around the building is a ring of debris from equipment thrown down to smash apart on the road.
Matt drives past slowly and reaches for his cell phone. He’s wary of parking in front of the building in case the denizens decide to use it for target practice. Matt taps in the number on the phone and listens to it peal.
‘Mohinder Suresh,’ comes the crisp response.
‘It’s Matt Parkman. I’m outside your building.’
There’s a significant pause before Mohinder speaks again. ‘I can’t see you outside.’
‘I’m leery of parking near the stolen car bonfires.’
Mohinder gives a short bark of laughter. ‘Go around the back, there’s an underground car park. The entry code is 76381. I’ll meet you there.’
Even if the building wasn’t being sold under the occupants Matt can sympathise with Mohinder grabbing any chance to get out. The building was probably upmarket once but this was a disease hotspot and it had suffered badly from its continued exposure to the destructive urges of its inhabitants as well as those in the surrounding area. Matt just hopes that there’s sufficient security inside to allow Mohinder to bring his belongings down without being robbed.
In fact, when Matt parks the car he finds that Mohinder has his belongings securely locked inside a metal cart.
‘That all you got?’ Matt asks, looking at it critically.
‘It’s my books and my clothes. I’ve been burgled seven times in the past year,’ he says dryly.
‘That sucks,’ Matt says sympathetically.
‘How about you?’ Mohinder asks, towing the cart around to the car.
‘A couple of attempted home invasions,’ Matt says, scanning the car park warily as he opens the trunk. ‘A house can be easier to defend in some ways, harder than others.’
‘You’ll find me very keen on home security.’
‘Good to know.’
It’s oddly claustrophobic in the car. It’s a decent sized car and, while Mohinder isn’t a small man, he isn’t a particularly big man either and yet somehow Matt feels as though they’re crushed up close. The heat of Mohinder’s body seems to fog up the car and cling to Matt’s skin.
‘We haven’t discussed medication,’ Mohinder observes. ‘Since we’ll be under the same roof…’
‘You don’t get enough at work?’
‘It’s not the same. For some reason the specific endorphins that counter the disease are only produced with sexual arousal during penetrative sex with another person,’ Mohinder explains, ‘and nobody pays me for my arousal.’
Matt snorts and shakes his head. ‘I’m still a paying customer you know. Don’t go giving away all your secrets.’
‘Well that will hardly be necessary now, will it? Going to the brothel and paying when we can easily see to each other seems ludicrous.’
Matt reddens and stares ahead. ‘That’s a big assumption to make,’ he says.
Mohinder turns his head to look at the other man. ‘I hardly think it’s as odd as you’re implying. It’s what people do. Nobody wants to end up with full-blown endorphinemia.’
Matt chews his bottom lip. ‘You’re keeping yourself healthy so far. They test you at the brothel don’t they? That’s the law for prostitutes.’
‘Yes, of course, I’m tested twice a month. That’s not the point.’
‘It’s not like sharing the milk!’ Matt glances at him sideways. ‘Which is another thing, I’ll have my food and you have yours, okay? I like my privacy and I like my space.’
Mohinder’s cheeks redden slightly and he turns to look out of the window. ‘Yes of course we… Matt they’re going to…’
His words are cut off as Matt glances in his direction, sees the battered car coming straight for them at high speed, and floors the accelerator. The car lurches forward and Mohinder grabs the seat in panic, his fingers digging in the upholstery.
‘Are they still behind us?’ Matt asks grimly, concentrating on not colliding with the vehicles alongside. A cacophony of blaring car horns engulfs them, drowning out the sound of collisions behind.
‘They went past us and collided with a pickup truck,’ Mohinder reports, scowling out through the rear window.
‘I hope it was bad,’ Matt says. ‘Less chance of them following us.’
The orange and red of an explosion briefly illuminates Mohinder’s face, casting the dark skin in a sickly light.
‘I don’t think that’s terribly likely,’ he says thoughtfully. He turns around and settles back in his seat. ‘I thought that public transport was risky enough.’
‘During the daytime it’s not so bad,’ Matt allows. ‘You gotta be careful though to not have anything tempting visible on the backseat or whatever.’
‘No, really? And here I was planning on keeping gold bullion and cut diamonds on display!’
