Fiction: Red

[kethni]

Name: Red
Pairing: Matt/Mohinder
Rating: 18
Warnings: Sex! Aggressive but fully consensual sex. Biting, scratching.
Note:Baby Steps ‘verse
Happy Birthday carmexgirl!
Thanks to leadaisyfor the idea and boudecia7for the beta and encouragement :) 


I love this time of year, the colourful decorations; the bright, carved pumpkins, the gimcrack plastic skeletons, the grinning polystyrene skulls, and the costumes, the parties, and the excited happy children demanding sugar with menaces.

Mohinder in a Red Riding Hood costume. He’s wearing tiny little red shorts instead of the skirt and thigh-high red leather boots.

Hubba hubba.

He does a twirl that makes the cloak fly up, and smirks at me. ‘What do you think Mr Wolf?’

‘I think you look edible,’ I growl, pacing forward. ‘Come here and let me show you my big... teeth.’

‘Euw, you guys!’ Molly announces, tramping down the stairs. ‘If you have to play your kinky sex games, could you do it somewhere else? Or maybe wait until I go out?’

‘Turn right around and march back up those stairs,’ I say, pointing. She’s in what passes for a witch costume; it’s black with red trim, barely reaches her thighs and there’s a segment cut out baring her stomach.

‘It shows less than her bikini does,’ says Mohinder.

‘Dad come on,’ she says, pulling on a hat at a jaunty angle. ‘All the girls are dressing this way.’

‘I don’t care. Go and put some clothes on.’

Instead, Molly tramps down the stairs, folds her arms, and looks at me. ‘Dad, I’m sixteen years old. I’m not a baby.’

‘Yeah’, I agree, ‘and that’s what bothers me. You’re sixteen and you’re going to a party with lots of teenage boys. Horny teenage boys.’

She rolls her eyes and looks at Mohinder. ‘Mohinder, you know that I’m not going to the party to get laid, right?’

‘You’re not?’ he asks, sounding surprised. ‘I thought that was the point of parties. At least when you’re single and...’

‘Is there going to be drinking?’ I ask.

Mohinder looks at me and raises his eyebrows. ‘It’s a teenager’s Halloween party,’ he says mildly.

‘I’m not going to drink,’ she says, less convincingly. ‘I can’t believe I’m being lectured by a PVC Red Riding Hood and a man dressed as a werewolf.’

‘Molly, you’re not going to improve your believability by lying,’ Mohinder says frowning at her and completely ignoring the second half of her comment. ‘Naturally there’s going to be alcohol and there will be underage drinking. That’s not a problem if you’re sensible.’

‘I’m not going to get drunk!’ she says, folding her arms.

‘You’re not going if you’re going to drink!’ I say sharply.

Mohinder puts his hand on my arm and propels me away. He pushes the hood down and looks up at me with big brown eyes. ‘Matt, we both know that eventually, probably sooner rather than later, she’s going to try alcohol and we both know that she’s going to mess around with boys. Or girls. Or both.’

‘Not on my watch,’ I insist.

‘Would you rather she do it ignorantly and in secret? Or what you rather she do it with full understanding and confidence in our support?’ he asks, putting his hands on his hips. It would look a lot more convincing if he wasn’t wearing the costume.

‘Mohinder, what do you want me to say to her? Drink underage but don’t get drunk? If you pass out drunk in the bathroom and get gang raped then make sure they wear condoms?’

‘Matthew Parkman, now you’re just being ridiculous!’

‘It happens!’ I retort.
He takes my hand. ‘The more you forbid it the more attractive you make it. Tell that she can have a couple of beers at most and go no further than...’

‘Okay, okay!’ I say stepping away. ‘Molly, you can have two beer, maximum.’

‘I can?’ she says, sounding disappointed.
‘Any more than that and you can clean up your own vomit,’ Mohinder adds.

She frowns at him. ‘My own vomit? I’m not sick.’

‘Skinny little thing like you, you’ll be sick after two beers,’ he says cheerfully. ‘You’ll probably be tipsy after one. Staggering around, letting strange people...’

‘Euw, no,’ she says quickly.

‘Are you going with Laurie?’ I ask.

‘Yeah, and no, I’m sure there won’t be a lesbian orgy,’ she says tartly.

‘Lesbian orgy is fine,’ Mohinder says airily.

‘It damn well isn’t!’

‘Why not? She won’t get pregnant,’ he points out.

‘She could still get taken advantage off, assaulted, or just plain get her heart broken.’

Molly rolls her eyes. ‘Dad it’s just a party.’

‘And when you’re drunk it’ll be just a bit of fun with some cute guy, then just necking, just heavy petting, and then it’s all the way,’ I say, feeling myself redden.

She shifts uncomfortably. ‘I’m not ready for sex!’

