Title: Casual Monogamy

Rating: M

Summary: Because this idea would not leave me alone and the song Paralyzed is stalking me on the radio. Please share the love and let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: No one in their right mind would think I own Heroes, the characters, or anything other than a LOT of books. Promise, they aren't mine.

Matt Parkman enjoyed feeling the pulse of the music in his skin, how it made his awkward, large body feel less so. The lights raked over his face, almost physically touching him with their harsh brightness and heat. In contrast, the plastic cup in his hand was sweating cold condensation that left his hand clammy and chilled.

Part of him was desperately intimidated by the atmosphere of the club around him. The beautiful people grinding and humping on the dance floor left him feeling clumsy and out of place. There was one man in particular who caught his attention, a darker man with curling hair teasing his forehead. His lines were hard and tight, as if he lived an active lifestyle, but his movements denied that conclusion. At one point in the evening, Matt could have sworn the other man looked straight into his eyes and smiled.

When that happened, it was time to leave. He had been there hours, paying attention only to the dark man dancing with every other person in the club but him. His mind couldn't take the idea that maybe he had been noticed by the gorgeous man stealing attention from all of the other gorgeous people in the room.

He had meant to walk out of the club and not come back. Forget that he had even tried the gay bar avenue. Instead he found himself pulled into the bathroom and pushed against the wall, his lips claimed by biting teeth and a caressing tongue. The lights flickered above him and the dark man from the dance floor.

Moments later, his pants were pooled at his feet and the man had him engulfed in wet warmth. As he stood there, his hands in rough, curling hair, he looked down into eyes rimmed with long, dusky lashes and felt his heart clench. Those eyes laughed at him, drew him in, told him that he was the only one worthwhile in the entire club. And when he came, they showed satisfaction and triumph. A quick peck on the lips and a whispered, "come back soon" and then his momentary partner was gone.

Matt had told himself all week that he was not going back to the club. Every time he went out with fellow officers for a beer at the local sports bar, he would tell himself that this was where he belonged, far away from the pretty people who frequented the club he had visited. The guys he worked with would ask what he was going to do that weekend and he would mumble something about catching up on sleep, or football, or he would merely pretend he hadn't heard and walk away.

When Saturday finally came and he found himself staring at the outside wall of the club, he couldn't believe himself. Yet, there he was, clad in jeans the saleslady had told him looked great and a shirt that made him feel less…flabby. Now he felt like he might fit in around the seams of the pretty crowd, enjoying his drinks and the view of the pretty man from the week before. After he had observed for a few hours, he decided to head home, the crowd beginning to give him a headache.

This time, when he was pulled into the bathroom, he found himself covered in a protective condom, slicked with lube, and pounding away at the beautiful man in a bathroom stall, his heart beating like a hummingbird's wings as his face dripped sweat. That night he was only allowed to kiss the back of that perfect neck before he again slipped into the crowd and out of sight.

He was pretty good about not thinking about his weekend activities during work, only wondering what his nameless beautiful man might be doing. Why he had chosen him. For three months, Matt would appear at the club, stay for a few hours, enjoying the sidelines, and then, as he would be heading out, he would be pulled into the bathroom for varied sex acts, always with the lithe man with the mesmerizing eyes. Sometimes they would kiss passionately before and afterwards, while others would involve minimal touching.

Matt would go home and laugh at himself after each episode, saying he wasn't going to go the next week. But then he would. And laugh even more. He was the picture of monogamy, unable to even casually date when he was younger and supposed to fool around. Even when he was having sex with a stranger, he found himself being monogamous. Any time he would consider someone else, the inevitable comparison to his dark mystery man would spring to mind and no one really could compare. The phrase casual monogamy had never even occurred to him before he had ventured into the nightclub, before he had seen his dark, beautiful mystery man.

And so he would go to the club, watching and drinking his drinks. After a while he became friends with the bartender, but there was really only one reason he was there…

When he received the call saying that his sister and her husband had died in a car accident, Matt wasn't sure how to feel. He hadn't heard from them in years, hadn't seen his niece since she could fit along the line of his forearm. He knew he should feel sad, but it had been so long that all of the sadness in him for them was dried up. The most he had been able to dredge up for them was a subtle sort of regret that he worried wasn't enough.

At first he had protested when the social worker had informed him that Molly would be coming to live with him, stating his irregular working hours and bachelor status as excuses. After she flatly stated that it was irregular working hours and bachelor status or unstable foster care, Matt had reluctantly agreed, wondering if this meant he'd have to learn how to cook.

It took him until the Saturday after Molly arrived at his house to realize that he would not be able to make his weekly visit to the club and his pretty mystery man. The disappointment worsened when his ten year old niece suggested they watch Ice Princess and eat popcorn. Yet, when the night ended, even though he missed seeing the other man, it had been nice to laugh with the little girl and feel really connected to someone again.

It took weeks for Matt and Molly to even begin to get used to each other. He wasn't used to how little everything involved with kids needed to be, he had never been a big believer in more than two of the food groups, and Molly's habit of bursting into tears at random points in time for the first two weeks unnerved him more than he cared to admit. Even so, he began to get used to little girl hugs and how ridiculous little girl movies apparently needed to be to keep them occupied. The crying fits slowly morphed into nighttime sniffles made better by silly stories and good-night kisses, however, and learning to cook turned into a series of adventures that the two would later characterize as epic.

And the day that Molly finally asked to spend the night at her best friend's house, Matt knew what he would be doing. Even if he would be doing it with his phone on vibrate instead of silent.

Instead of his usual pleasure in watching the crowd and his mystery man, Matt spent the majority of the night nursing a single drink and constantly touching his pocket, expecting Molly to call and beg him to come pick her up. And even though he had originally planned on staying the hours he used to, Matt couldn't bring himself to do it. The casual contact wasn't going to satisfy him and he knew it. When mystery man pulled him into the bathroom, though, he didn't even have a chance to say no.

His phone vibrated angrily, buzzing loudly in the well-insulated bathroom. Molly had had a nightmare involving her parents and could he please come pick her up because she just wanted to be home. He responded with a quick, "of course, I'll be there as soon as I can" and hung up, looking at the beautiful man before him. In that moment he felt himself torn between the past and the future, casual monogamy and stability for a little girl he had never expected in his life. They crashed together for a moment, lips and teeth clanging jarringly against one another as they desperately clung together. Dark eyes stared at his throughout the kiss, unable to look away. Matt felt a hand at his ass, felt the card slip into his back pocket, felt the other man change the possessive contact into the usual soft kiss that often ended their bizarre couplings, felt him walk away.

After he had put Molly to bed, he looked at the card, astounded to discover the other man was a scientist, specializing in genetics. Mohinder Suresh was far too beautiful a man to be holed away in some laboratory studying blood samples. It fit him more to be dancing and ruling at the club every Saturday night.

It took Matt three weeks to finally call Mohinder's number. Two calls for him to actually leave a message. And five messages from Molly to finally call him back. When it finally happened, though, he almost hung up, not sure how to introduce himself. He had Mohinder's card, knew his name, but he had given no information about himself. When the other man answered, honeyed British accent coating his name, Matt could only stare stupidly at the phone. A smile in his voice, Mohinder explained that Matt had left his name in one of the messages and Molly had called him that as well.

From that point on there was no turning back.

fin