‘Quit it.’
‘What?’
Matt’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. ‘Quit the sarcastic comments, okay? I got a right not to be talked to like I’m a damn idiot even if that’s what you think I am.’
Mohinder blinks and his mouth drops open. ‘I wasn’t!’
‘Yes you damn well were and you always do!’ Matt thumps the steering wheel with the flat of his hand. ‘This is why I hate seeing you at the brothel. I pay to get medicated, not to be insulted and made fun of.’
Mohinder stares silently at the now red-faced man sat beside him and glaring out of the window.
‘I’m not trying to be rude or nothing,’ Matt says after a long, tense few moments. ‘But Jesus Christ I can’t do this if you’re going to be needling me all the damn time.’
Mohinder shifts his gaze out of the window. ‘I see.’
‘Don’t sulk, okay? I’m the one who’s getting talked to like a damn moron.’
Mohinder folds his arms tightly across his chest and continues staring out of the window.
‘It wasn’t my intention to address you as though you were a moron.’
‘Well that’s how you come across.’
‘I’ll restrict myself to mere platitudes and the bare minimum communication required,’ Mohinder says frostily.
Matt ignores the coldness and simply nods.
Matt’s house is set a little way back on a quiet street. Mohinder raises his eyebrows when he sees the line of young trees that have been planted all around the house. They already provide an impassable barrier and in a few years they’ll completely block the house from sight. There’s a six foot tall, heavy, reinforced metal gate in a narrow gap between the trees that Mohinder rather admires although he suspect it invites attention that wouldn’t be there otherwise. But then many of the other houses are clearly owned by older people and have little obvious security. The chintzy flowered curtains and pink or cream interiors are well cared for but the windows and doors all show the signs of repeated attack. A sign in one of the windows reads ‘We have been burgled twelve times. We have nothing left to steal.’
‘Here’s your key for the gate.’
Mohinder had been standing with his back to the house, watching for potential threats and keeping a tight grip on his belongings, but now he half turns to Matt to take the key. He’s still feeling rather ruffled and jagged after Matt’s outburst and so is quiet when he accepts the large, heavy key.
Matt glances around quickly before pushing open the gate. ‘Okay, hustle.’
Being relatively safe will be worth even Matt’s sulking, Mohinder decides. Through the gate there’s a very small yard and then the house itself. The yard is surprisingly neat with carefully raked gravel and a small garden bench. The wall behind the house has been built up to the height of the house and ornamental spikes installed on top of it.
‘I’m surprised you didn’t build a wall at the front too,’ Mohinder observes.
‘I was refused permission to build one,’ Matt says with a shrug. ‘The way things are going to hell and they’re worrying about a wall.’
The windows are reinforced glass and have decorative and above all strong. When Matt swings open the front door and stands aside, Mohinder realises how thick the door really is.
‘You seem to have done a thorough job with the security,’ Mohinder admits.
‘It’s metal with a plastic shell,’ Matt says, as if he feels he has to prove he deserves the praise.
‘Good, that’s reassuring.’
In fact the entire house is a mix of old-fashioned comfort and modern security. What really surprises Mohinder though is how visually pleasing the whole is, Matt has gone to some trouble to keep the security improvements in keeping with the house style generally. Although he’s seen enough of Matt, and often enough, to know that Matt is clean and neat he’s seen no sign that Matt has any particular flair aesthetically.
‘So will this do?’ Matt asks, still stood uncomfortably in the spare bedroom.
Mohinder nods as he takes off his shoes and puts them neatly at the end of the bed. ‘I assume I will at least have access to the kitchen? I appreciate I’ll be supplying my own food.’
Matt sighs, feeling increasingly guilty at going off on Mohinder before. ‘Yeah, sure, of course. I don’t know how we’ll work out the TV…’
‘I rarely watch the television,’ Mohinder says shortly. ‘Most of it is mindless drivel for uncultured idiots so you’re welcome to watch as much as you like.’
It isn’t until Matt’s gapes at him that it occurs to Mohinder to reconsider what he’s said. But by the time he’s examined what he’s said it’s already too late, Matt has already stormed out of the room, slamming his bedroom door behind him.
