Note: First serious fic in english witch means that I'm not that good whit expressions and stuff like that. I hope you can enjoy it anyway.
It's early in the morning. No one is up except for Matt. He just can't sleep anymore. It's still dark and he doesn't want to turn the lights on. He lays still in bed just listening to the morning sounds. He can hear Molly turning in her bed, it squeaks. He'll have to do something about that later. In the bed beside him, in the other end of the room, Mohinder is mumbling something that he can't understand. Mohinder often mumbles in his sleep. Sometimes Matt understands what he's saying, but mostly he doesn't. He likes to listen to Mohinder, both awake and asleep. He has such gentle voice. And he always sounds so happy and excited, especially when he has something new to tell everyone. Most of the time Matt doesn't understand half of what Mohinder is saying, but he doesn't care. Just hearing his voice is enough.
The glance in is eyes when he smiles or get excited can melt anything. His lips… they look so tasty. And his body…oh that body…brown like hot chocolate, slim and muscular. Like a greek god walking among men. Every night before he goes to sleep Matt thinks about how it would feel to caress Mohinder's chest, feel his heartbeat against his own chest, stroke that curly hair, taste his lips. He can still remember the time right after he came back from the hospital after the episode on Kirby Plaza. Mohinder's gentle touch every time he helped Matt change his bandages'. How he used to examine the wounds, and later on the scars. Matt loved those moments. He didn't know why at the time, but every time he felt the Indians soft fingers against his chest, or when he could hear his heartbeats, he always felt safe. He felt like home and that nothing could hurt him. But when he got better Mohinder stopped his examination of Matt's scars and for some reason Matt felt very cold and lonely. He yearned for Mohinder's fingers to run over his chest again. But that was something he could never say. Hell, it took almost four months before he could admit it to himself. To tell Mohinder about his feelings would be to go out on the limits, and he didn't want to lose his best friend, and love.
He sighs. These thoughts have been going around in his head for weeks and they only gives him pain. He leaves his bed and sneaks out of the room without wakening Mohinder. He goes to the kitchen and makes himself a cup of coffee before he sits down in front of the TV to watch whatever's on.
A while later he can hear Mohinder leaving his bed. The bedroom door opens and a slumberous Mohinder comes out. He's wearing his flannel pyjama pants and a worn out t-shirt. He yawns and stretches. Matt looks at him and enjoys what he's seeing. The Indians hair is all messy and some of his curls hangs down in his eyes. Mohinder looks up at Matt and meets his eyes.
- What are you doing up? It's only 4 p.m.
- I could ask you the same thing Mo, Matt answers.
Mohinder looks confused and seams to struggle with himself to find the reason for why he's up this early. Matt can, without reading his mind, follow Mohinder's every thought. He knows that Mohinder is not a morning person. Actually he never functions before noon if he doesn't get at least three cups of coffee, a cup of tea, some breakfast and a shower.
- You can go to bed again Mo if you want. No need to stay up.
But Mohinder just comes closer to the couch.
- No. I don't want to.
- Why?
- I want to stay here with you.
He comes to the couch and sits down next to Matt. He sits just so close so that Matt can feel the warmth that comes from his body. None of them says a word; Matt because he can't come up with something good to say and Mohinder because he's more asleep than awake.
A few minutes later Mohinder leans against Matt's shoulder. Matt gasps for air when he feels Mohinder's hair against his cheek. Mohinder's breath gets heavy as he falls to sleep again. Matt can hear how he mumbles some nonsense and can't help himself, but reads Mohinder's mind.
Now I can sleep. Not so quiet. Matt's breathing's so soothing. Safe and home…
Matt pulls himself out of Mohinder's mind. He can't believe what he just heard. But still, he likes it. He puts his arm around the Indians shoulders and pulls him even closer. He feels Mohinder's breath against his chest, through his t-shirt, and a smile of comfort spreads in his face. He twines some of Mohinder's curls between his fingers. Then, without knowing where he gets the guts from, he leans down and kisses Mohinder on his head. Mohinder moans in his sleep and Matt holds his breath. Did he wake the sleeping man? But Mohinder just makes himself more comfortable, still sleeping. Matt breaths out again. Then he leans his head against Mohinder's and falls asleep with the feeling of being home, at last.