‘Just you remember that,’ Mohinder says sagely. ‘And when you are we’ll talk to you about protection.’

‘Oh, joy,’ she says sourly. ‘Something to look forward to.’

‘Get on your broomstick and fly away to your party,’ I say, flapping a hand at her. ‘If you’re not back by midnight I’m coming around there.’

Mohinder kisses her on the cheek and pulls up his hood. ‘Of course you know that broomsticks were phallic symbols,’ he says cheerfully as I kiss her goodbye and she opens the door. ‘Riding one meant something quite different at that point.’

Molly looks at the broomstick in her hand and then at me. ‘I worry about you guys.’


Mohinder pouts as leans back against the door, blocking my access to it. ‘Why can’t I hand out the sweets?’

‘Because children can cope with werewolves, vampires, and demons but not with sexual or gender ambiguity,’ I suggest, pulling him into my arms and kissing him.

‘Mmm, that’s nice. Can we have sex afterwards?’

‘That’s all you think about,’ I say sadly.

Someone knocks at the door and he leaps away to rip the door open.

Two tiny demons stare up at us with big blue eyes and mouths in perfect O’s.

‘Trick or treat?’ I suggest.

They turn around and look at a frowsy blonde waiting by the gate. She nods at them encouragingly and rolls her eyes at us. For a moment, she stares at Mohinder’s boots and costume and then smiles to herself.

‘Trick or treat,’ the demons chant.

‘Treat!’ Mohinder says happily and piles handfuls of chocolate and candy into their pumpkin shaped buckets.

‘Say thank you girls,’ the mom prompts.

‘Thank you!’


The candy is all gone and the last of the trick or treaters have vanished off into the night. I lock the door and when I turn around Mohinder is swinging his basket and fluttering his eyelashes at me.

‘Golly Mr Wolf,’ he breathes. ‘What big eyes you have,”

‘The better to see you with, my dear.’

‘What big hands you have, Mr Wolf,’ he says, pouting.

‘The better to touch you with, my dear,’ I say, stepping closer.

He backs onto the staircase. ‘What big teeth you have, Mr Wolf.’

‘The better to eat you with, my dear!’ I spring for him, but Mohinder’s already turned around and is bolting up the stairs.

I charge after him, tripping over my fake feet, and grabbing at his cloak. He flees into our bedroom, giggling wildly.

‘There’s no escape Red!’ I say, stalking into the room. He jumps out from behind the door and tries, not very hard, to get past me. He squirms, still
laughing, as I carry him over to the bed.

‘Mercy! Mercy!’

‘No mercy! I’m going to eat you all up!’ As I drop him on the bed, he yanks off the rubber mask I’m wearing.

‘Ooh you’re all hot.’

‘Sweaty too, it’s not nice.’

Mohinder grabs me by the hair and drags me for a kiss. ‘Bite me!’ he says, eyes dancing. ‘Eat me all up!’

I tear off the rubber hands I’m wearing and yank down his shorts as he squirms out of his top.

His hands are in my hair as I bite his mouth and down his neck, pairing long sucking kisses with shallow bites.

‘Harder, harder,’ he moans, dragging my shirt over my head.

I necklace him with love bites as he groans my name. His nails score my back as I bite his stomach soft and deep.

His booted feet scrabble against the sheets and he pants, ‘Harder, harder,’.

So good, so good, the taste of skin, the sound of his breathing. I pin down his legs to nip at his thighs; small shallow bites that make him chant my
name and squirm under me.

I take him into my mouth and he gives a soft squeak before tugging frantically at my hair.



The antiseptic burns like hell as he swabs my back.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says, not sounding even a little sorry. ‘Heat of the moment,’ he says, screwing up his nose cutely.

‘Scars of passions,’ I say, turning around to face him. ‘I bear them with pride.’

There’s a knock on the bedroom door. ‘Are you guys at it in there?’

‘Unfortunately not,’ Mohinder calls back to her.

‘I’m back and I’m sober and...’ she says as the door opens. She stares at us both. ‘Were you mugged for candy?’

‘No, we just... you know,’ I say weakly.

‘Mohinder’s covered in bruises!’ she snaps.

‘They’re love bites,’ Mohinder says dreamily. ‘And actual bites it’s...’

Molly claps her hands over her ears. ‘I don’t want to know!’ she announces, quickly turning. ‘Other kids don’t put up with this you know,’ she declares, walking out.

‘We have sex a lot,’ Mohinder says frowning. ‘Why does it still surprise her?’

‘It doesn’t surprise her, not really,’ I say, putting my arms around him. ‘She’s just at that age where everything about grow-ups, especially her
parents, is stupid, disgusting, or just plain wrong.’

He smiles up at me. ‘I like that you include me in ‘parents’ like that.’

‘I like that I finally found some little kinky thing you’re into,’ I say, nibbling his ear.