Perfect, Mohinder thinks, covering his face with his hands.
Mohinder hesitates on the stairs, looking down into the living room where Matt is stalking about.
‘Are you off anywhere pleasant?’ Mohinder asks meekly.
‘Work.’ Matt pulls on his jacket and when he turns around Mohinder can see the logo and name of a pizza chain on his polo shirt.
‘You work in a pizza restaurant?’
‘It’s the perfect job for a mindless and uncultured idiot,’ Matt snarls.
Mohinder folds his arms. ‘I didn’t mean that!’
‘You know what, I don’t care what you meant,’ Matt says, gathering up a set of keys. ‘I think it’ll be best all round if we keep ourselves to ourselves. If I get into the academy I’ll be out during the day and you work afternoons and evenings so staying out of each other’s way shouldn’t be a problem.’
Mohinder swallows hard and bites the inside of his cheek before answering. ‘Now you’re being ridiculous.’
Matt looks up and Mohinder flinches at his expression. ‘Agreeing to your dumb plan was ridiculous. But I’m a man of my word so I guess I’m stuck with you. I’m going to work.’ He throws the keys at Mohinder, who catches them automatically. ‘Those are your keys. You owe me for them.’
‘There’s no need to…’ Mohinder trails off as Matt leaves without waiting to hear what there’s no need to do.
‘I wasn’t expecting to hear from you,’ Adam almost purrs down the telephone. ‘Shouldn’t you be getting up close and personal with Mr Law-and-Order?’
‘Not on the cards,’ Mohinder says quietly as he curls up on the couch.
‘What’ve you done?’ Adam accuses.
‘Nothing!’ Mohinder blows out his cheeks. ‘Not really.’
‘You and your mouth. I told you he needs handling with kid gloves,’ Adam tuts.
Mohinder closes his eyes. ‘Don’t shout at me, Adam, I’ve had enough of being shouted at for today.’
‘Oh dear, you sound absolutely wretched.’
‘I’m feeling very sorry for myself,’ Mohinder agrees. ‘But I’m a grown up and I’m sure I’ll get over it.’
‘Darling you know I’d love to chat all evening but I’m expecting a client any minute,’ Adam says gently. ‘Have you tried not being snotty and sarcastic with him?’
‘I’m insulted that you automatically assume I’m the one at fault.’
‘Aren’t you?’ Adam says, sounding surprised.
‘It’s not my fault he’s overly sensitive,’ Mohinder mutters guiltily.
Adam chuckles lightly. ‘Hmm-mmm, as I thought. Try a fulsome apology and explain that you’re often so caught up with the desire to prove how smart you are that you say things that you really shouldn’t.’
‘I suppose it’s fruitless to point out that no offence is given when none is taken.’
‘Yes, particularly since I can as easily say that no offence is taken were none is given,’ Adam points out. ‘Do be sensible, Mohinder. Use a little honey, hmm, it’s so much more efficacious than vinegar. Oh, here’s my thirty minutes of dirty fun. Now remember, kiss up to the cop when he comes home. There’s a good boy.’
Mohinder thumbs off the phone and crosses the room to put the handset back on the stand. ‘Use honey,’ he says to himself. ‘Easier said than done.’
Matt returns home at three am, tired and aggravated by two attempts to refuse payment and one call to a non-existent address. He’s well aware that being a police officer will likely involve an endless parade of frustrations and violence but then so does daily life now. He’s not willing to abandon that dream along will all of his others.
The place was properly locked up, so his new roommate is security conscious at least. Security conscious, good looking, and makes Matt feel like a complete idiot. Matt reminds himself that the money will be useful, as will someone being in the house during the day.
‘Matt?’
Matt digs his way out of the bedclothes and stares blearily at the alarm clock. It’s twenty minutes before he’d normally get up so there’s no point in going back to sleep.
‘Matt, are you awake?’ Mohinder demands, rapping on the door.
‘I am now,’ Matt grumbles. He drags himself out of bed, wraps his robe around himself and stumbles to the door. ‘What’s wrong?’ He pauses and reaches for the baseball bat resting in the corner. ‘Is someone out there with you?’
‘What? No, don’t be ridiculous. I’ve brought you something to eat and some coffee,’ he says. ‘It’s on a tray,’ he adds as if it’s a big concession.
Matt turns this over in his mind a few times to see if makes any more sense. Then he draws back the bolts on the door and opens the door a crack. Mohinder’s eyes travel up and down quickly and then he raises his eyebrows and holds up the tray meaningfully.
‘I just got up,’ Matt grumbles, feeling the two inch slice that Mohinder just examined had not shown him at his best. ‘You just woke me up.’
Mohinder rolls his eyes. ‘Food. Coffee. Eaty, eaty, drinky, drinky.’ His eyes widen in alarm as he takes in Matt’s suddenly thunderous expression. ‘It’s a joke! God. Get a sense of humour. I’ve just brought you bloody breakfast.’
‘Sorry,’ Matt mutters, chagrined. He opens the door a little wider and pulls the robe around him more tightly. ‘You didn’t have to do this.’
Mohinder holds out the tray. ‘I feel that we got off to the wrong foot,’ he says primly. ‘Consider it a peace offering.’
‘Um, thanks,’ Matt says, and finally takes the tray. ‘I don’t have anything to give you.’
Mohinder waves a hand dismissively. ‘I have a definite feeling this particular breach is down to me to bridge. I speak before I think and I have a sharper sense of humour than is perhaps appropriate.’ His raises an eyebrow. ‘I’m apologising.’
‘Oh, the lack of the phrase “I’m sorry” confused me on the whole apology thing,’ Matt says.
Mohinder rolls his eyes. ‘I’m sorry, now would you like me to lie prostrate on the floor? I could kiss your feet.’
Matt laughs slightly and takes a step back. ‘Okay, well, thanks. I’m going to… I’m going to have my breakfast.’ He walks back into the room, puts the tray down, and goes back to lock the door. Mohinder continues to mystify him. The man is completely baffling. Matt would be far more likely to believe him if it hadn’t been for the odd appraising look Mohinder had given him. If it was anyone else had looked at Matt like that he’d have thought it was a come on. Matt shakes his head at that thought; it’s idiotic on so many levels. Why would Mohinder give away what he sells for a living, for one thing, for another thing Matt has no illusions about the way the prostitutes view their customers, and on top of all that there’s the simple fact that Mohinder, prostitute or not, is out of his league.
Matt snorts and takes a sip of his coffee. Out of his league, he doesn’t even know if Mohinder’s gay. He’d hardly be the first straight man to sell his body.
Matt doesn’t even know why he’s thinking like this. Mohinder isn’t remotely relaxing company or even particular pleasant company. He makes Matt too uneasy and anxious for that, although maybe he’s now realised the effect he’s having. Matt pauses with coffee cup half way to his mouth. He can’t be developing a crush on Mohinder. On his roommate. On someone who makes him feel small, useless, and stupid. He can’t.
Matt puts down the cup and sighs.
Mohinder floats around the living room for a couple of hours until it become quite obvious that Matt has no intention of coming downstairs any time soon. He stands, staring at nothing in particular, and chews his thumb.
He ought to go up to his room and set out his equipment. His research position had just finished when the disease broke out and instead of going home the borders were closed; he was stranded in the US. He tried taxi driving but it was just too dangerous. That still makes him laugh. Selling his body in a brothel is safer and more lucrative now than driving a cab. That’s the world now. Anyway, he still has his books and some of his equipment so he’s been continuing his research as best he can.
The unfortunate truth is that this isn’t the first time he’s had his… had his words misinterpreted. Yes, that’s what happened. He was misinterpreted and misjudged. It wasn’t his fault that other people didn’t get his sense of humour.
Not even Mohinder believed that, not truly, but it was far less painful than considering the alternative. At this moment Mohinder feels that he’s had enough pain, thank you. Damn it, Matt was supposed to agree to mutual medication. It was sensible and logical and practical, and Mohinder had pinned all his plans on it. It would be so much easier that way. He could… dress things up over time. Medicate after a nice meal, in Mohinder room, with some soft music just happening to be playing. Matt would realise, since Mohinder actually credits Matt with a decent intellect, but he’d be able to pretend he didn’t, if he wasn’t interested in Mohinder and wanted to let him down gently. It should’ve been so straightforward and simple. Potentially painful but not complicated. It would’ve been simple if Matt had agreed. But he didn’t.
Mohinder sits down and worries his thumb. He should’ve thought more about Matt wanting to see someone else at the brothel. He should’ve taken it more seriously, but he didn’t. It’s a mess. It was idiotic of him to think… to hope for… no. This isn’t a helpful train of thought.
When Matt comes downstairs it’s already dark outside despite it only being early afternoon. These short winter days are no help to safety and Matt finds the darkness oppressive. He almost misses the shape on the sofa, the area of deeper shadow, and is baffled as to what it could be. It isn’t until he turns on the light that he realises his new roomie is out like a light on the sofa.
‘Mohinder?’ Matt sighs heavily and awkwardly shakes Mohinder by the shoulder. ‘Mohinder?’
‘What?’ the other man mutters, his voice drugged with sleep.
‘You fell asleep on the sofa.’
Mohinder drags himself up into a sitting position and runs his fingers through his tangled hair. ‘I made something for dinner.’ He yawns suddenly and then picks up a pile of cards which he hands to Matt. ‘Here, you need to do some for me.’
Matt stares at them blankly. ‘What?’
‘They’re flash cards. We need to learn about each other I presume. You’ll need to do some for me too.’ Mohinder stretches luxuriously. ‘I’ll go and warm the food up while you shower.’
‘Are you saying I need to shower?’
Mohinder rolls his eyes. ‘I’ve just woken up. I’m in no mood to deal with nonsense.’
‘You just can’t help yourself can you?’ Matt growls. ‘Just when you start seeming like maybe you’re an okay guy you gotta go open your mouth don’t you?’
‘I’ve made you a bloody meal!’
‘What’re you, my mother? I didn’t ask you to!’ Matt spins on his heel and stalks away.
Mohinder snatches up a cushion from the sofa and hurls it at the wall.
Matt leans his head against the bathroom wall and closes his eyes. It’s such a mess. Such a horrendous mess. It seemed like things might be getting a little better and then this. He can’t kick Mohinder out on the street, not just because he needs him but because… well, how can he with things the way they are? Without somewhere to live Mohinder would end up in a terrible mess in no time.
It’s because he’s tired, Matt decides. If he hadn't been tired he wouldn’t have reacted so strongly. He knows he overreacted. He knew he was overreacting even as he was doing it. Matt closes his eyes and sighs. He’s never thought of himself as a man with a particularly bad temper but something about Mohinder just pushes him to a fury. There’s got to be some way of… of dealing with this. They can’t go on snapping and snarling at each other, they’ll end up killing each other.
And then the air fills with screaming sirens.
Matt comes crashing down the stairs pulling on jogging pants one-handed and carrying a t-shirt and a shotgun in the other hand. He relaxes a fraction when he notes the door is still closed, locked, and bolted, and then a fraction more when he sees Mohinder, gripping the baseball bat, stood by the window.
‘I thought it was an elephant coming down the stairs,’ Mohinder says lightly, returning his attention to the window.
‘Keep up the wisecracks Curly, and I’ll throw you out there.’ Matt puts the shotgun down, pulls on his t-shirt, and picks up the gun again in one easy movement.
‘Can we turn off the bloody siren?’
Matt looks out of the window and then steps back to a small cupboard. He pulls open the door and flips a few switches. ‘How many can you see?
‘One’s made it over the gate and it looks like there are another two struggling to climb over. The one in the garden has hurt his leg. He’s limping quite badly.’
‘Good.’ Matt racks the shotgun and then presses another button in the cupboard. ‘Attention home invaders: you have two minutes to leave the premises.’ He opens the window and fires into the air.
‘Jesus! Warn me before you do that!’ Mohinder squeaks.
Matt gives him a look and closes the window before returning to the cupboard. ‘That was a warning shot. The next time we won’t be firing into the air.’ He checks the window and looks at Mohinder appraisingly. ‘You need a gun.’
‘I don’t know how to use one,’ Mohinder admits, and Matt can see how much the admission costs him.
‘Take this,’ Matt says, handing him the shotgun. ‘It’s strictly short range okay, but close up it’s devastating. That’s the trigger; keep your finger off it until you’re ready to shoot. Don’t fire until you can see the whites of their eyes as the saying goes.’ Matt turns and walks quickly over to a cabinet.
‘They’re not leaving,’ Mohinder says, holding the shotgun like a dead animal, and looking out of the window.
‘No problem.’ Matt pulls a huge hunting rifle out of the cabinet and loads the ammunition. ‘Don’t hold it like that, it won’t bite. Try to relax a bit.’
‘I don’t come from a nation of gunslingers.’ Mohinder gingerly adjusts his grip on the shotgun. ‘And one of the other men is over the gate!’
Matt checks his watch. ‘Time’s up,’ he notes. ‘Open the window and wait. If they get close enough for you to see their eyes, fire.’ He presses the button again. ‘Your two minutes are up, gentlemen. Return to the gate or we’ll open fire.’
The limping man lurches forward while the second man, a very tall man dressed all in black, pauses and then starts to move around to the back of the house.
‘Matt!’
‘Shit, you aim for Limpy,’ Matt orders. He squints as he tries to follow the taller man’s movement. He blocks Mohinder’s panicked breathing from his mind and concentrates on his own breathing. He squeezes the trigger gently…
‘Oh fuck!’ Mohinder squeezes his eyes shut as he yanks hard on the trigger. The shotgun lurches up and Mohinder staggers back, tripping over and dropping the shotgun.
‘Christ!’ Matt hisses. ‘Are you trying to kill me?’
‘I shot someone,’ Mohinder says quietly.
There’s an explosion of sound and Matt drops to the floor.
‘Come out, come out wherever you are!’
‘I must’ve missed,’ Mohinder says, unsure to be disappointed or relieved.
‘You didn’t, and I didn’t, so I guess that the third man got over the gate,’ Matt says. He crawls to the side of the window and then stands up.
‘Well, I was aiming for his leg…’
Matt purses his lips and looks out of the window. ‘Yes, but you yanked at the trigger and that pulled the gun up. A little squeeze does the job.’
Mohinder drags himself to the other side of the window and stands up, hugging the shotgun to himself.
‘Don’t look, go and call the police.’
‘Why shouldn’t I… oh good God! Did I do that?’
Matt fires a warning shot. ‘Last chance, leave now or I’ll take you down.’ He glances at Mohinder. ‘The shotgun did it, but you were aiming for his legs.’
‘Doesn’t help him!’
Matt fires, the heavy retort of the rifle filling the room. ‘He chose to break in here,’ he says, watching intently through the window. ‘They all did. They chose to break in and at least one of them has a gun.’ His eyes narrow. ‘Mohinder, this isn’t a request; go and call the police. Do it now.’
Mohinder bolts for the telephone in the kitchen.
It takes quite a while before the house is empty and quiet again. It seemed that the police and associated hangers-on stayed for hours. Mohinder honestly doesn’t remember much and what he does remember he wishes he didn’t. He’s in his bedroom now trying not to close his eyes because when he does he sees the mutilated corpse. The only death. Matt shot the tall man in the left buttock for God’s sake! The other man he shot in the shoulder and, when that didn’t stop him, in the shin. A lot of bleeding, a lot of screaming, but the ambulance had tidied them up and whisked them off.
‘Mohinder?’ Matt’s voice calls, and he knocks on the door. ‘Can I come in?’
‘It’s open.’
Matt opens the door and gingerly walks inside the other man’s bedroom. He’s sitting on the bed and he looks smaller and more fragile than Matt would’ve thought possible.
‘Have they gone?’ Mohinder asks.
‘Yeah, everyone’s gone,’ Matt says, sitting down on the bed next to him. ‘Tomorrow I’ll call and see about getting some spikes or something on top of the gate.’ He looks down as Mohinder’s hand finds his. ‘It’s horrible, the first time.’
‘You’ve… you’ve killed someone?’
‘Only in self-defence. I think the shock was the worst part. That I could do something like that. That I could be responsible for it. It felt so wrong no matter the reason.’
Mohinder nods and squeezes Matt’s hand. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t more help.’
‘You were plenty helpful,’ Matt protests. ‘I’m sorry your first week has been so cruddy.’
Mohinder laughs lightly and rubs his eyes with his free hand. ‘I get nervous.’
‘Well, people trying to break in is pretty…’
‘When I talk to you,’ Mohinder corrects him gently. ‘I get nervous when I talk to you and I say stupid things.’
Matt blows out his cheeks. ‘I never knew anyone nervous of me.’
Mohinder looks at him and raises his eyebrows.
‘Oh,’ Matt says, blushing. ‘So um, you suggested moving in because…’
‘For the reasons I told you, but also because… well,’ Mohinder trails off.
Matt puts Mohinder’s hand between his own. ‘You were so rude. I could’ve shrugged it off but… you’re not the only with a crush.’
‘Good to know, I was wondering.’
Matt pats his hand. ‘It’s late. Or early.’
‘Yeah,’ Mohinder says quietly and leans against Matt. ‘Don’t leave me alone tonight?’
‘You’re upset; I don’t think it’s a good idea.’
Mohinder shakes his head. ‘Stupid ass. That’s the whole reason I’m here.’
‘Just to sleep them,’ Matt agrees. ‘For now.’
Mohinder kisses him softly. ‘For now.’
The End
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Date: 2011-01-08 09:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-08 10:16 pm (UTC)Thanks very much, I'm glad you enjoyed it :D
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Date: 2011-01-08 11:13 pm (UTC)And poor Mohinder just can't keep his mouth shut. I've done that before when I'm nervous; sometimes I just say really stupid things that I want to smack myself for later.
I love Matt's determination to go for his dream, even in the face of a lack of a partner, having to work in a crappy interim job, and the world slowly edging towards chaos around him. The way he protects his house shows his dream in his surroundings. (Also the fact that Matt doesn't want to clean out his mother's old room for Mohinder felt so very, very real.)
Mohinder's clumsy attempts at courtship are so marvelously painfully awkward. The fact that they're both trying to stumble towards something more than "medicine" in this dying world is a ray of hope.
Thanks so much! :)
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Date: 2011-01-09 01:32 pm (UTC)I wanted to deal with the basic premise seriously rather than a crack!fic approach, partly because I'm never good at crack!fic :P
Thanks again!
<333
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Date: 2011-01-09 01:06 am (UTC)Matt and Mohinder are always lots of fun when they get off on the wrong foot. :D I love how incapable Mohinder is at sweetening his demeanor, and the revelation that he's not always been a hooker. It's interesting to think that he may very well be able to contribute to research for a cure to the virus at some point.
Love the ending too, how the stress and having to work together finally brings their guard down and gives them a bit of peace. Matt feeling some sympathy for what Mohinder is feeling in spite of how badly he's been offended previously is really sweet. :)
Awesome job, it's fantastic work! <333
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Date: 2011-01-09 01:35 pm (UTC)Matt and Mo seem doomed to start off on the wrong foot :P But at least Mo didn't bean Matt in the head with a fire extinguisher!
Thanks so much!
<333
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Date: 2011-01-09 04:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-09 01:36 pm (UTC)Thanks for reading and commenting, I'm really pleased you enjoyed it :D
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Date: 2011-01-09 06:38 am (UTC)Mohinder's line about "uncultured idiots" made me wince when I read it. Poor guy, foot right in the mouth! Loved that he really didn't have a filter when he was around Matt. Hee!
I really loved this! <333333
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Date: 2011-01-09 01:39 pm (UTC)I'm not generally a big one for end-of-the-world type stuff but I wanted it to be as believable as possible.
Hehe, I once saw a chemist wait until the rest of the guys in lab finished talking about a soap opera to announce that soap operas were only watched by 'lower class morons', ouch!
Thanks so much!
<333
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Date: 2011-01-09 06:32 pm (UTC)I liked that Matt managed to maintain a well kept home asthetic inspite of the security concerns of living in such a dangerous time.
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Date: 2011-01-09 07:15 pm (UTC)It seemed to me that in those circumstances jobs prone to customers trying to stiff them for the bill would naturally be the ones baring the brunt.
Matt always seemed to have a wide stubborn streak to me, given how many times he tried for detective. He definitely doesn't seem the type to just surrender to the misery.
Thanks so much! <333